#to carry that to guard I am really nervous all the time because there is an expectation for me to be really good and boi am i struggling

[fushigurioo]

SAKURA VS TECHNOLOGY

FACETIME EDITION

y/n is missing sakura, so they thought they’d facetime him so they could see him before bed. oh, if only they’d known what a struggle it would be..

wc: 831

You blink down at your phone screen - in utter disbelief in what it’s displaying back to you. Once, twice, three times.

“HELLO?? Why aren’t ya saying anything?” Sakura huffs on the other end. “Why are ya calling me this late anyway it’s midnight, what’s up?”

Another second passes before you sigh and giggle at your boyfriend, who currently has his phone pressed against his ear, despite being on a facetime call.

“What are ya laughing at? HELLO?”

“Haru..babe.. take your phone away from your ear. This is facetime.” You say, trying with all your might to hold back your laughter. As funny as it may be, how clueless he is with technology, you find it simply adorable at how surprised and flustered he gets when he discovers something new on his phone that would be so mundane to most.

“Huh? It’s what time?” He asks, while pulling the device away from his ear and looking down at the screen.

You tilt yours away from your face, snorting and choking on your laughter.

He’s lying on his back, flat on his pillowless futon. His two-toned hair is pushed back and messy. He’s looking downwards at his phone, holding it just slightly below his chest. It’s the most UNFLATTERING angle.

Your restraint cracks and you burst out into a fit of laughter at the combination of the angle, and his confused expression when he realised he can SEE you on his phone.

“Huh.. What the hell is this? How is there a video of ya on my screen? Did you do this?” He’s talking so fast, and has the most precious pink blush spreading across his cheeks.

“No Haru,” you say in between short laughs. “This is facetime. It’s a phone call, but we can see each other at the same time! I thought we could try it out because I couldn’t sleep and I miss you.” You explain, propping your phone up against a makeshift lump on your blanket, giving him a little wave and heart hands.

“It’s- oh..” Sakura mumbles. He smiles softly down at his phone, his heart rate increasing when he registers that he’s looking at you in real time. His blush deepens just ever so slightly into a darker shade of pink. Though, the sweet moment soon ended when his eyes widen and he gasps, sitting up quickly and fixing his messy hair.

“Wait - did ya say we see each other? You can see me too?” There’s a slight tremor in his voice, he’s nervous.

“Mhm” you nodded. “I saw how happy you were to see me.”

His face flushes all over again and he chokes on his breath. “AS IF! I wasn’t happy to see you, I was just surprised that - huh? What’s with ya?” Concern briefly flashes through his face as he clocks your face, which had lost its smile and in turn replaced it with a pout, your lower lip sticking out. Just a slight manipulation tactic you mastered which always catches your boyfriend off guard when he’s yapping random words to make it seem like he isn’t completely head over heels in love with you.

“I’m sorry, I really did think you’d be happy..” You carried on with your pretend sad act, knowing that Sakura would crumble at any second.

And boy, did he crumble.

“HEY! STOP DOING THAT I -“ he lowers his voice and looks down to his left, avoiding eye contact. “I am happy to see ya, okay? I.. I missed you too.”

Your heart swells with undeniable joy and love for your boyfriend, and your happy smile made its way back to your face. Sakura moved his eyes back to his phone screen, and after seeing your change of expression, couldn’t fight the small smile that spread across his face too, nor the sheer adoration in his eyes as you moved on and started telling him about some funny tiktok you had just watched.

From this night onward, you and Sakura would always facetime before you fall asleep, on the nights that you don’t spend together.

Despite facetiming becoming a regular routine for the two of you, Sakura still always puts the phone to his ear when it’s you calling him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

BONUS

“Did you guys hear the rain last night guys? Boy, it was really coming down.” Nirei questions his friends, before taking a sip of the coffee he had, courtesy of Kotoha.

“Mhm. Although not for long, heavy rain always relaxes me into a peaceful sleep.” Suo answers.

“Not me. I didn’t realise, I was talking to y/n on face chat. Face talk.. whatever.” Sakura explains nonchalantly, taking a bite out of his egg sandwich.

Kotoha, Suo and Nirei all exchange knowing, amused glances with each other, with Kotoha covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.

“I think he means facetime.” Suo said, with his signature closed eyed smile and head tilt.

“I SAID WHATEVER.”

NOTE FROM RIO: THIS IS MY FIRST NON SMAU POST 😭😭 I really hope you all enjoy, as always please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see and i’ll do my best to make it happen❤️

[ghouldump]

Your fics are amazing! Enjoy all of them! Keep writing, and especially about iwtv 💖 and don’t delete it, it’s really great works :)

And can i request something about soulmates? Anything, really. It can be lestat x f!reader or lestat x f!reader x loius, i like everything! thank you 🥹

The Night Is Ours | Rockstar!Lestat x Reader

ෆ being awakened, naturally you go to your old love, only to find that he is now a rockstar, perhaps now you can have the happily ever after you both once wanted.

Walking through the sanctuary, Lestat’s eyes roamed, the walls were filled with portraits and elaborate paints, all relating to the Great Mother. Marius explained the significance for a few but kept moving when the painting caught his eye. It was one of its own, none like it.

“Oh, I see you've spotted Y/n,” Marius said, backing up to stare at the art.

“Who is she?”

“Akasha’s sister, they had different mothers, I believe, they were extremely close, she ended up turning Y/n after Enkil. Y/n wasn't as cold-hearted as her sister, although, she had her moments. She loved her sister, so she followed her lead, she is also a statue,” he said, as Lestat stood frozen, analyzing your face. Next to Akasha, you sat, looking off to the far side, away from the painter. An unreadable expression on your face, you were a mystery, forced into your sister’s shadow.

“Why does she look like that?”

“Y/n is full of secrets, she has never confided in anyone other than Akasha, didn't even have a companion. She was always a third in their lives, I imagine she was lonely,” he sighed. Part of him felt pity for you, unable to have a life for yourself because of your love for your sister. He only hoped that one day, you would find a lover stronger than the relationship.

“She likes music?” Lestat grinned, noticing the small stringed instrument at your feet.

“Yes, she always has had an ear for good music-excuse me, someone is trespassing, stay here, please,” Marius said, leaving to go to the entrance.

As soon as he was out of sight, Lestat was headed straight down the narrow walkway. The guard had been going on and on about how no one was allowed near the great mother, but Lestat was more interested in you now. Seeing the statues, he slowly approached the two. He couldn’t deny, Akasha was beautiful, and could easily be mistaken for a goddess.

Moving closer to them, he noticed the room, on the right side of the great mother. Frozen in time sitting upright in the chair, he was sure he stopped breathing, seeing your condition. A small instrument in your lap, your head turned.

“Mademoiselle, it is a pleasure to grace your presence,” he said, taking his violin case from his back, and carefully placing it in front of you.

“I hear you like music, and so I’d like to share a piece with you,” he said, taking the instrument and setting it in place. He was never one to be nervous, but something about you made him feel as if he was human again.

Shutting his eyes, he dragged the bow across the strings, allowing the melodic music to flow. The piece, he'd written himself, expressing his yearning desire to escape the lonely void that seemed to be consuming him. Lestat was too immersed in the harmony to even notice, that you began to move, your head turning to face him, slowly, you were going back to your old self.

“You too have beautiful taste in music,” you spoke, making his eyes open, widening as he stared at you. You sat with excellent posture, carrying yourself as royalty.

“I-

“Who are you?” you tilted your head, standing up, beginning to circle him.

“I am Lestat de Lioncourt,” he said, keeping his eyes set on your own.

“Lestat, why are you here? Where is Marius?” you questioned.

“He was tending to trespassers, I was learning about the great mother, when I saw a painting of you and decided to see you for myself”

“Why?” you bared your vangs at him, defensively, but he stood unfazed.

“You and I, we aren't much different, lonely, tossed to the side, someone’s second option - and this feeling, since the moment I have laid my eyes on you, I’ve experienced the strangest pull to you, you can not tell me the force isn't mutual,” he said, staring at you as you lunged forward, tugging his hair back. Using your freehand, your fingers you touched his cheek, dragging them down to his neck, before his chest.

He was right, the sensation was deeper than attraction. The mystic tug was like no other craving you'd ever encountered. Flinching back, you were speechless, unable to attack, when Lestat brushed his hands across your cheek.

“Who are you?”

“I believe we already covered that subject,” he chuckled.

“What did you do? Why do I feel this way?” you questioned.

“I don't know, but it is okay to give in, ma chérie, I won't tell,” he whispered, as you finally let go of his hair.

Lightly shoving him backward, you peered at him, trying to hide your confusion. His blonde waves disheveled, a look of amusement on his face, he was enjoying this.

“Get out of here” you spat.

“And leave you to go continue living, or should I say frozen in time? A devout follower of Akasha, your own sister, who didn't even love you enough to have seated amongst them,” he said.

“You know nothing”

“Centuries, you have been thrust into loneliness and eternal rest, when you deserve more. You won't live in anyone’s shadow, together, we will take the night as ours,” he said, slowly approaching you.

Unexpectedly, he smashed his lips into your own, kissing you softly, the air thickening as the kiss grew hungrier. Kissing down his neck, you pulled away, looking him in the eyes, as he leaned back, giving you consent.

Quickly, your fangs were in his neck, draining his blood. Sinking to the floor, you hadn't realized how thirsty you'd been, until this moment. Lestat chuckled, his throat vibrated against your mouth.

Pulling away, as his head lay in your arm, you used your nail to cut your skin, allowing him to drink from you. Inhaling, you couldn't wrap your mind around the euphoria. Sharing your blood, despite being strangers, you felt unnaturally close to one another.

“Y/n? Lestat, what have you done?” Marius said, making the two look at him, as Lestat pulled away from your arm.

“Marius, leave us,” you dismissed, not even looking his way. He seemed hesitant, but turned around, grumbling as he stormed away.

“You are like no other, I’ve ever met,” Lestat told you, smashing his lips against your own. Rolling around, you kissed each other, before you heard it.

“Y/n,” her voice was as soft as a whisper but caught both of your attention.

“Sister?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Surely she can wait, you have much to see, the world has changed since you were awake,” he said, helping you stand. Taking your hand, he led you further from the statues, and closer to the entrance. Feeling the cool air blow against your skin, you gasped.

“Come, the night is ours,” he smiled, guiding you down to the beach shore. Humans surrounded a fire, singing songs and dancing. Stopping for a moment, they stared at the two of you.

“Hello, would you like to join us?” one of them asked. Lestat turned to face you, seeing the mischievous smirk on your lips.

In an instant, you were in front of the man, grabbing him by his neck, and plunging your vangs into him. Lestat quickly joined you, as you both viciously devoured each person.

Laying in the sand with each other, you laughed like you hadn't laughed in centuries. Lestat was interesting, funny, with a touch of fierceness. You both continued in this manner, for the next three weeks. Taking the night as your own is what he called it, exploring, finding your next meals. Then, either on the beach near your home or in front of the hundreds of portraits, you held each other.

“I’ve always been told relations were futile, we have no need of such pleasures,” you mumbled, your head against his chest.

“We don't, but it is fun, is it not?” he asked, grinning.

“What is this that you make me feel? I have never met anyone like you,” you told him, as he leaned to peck your lips. Being around him, it felt like you had known him for centuries as if you had been together for an eternity.

“Become my companion, let us leave this place, and we shall see the entire world and what it has to offer,” he told you, his hand placed on your cheek.

Opening your mouth to speak, you stopped, feeling a wave of goosebumps, the quiet groaning beginning to increase in your ears. Abruptly, Marius walked in, halting in his steps as you stood, only wearing Lestat’s shirt.

“Akasha calls for you, she is becoming impatient and sore at your decision to ignore her,” he explained. Gulping, you looked towards the walkway leading to her throne.

“Y/n, I understand she is your sister, but you mustn’t wake her, you, of all people, know what she will do to humanity,” he said.

Turning away from them, you walked down the narrow hall, to their thrones. Getting on your knees, you bowed your head.

“I am here, sister, at your side,” you called out.

“You were going to choose him over us,” you heard, making you cry out.

“No, I am at your side sister, we will be together forever,” you reassured her, wiping your tears.

“I will stay,” you said, hearing the footsteps coming down.

“You can't-

“I must, I can not leave my sister frozen in sleep forever, I have to join her”

“Y/n”

“Don't fight her on this,” Marius said, following behind you, as you went to your room.

Patiently, he stood with his back against the wall, waiting for you to finish changing back into your ancient attire. Walking from the room, you held Lestat’s shirt, carefully placing it into his hands.

“You don't have to do this”

“I do, perhaps we will meet again, and then we could take the night as ours,” you whispered to him. Leaning forward, you slowly pecked his lips, before turning away. He walked as you moved to your seat, your linen kilt, dragging on the floor before you finally sat.

“Thank you for the night, mon chér,” you told him, remembering the term from his native language before you turned back to stone. The blood tears poured down his face, as he fell to his knees, placing his head on your lap.

“My god, her face,” Marius said, in fascination. Your previous form, as a statue, you sat, your head turned, a stoic expression, had been replaced. Facing forward, your head held high, a small smile graced your lips.

“Don’t forget about me,” Lestat told you, holding your cold cheek, before standing up to leave.

“Will she wake up again?” He asked Marius.

“Only time will tell,” he said, leading Lestat out of the villa. Looking back once, he vowed to never forget you, and the feelings that you brought onto him.

“Ahhhh, there he goes, Lestat, I love you,” the young girl screamed, as the loud music blasted through the loudspeakers.

Why the long face, my pretty baby

I got long fangs, come appraise me

Bring your long stakes, that doesn’t phase me

I’m an actor, in my makeup

I’ll get fatter, when we break up

Why does it matter, who I take up

Thousands of miles away, you could hear his voice, stirring in your slumber, before you were awakened.

“Y/n, wake up,” you heard, your eyes opening instantly. In front of you, in all of his glory stood Amel, Akasha’s maker.

“Amel,” you moved to your knees, bowing.

“You are not supposed to be here,” he told you.

“What do you mean?”

“Akasha is selfish, she would destroy the human race along with other vampires, she is meant to be stone, you child, are not like her, despite how much you try to be. Why did you not leave the first time I woke you?” He questioned.

“You woke me-

“For your other half, Lestat, vampires are not meant to be alone, you crave companionship, and so I woke up, to be with him, but I can see that you chose Akasha again”

“I couldn’t leave her”

“You must, I’ve watched you, since the beginning, you aren’t meant to be a part of their fate, take this chance, go to him,” he told you, cutting himself to give you his blood. After, your feet seemed to move on their own, as they ran, stopping for a moment, hearing the groaning.

“I am sorry sister, Amel is right, I need to choose me for once,” you apologized, bowing, before you ran out of the villa, flying into the sky.

His blood was calling out to you, begging to be united again. You were grateful for this moment, Amel and your sister’s blood in your veins, allowing you speed, unlike any vampire, had seen before. Soon you found yourself in a place called Los Angeles, people by the thousands were outside, leaving a weirdly shaped building, cheering and screaming…for Lestat.

You could see the large images of him, how different he looked, how he dressed, and his expression. Your vangs came out, staring down at the people, all of the heartbeats. You were close to going down there, attacking them, killing as many as possible. However, as they began to leave, his scent hit you, he was close.

Flying down, you went into the building, behind the stage, walking to his scent. A few staff tried stopping you, but you hissed, making them back up. Security quickly made their way over, blocking the way, but with a flick of your fingers, they were consumed by flames. Closing your eyes, you smelled his unique scent, inching closer and closer.

“Woah, nice outfit,” you heard, as you began walking toward the line of people. Looking at the man dressed in all black, the smeared makeup on his face, you were unimpressed.

“Right, are you a cosplayer or something?” the woman next to him asked.

“I am here for Lestat,” you said, unsure what she was talking about.

“Same, this is the line, it is very-

“Hey, you have to get in line like the rest of us,” somebody yelled. Tilting your head, you hissed, smirking as fear began to fill their hearts.

“She’s a vampire too,” they murmured amongst themselves.

“Lestat…” you called out to him, as you made your way to the front of the line.

The people watched in amazement and dread, beautifully dangerous, they worried you wouldn't be as restricted as the rockstar, Lestat.

“Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to go to the back of the line,” another man, security written on his shirt said.

“Are you now?” you asked, the fire lighting on the tip of your fingers. Suddenly, the door opened, Lestat staring at you, unable to believe his eyes. In his heart and mind, he heard you, your blood, calling to him, but he'd waited for this moment for over two hundred years, he couldn't trust his judgment.

“She is with me,” he said, reaching for your hand, pulling you into the room, shutting the door. You went to speak but were cut off by his lips pressing against your own.

“All of those humans, they come to see you, how do you not drain them all dry?”

“I endure, but I usually end up with a treat for the night, how is this possible?” he asked.

“Amel, he was the one to wake me up, when I heard your music, he woke me again, to come to you, for companionship. For thousands of years, I’ve put my sister above myself, her desires over my own, until I met you, and so here I am, if you'd still have me,” you confessed the bloody tears dripping down your face.

“You don't even have to ask, my heart was yours the moment I looked upon your portrait, you had my blood, my kiss,” he told you, pulling you into a long kiss.

“Will we take the night?” you asked him.

“Lestat, you have a long line of fans waiting on you,” someone impatiently knocked on the door.

“The night is ours,” he told you, intertwining his fingers with your own, as his vangs came out, exiting the room, to obliterate the humans outside of the room, for old time's sake.

[haechwrites]

sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH

prince!lee donghyuck x baker fem!OC (no name!)

synopsis: prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.

wc: ~17.1k

warnings: pet names used only so i don't have to namedrop lol. no other warnings tho!

A/N: this is my second longest fic i've actually finished hehe i'm really happy with this one and now i wish i had a prince haechan lol

-- some things to note first:

THIS FIC IS WRITTEN IN FIRST PERSON. if you see ♔, that means it's in haechan's pov written in third person!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As a child, life is all about the simple pleasures. It didn’t matter that I’d come home to a dark house carrying the faint snores of my mother. I was still reeling from the sweet taste of mangoes on my tongue, the slight dusting of sugar in my hair, and the lingering soreness from laughing in my cheeks. I’d quickly wash up, give my mom a quick peck on the forehead, and tuck myself in bed. Before I know it, the sun greets me again and I meet my grandma outside as she leads me to the palace. This was my routine and for my young brain, there was nothing ever wrong with it.

My grandma is the head baker at the palace. Since the separation of my parents, I have spent my days with my grandma at work. It was all I knew and I was content with it. Every sunrise, I’d have 30 minutes before I had to meet her outside. Together, we’d walk to the palace’s servant entrance and my grandma would give our favorite guard, Doyun, a warm smile and a promise to slip an extra pastry in his meal for letting me tag along. I’d walk past him with a finger to my lips asking him to be sworn to secrecy. He’d always return it with a wink and a small laugh. It was our little promise, though I’m sure no one would actually mind an extra guest on the grounds – especially a mere 7-year-old. 

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! pls like, reblog, reply, whatever!! if u want hehe

[bunnyluvx]

hsr characters and their love languages! ♡

featuring: natasha, welt yang, asta & sampo x gn!reader.

summary: hsr characters and their favorite love language with their partner! <3

warnings: spoilers about natasha if you are a beginner, and spoilers about welt yang.

a/n: hi there everybody!! this is my first official work here on tumblr and to say that i am nervous is such an understatement bc I AM SO SCARED HAHAHA. please be mindful throughout this post that i am not caught up with the game, and am not completely knowledgeable about hi3 or hsr lore. i'm pretty confident that almost all of the characters are in-character, sampo is really the only one i'm unsure of, so apologies in advance. i wanted to give natasha a break bc man she deserves one udbfoein. not proofread btw so have mercy on me for grammatical errors. i may or may not make different parts of this or make platonic/familial versions of how the characters would show their love for their friends/family, so if anyone is interested in that, please let me know!! this is also my first time doing a post like this so please be kind. ;; i'm excited to hopefully make new friends from this!! enjoy all of the fluff! <3

date started: 7:38PM, april 6th, 2024. date finished: 1:56AM. april 8th, 2024.

wc: 2.2k

natasha ♡ quality time.

natasha is always up on her feet, tirelessly working to tend to her patients and taking care of any necessities around the underworld. it is very rare that this woman is able to get a moment's rest, and as the leader of wildfire, she feels as though she cannot show weakness. she has to set an example for all of the children that she takes care of, and all of the underworld's citizens. if she falters, then they will start to worry and panic. she cannot have that. as stressful as her day-to-day life can be, she is incredibly grateful that she is able to help so many people. she loves to tend to the sick and carry out her duties so that she can guide her people to a better future.

however, when it comes to you, she feels as though she can let her guard down, when all of the children are asleep, and all of her duties for the day are done. she flops down onto your shared bed and softly sighs. you would lay by her side, her eyes closed, but she is content knowing that you are close to her. the nights that the two of you spend together are the nights where she feels most at peace. they are one of the moments that she holds of most importance, for they are the moments where she remembers that she is just oh so lucky to have you. whether if it's snuggling in bed together, which she thoroughly enjoys because she gets to snuggle up into your chest and relax, or sharing a meal, what is most important to her is that it is your time together to spend however you wish.

she feels like she can breathe with you near her; you soothe her in ways that no ordinary person could. there is something about your presence that causes every muscle in her body to ease, and she cannot help but smile whenever she sees you. there isn't much time for date nights given her positions, and you working alongside oleg as acting leader surely makes everything much harder, but you two try to make time for nice outings whenever you can because you both love going out to do things together.

to her, it doesn't even matter if you go out to do something. even if the two of you aren't doing anything together. she is just happy with you reading next to her while she's practicing stitching up her teddy bear. or when she's reading through paperwork and you're reorganizing some of the shelves and drawers around the clinic. being in your presence is all she needs in order to feel loved by you.

welt yang ♡ acts of service.

admittedly, welt is quite the romantic. there has always been a part of him that has been fond of the idea of finding someone right for him in this dimension. he never really made a priority for it, he never actively seeked out a partner. it has always been something that every once in a while, he would think of and smile about. it is a very small, personal part of him, but part of him nevertheless. and it blossomed to life when he met you. the part of him that wanted a person to spoil, to care for and to make their every wish came true really came to light.

anytime you say you want or need something, you better believe that he offers to grab it for you. not to say that he doesn't believe that you aren't capable of doing things for yourself; he just likes offering and if you accept, taking out those tasks for you. you want a drink or something to eat? what would you like? he'll get it for you. you're about to enter/exit any building? he's rushing ahead of you to open the door for you. something hurts? where? he'll give you a massage. your room is dirty and you need to clean it? with your permission, he will clean and organize it for you just the way you like it. he'll make sure to put things where he knows you're going to remember them too. you've been feeling down recently? he puts sticky-notes on the bathroom mirror for you to remind you how wonderful you are and how much he loves you. and it is guaranteed that when you are dating welt, that he has drawings in his sketchbook filled with you. he loves every single detail of you, and wants to commit them all to memory. he even made characters for one of his personal animation projects based off of you and him. when he showed them to you to see your reaction, and to gain your approval to have them in the first place, you were smitten and he received many, many kisses to the face.

welt absolutely worships the ground that you walk on. wherever you are, he always makes sure that you are comfortable, happy, healthy and safe. he does everything in his power to take care of you, even though he knows that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. he firmly believes in "actions speak louder than words". he likes to show his dedication and love for you through his actions. he reminds you every single day through his actions just why you fell for him, and he reminds you everyday how much he loves you. he will continue to do so, until the multiverse falls apart.

asta ♡ words of affirmation.

originally i was going to say that her love language is gift giving, seeing as she has so much money, she wants to be able to give as much as she can. she gives money to the space station to help with repairs, so why wouldn't she want to spoil the heck out of you?! however, upon taking a little peak at her lore, she is actually insecure about her riches. i feel as though she wouldn't want you to think that she's some snobby bigshot just because she has a wealthy family, so while she would get gifts for you, she would worry about what exactly she got and how much of it costed, and what you would possibly think of her if you got something that was deemed "too expensive" by society. she doesn't want you to think less of her. so, after looking at the five primary love languages, my next thought was words of affirmation.

asta seems like the type of girlfriend to enjoy both receiving and giving reassurance, kind words and compliments. in her times of stress, what she really needs is for you to put your hand on her shoulder and tell her that she'll figure everything out and that it will be okay. she looks to you with worried eyes, placing her hand over yours. she wouldn't say a word, her eyes tell you what she wants to say. "how can you be so sure? what if i don't figure this out? what if i get kicked off of the space station? what if-" a thousand thoughts run through her head at all times, and when she's stressed, the volume cranks up to one-hundred. it is only with you telling her that it'll be alright, and that you will be by her side the entire time that she is able to feel more at ease. your words mean everything to her.

she also loves to give reassurance. when you are feeling worried or anxious, she is quick to hop in and listen to whatever may be troubling you. she always tells you that it will all work out, and that she is always going to be there for you. she will never leave your side, she says, and she loves you with every ounce of her heart. she also wraps you up in compliments; when you change up your appearance somehow, whether if it's from clothes, hair, make-up or other changes, she will always point it out to you and tell you that she thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the whole world. or, when the two of you are laying together at night, she will tell you just how good of a heart you have. she will tell you how proud she is of you and of the progress that you have made since she first met you. she will tell you just how enthralled she is with you, and how you make her heart want to squeeze and stop in her chest. she will tell you exactly how she feels about you, and it is overwhelmingly lovely, because you know that every word she speaks, she means it from the bottom of her heart. and in turn, you try your best to do the same when you can. she is always grateful to hear your words of praise and adoration for her, even if it's something small. a simple "i'm here for you" will make her happy, because she knows that you mean what you say. gosh, she just loves you so much that she doesn't know how to handle it. your love is genuine, true and real, and speaking of that love to each other makes asta feel like she's floating in a cloud's soft embrace.

sampo koski ♡ gift receiving.

when it comes to showing his affection for you, he is always buying you things whenever he can. jumping from job to job all of the time can lead to strain with his finances, but he is able to make good money often enough to the point where he is able to buy nice gifts for you. he has become used to taking things from people without thinking twice, so when you first started dating, he gave you stolen things. buuuttt you were very unhappy about it; not because of the gift itself, but because of the fact that he stole it. so you told him very firmly that you would not accept anything that he stole. he respected your wishes, of course, and started to buy you things ethically.

receiving gifts became a regular thing for you. sampo would come home after a long day of working around belobog, hand you whatever little trinket he managed to get his handa on and say, "for you, baby~". you are always grateful for everything that he gives you, and one day, you thought to return the favor. so, while you were out and about one day, you saw a really cute pin of a puppy. when you saw it, it automatically made you think of sampo. so, you bought it, and planned to give it to him when he came home that night.

when nighttime rolled around, he busted the doors open and called, "HONEYYY, IIIII'M HOOOOOOME!!~" in a silly way before laughing to himself and taking his shoes off. you rush up to him, the man opening his arms for you as you hop up to hug him. you share a kiss, then move back out of his arms with a little grin on your face. he noticed the look and asked what was up, then you told him that you had a gift for him. he was caught off-guard, admittedly, as he didn't expect such a pleasant surprise. he tried to act humbly at first, telling you that you didn't need to do that for lil ol' sampo! he's the one that supposed to be spoiling you, after all! but you shut that down immediately and insisted that he takes your gift. he couldn't say no to how excited you looked to give him something, he asked what it was, and you told him to close his eyes. he did, and when he opened them, there it was! in your hands was the cutest little puppy pin he has ever seen in his life.

he took a moment to speak or move as his usual cocky attitude melted away. his eyes became glossy and his lip started to tremble. he was so touched by the fact that you were thinking of him so much that you got him a gift. you asked if he was okay, as he never cried around you before, and he quickly wiped his nose and eyes on his sleeve and sniffled. he assured you that he was okay before taking the pin from you and cooing about how cute it was. seriously, it was so freaking adorable, how did you even get your hands on this??? he asked why you chose it for him, and when you told him that it looked like him, he caved and gave you a bone-crushing hug. his sobs were quiet and he sniffled. the idea of you seeing such an adorable little treasure and thinking that you wanted, no, you needed to get it for him just makes his heart crumble in the best way possible. needless to say, he wears that pin everywhere he goes and never takes it off. it is on him at all times, as are all of the other wearable gifts that you got for him after that. he cherishes every single thing that you give him, and he wants to be able to show you that no matter how big or small it is, he will love it forever. just as he will love you.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is so very appreciated! <3

[mj-iza-writer]

Requested by @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud with inspiration by @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 . A current post they made about lab Whumpee being sold by Whumper after being told they were getting killed by Whumper. -MJ

"I've decided to grant you your request", Whumper started to talk before they even stood in front of Whumpee's cage, "you are taking up too much room. Room I need for a newer, better experiment. Enjoy your next few hours, they will be your last."

Whumpee stared wide-eyed at them until Whumper walked away... chuckling with amusement.

"This will be... okay. I-I asked for this, yes... so why am I scared at the thought of dying", Whumpee whispered to themself.

Whumpee brought their knees to their chest and buried their face.

They wept until a few guards came to grab them.

"May I... may I take my teddy?", Whumpee whispered as the guards opened their cage.

"That's fine", they stated gruffly.

Whumpee led the way to the lab. They tried to hide the fact that they were shaking. Their legs felt like jello. They felt the guard would have to carry them in a few minutes because of how weak they felt.

The lab door opened.

Whumpee gulped as it all came to them... this was their last time doing this. They relived every experiment they survived.

"Are you ready to be put to sleep? My little lab rat", Whumper smirked, "you've done your job well, but it is time."

Whumpee gulped, but nodded.

"May I have one more treat before you kill me?", Whumpee felt the guard bump against them to make them move forward.

"I suppose that could be arranged", Whumper nodded.

Whumpee was strapped down to the table before Whumper stuffed a treat into their mouth.

"Alright just a few more things to prepare and we will get started", Whumper walked away.

Whumpee strained to watch everyone while they chewed on the candy treat.

"Quite nosy little rat", a scientist studied them, "curious on how you'll die?"

"Sorry, I uhm. Was just nervous", Whumpee admitted.

"Alright we are ready to go", Whumper carries a syringe with a long needle to Whumpee and shows them.

"This will end everything", Whumper almost sings happily, "are you ready?"

Whumpee whimpers a little but nods.

"Aww so brave", Whumper grins.

Whumper pulls Whumpee's sleeve up, accidentally bumping Whumpee's teddy and knocking it to the floor.

"TEDDY", Whumpee yells as the needle enters their arm and empties under their skin.

Whumpee's eyes instantly begin to flutter open and close. In their blurred vision, they see their stuffy dance in front of their face before it rest on their chest.

Whumper watches for a few minutes until they are certain Whumpee is asleep.

"Prepare them. Their buyer will be here in an hour for them", Whumper wipes some hair from Whumpee's eyes, "I'm gonna miss my little rat, but I've finished with them. They deserve to have a nice retirement."

"That was evil to make them think they were dying though", another scientist commented.

"I had to get one more out of them", Whumper frowned, "trust me what I just did is about the best thing I could do for them. Carewhumper will give them a good life. Better than what I would give them for their retirement."

Whumpee knew they were unconscious... it was a weird feeling to them. As though they were floating in darkness, not really existing anywhere, but still alive.

"I-I'm alive?", Whumpee came to the realization, "I-I wonder what they're doing to me right now. A mean prank, but I suppose I shouldn't expect anything else from them. I hope they don't alter me to much."

Whumpee started to feel themself being pulled to wakefulness.

Whumpee blinked tiredly a few times as they became conscious.

"Oh are we coming to?", someone gently petted Whumpee's face.

"Mmm" Whumpee moaned.

"Come on dear", the person's voice coaxed, "I'm ready to meet you."

Whumpee finally squinted their eyes open, but quickly closed them.

"Oh, to bright", the voice chuckled.

Whumpee could tell the light was dimmed. They opened their eyes to watch someone sit down beside them.

"Wh-who are you?", Whumpee whispered.

"My name is Carewhumper. I'm your new master dear", they smirked.

"New master?", Whumpee was visibly uncomfortable, "but doc said they were killing me... I thought I was dying."

"Yes they had mentioned that. They wanted to poke a little fun at you before I received you. I purchased you from Whumper. They said they were retiring you from being a lab rat, and I offered to purchase you."

Whumpee listened quietly... they tried to understand what was being said, but everything felt fuzzy.

"I can see you are still confused, and it may be that strong drug you were given. Let's go over a little more of this information when you feel better. Just know that I own you now, and that's that."

Whumpee nodded.... knowing they had no idea who this person was and what they were capable of. Also knowing they had no way out.. this was their life now.

"How about you lay down and take a nap. We'll have dinner ready in a little while. Maybe by then you'll be thinking a little clearer", Carewhumper stood.

Whumpee looked over themself as the sheets were pulled up to cover them.

"Wait am I...how did I get cleaned?", Whumpee marveled. Whumper really didn't care how dirty Whumpee was. Whumpee was often given a damp towel after experiments to wipe off with. They hadn't had a bath in a while.

"I went ahead and bathed you while you were unconscious. You were quite filthy, and I didn't want to dirty your bed. I really didn't plan on you coming to me with so much filth. I would have better planned had I known", Carewhumper sighed, "I didn't take advantage of you. So don't concern yourself over that. I just needed to get the lab and experiment remnants off of you."

Whumpee studied how clean they were.

"I haven't had a bath in so long", Whumpee whispered.

"You can have as many baths as you like", Carewhumper smiled, "you will be my pampered pet, I'm sure you'll enjoy your new life. So long as you follow my rules."

Whumpee nodded then yawned.

Carewhumper chuckled, "as I said we will go over that stuff when you seem more awake. I'm glad you seem to accept your new position as a pet."

Whumpee nodded again, "I understand my place in this world. I am whatever my master asks of me. That's what doc trained me to be. You own me now so I will try my best."

"Excellent... that's all I need you to do", Carewhumper finished covering Whumpee up, "get some rest. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."

Whumpee settled for a few moments before jumping up.

"Teddy", they scrambled to search for the toy.

"Oh hey, okay okay.. settle down", Carewhumper held onto them gently.

Whumpee started to panic. They took quick shallow breaths.

"Teddy?", Whumpee squeaked.

"I believe you are asking about the stuffed animal, yes?", Carewhumper gently rubbed Whumpee's shoulder.

Whumpee quickly nodded.

"Whumper told me the importance of that item, but it was in a worser state than you wer...."

"You didn't throw them away?", Whumpee cut Carewhumper off, "please I-I need them."

"No no, but I did hand it to a maid for cleaning", Carewhumper smiled comfortingly, "they know the importance of the item and will return it as soon as its ready."

Whumpee tried to hide a quivering lip.

"It's alright, I will return them to you when they are nice and clean", Carewhumper repeated before standing up, "you may rest now, but I suppose you would like to look around your room. This entire space is for you. I'm sure you'll enjoy the extra room. Definitely more than your cage you lived in for so long. You can decide. I'll retrieve you for dinner."

Whumpee watched them leave the room and heard a lock clicking.

"So just a bigger sized cage, I suppose", Whumpee sighed, "we'll at least I can stand, and this bed is comfy."

Whumpee looked around again before getting up and looking around. There were too many new things to see.

"Ooh this is cool", Whumpee walked over to the window where a lounging seat was placed.

They carefully climbed up onto the furniture and looked out the window.

Whumpee almost laughed when they saw bars on the other side of the window.

"I can't even say how many levels I'm up... How would I even get down?", Whumpee looked at the window a little closer, "oh it opens."

Whumpee opened one of the latches without even thinking... they just wanted some air.

They fell to the floor when an alarm went off.

"Oh no", Whumpee looked up from the floor.

Moments later, guards rushed in, followed by Carewhumper.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I-I just wanted air", Whumpee covered their face in preparation for punishment.

Carewhumper knelt beside them while the guards secured the window.

"It's okay, you didn't know any better yet", Carewhumper patted their shoulder.

The guards turned to Carewhumper.

"What should we do to them?", one of them frowned at Whumpee.

"We are not doing anything to them. They don't know the rules... they probably just got excited to see the outside world. Can we actually take the alarms off this window for them... I'm sure some fresh air will feel good for them", Carewhumper smiled at Whumpee, "I was just coming to return this when I saw the guards unlocking the door. I was concerned."

Whumpee's eyes lit up when they saw Teddy.

"Thankyou", they squealed and took it excitedly, then hugged it close.

"We won't be able to take the alarms off of one. They either have to all come off, or stay on", one of the guards looked up from their phone, "the only other option is for them to get a hold of us to take off the alarms for them to open the windows. Which might be hard for them when they are under lockdown."

"I-I won't run away", Whumpee looked up at Carewhumper, "I'm a very good Whumpee, I promise."

Carewhumper smiled and cupped Whumpee's face lovingly.

"Okay well let's try it. Take the alarms off then", Carewhumper gently rubbed their thumb along Whumpee's cheek, "are you okay, it looks like you fell."

"I got scared and fell from the seat", Whumpee leaned into the touch, "I'm....hmm sorr..y."

Carewhumper chuckled, "I have a strong belief that you are severely touch starved. After dinner we can cuddle to fix that. Are you okay though?"

Whumpee zoned out and closed their eyes.

Carewhumper feared Whumpee may start drooling if this continued.

"My dear... are you going to sleep? My hand is not a pillow you know", Carewhumper chuckled again.

Whumpee looked up with puppy eyes, "sorry", Whumpee whispered, "it feels good", Whumpee cuddled their Teddy even closer, "Doc would never uh, pet me like that."

Carewhumper sighed, "I'm sure they didn't. Well let's go for dinner. It will give the guards time to figure out these alarms and reset the system."

"I'm sorry again. I didn't mean to cause any problems", Whumpee watched the guards walk past.

"It's alright", Carewhumper stood and helped Whumpee up, "no harm done. Accidents happen, especially when you don't know the rules."

Dinner was finished.

Now Carewhumper was sitting on a couch and watching Whumpee look around the room.

"So do you have any questions about the rules we went over during dinner?", Carewhumper leaned back.

"No Master, everything makes sense", Whumpee looked at them, "your rules are simpler to follow and your punishments are more lenient than what Doc had. I'm glad I won't be injected with any more unknown drugs if I don't chew my food twenty times before swallowing."

"Yes that one is a strange rule and punishment", Carewhumper agreed.

"Doc just wanted a reason to put more things in me to see what would happen. Plus the better I chewed the better my stool samples were", Whumpee looked down, "I'm thankful to be here."

"I'm glad to hear that", Carewhumper smiled, "so does my pet wish to cuddle?"

"Yes Master", Whumpee nodded as they walked over to Carewhumper, "please."

It wasn't long that Whumpee's face was cupped into one of Carewhumper's hands and they were almost asleep.

Carewhumper readjusted and helped Whumpee lay their head on Carewhumper's lap.

Whumpee happily let Carewhumper massage their scalp.

Whumpee nodded off a little after.

"Such a sweet little dear... and worth every dollar that I spent on you", Carewhumper smiled at the quiet snores their new pet made, "you will enjoy it here my dear. I promise."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @clevah-girlboss

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[xythlia]

☆⠀─── HONEY TRAP⠀ 〳〳⠀ LUCIFER

( ☆ ) — synopsis : you decided to download a sugar baby app, swearing to yourself it was just to get you through money wise. until what you believed was a scammer just using Lucifers pictures turns into something a little different, with a real proposition.

( ☆ ) — word count : 2k+

( ☆ ) — warnings : f!reader, sugar baby ish, talk of baby trapping, creampie, slight nipple play, squirting, mating press, dumbification, dacryphilia

going insane bc I woke up at 4 am with the need to write this I feel like I was momentarily possessed also sorry if there's errors but I'm eepy n don't wanna fix it <33333

Your mouth went dry initially, seeing the notification pop up on your lock screen.

You had downloaded sugardevil in a moment of desperation, a stress spiral caused by the heavy strain of your schedule here in the devildom. Working and keeping up with the brutal coursework had you on the verge of tears but it had seemed like a real solution.

There had to be at least some demons here with a thing for humans, you thought you could use that to your advantage. Though after getting nothing but spam dms you'd abandoned the app, accepting that your personal funds would be tight for the year along with your sanity.

That first notification had changed things, you nearly choked seeing Lucifer's picture attached to the profile that messaged you. Surely it was a scammer, just someone using his pictures to trick other girls so you hadn't taken it seriously at first. Instead you played along, flirting and messaging every day for weeks, it was a little thrilling thinking you'd catch this demon in the act of impersonation. Never once had you considered it was really him, because what would he be doing on a sugar baby app?

Until tonight, noticing Lucifer type something out and watching in disbelief as your phone lit up against the living room coffee table.

No way.

You kept your movements casual as you reached for your phone, but his eyes burnt a hole through you the entire time. Swiping it open you could see the little dots dancing in the corner, but refused to look up at him.

It's not him. You're being paranoid and weird-

The message nearly made you choke, head snapping up at his bemused smile while the contents of it bounced around in your head.

Why don't we go for a little date right now?

"There's something I wanted to discuss with you, in my study if you're not busy?" He asked.

Your movements were jerky, nervous, as you rose to follow him through the hallways and to his study. All those things you'd said ran at light speed through your mind, as well as the night you'd masturbated to the thought of it really being him.

Fingers desperately circling your clit while you pictured him doing it instead. Would he do it quickly, getting you to cum fast and sloppy for him or would he torture you a little? Getting you right up to the edge only to snatch you back? What would it feel like to have those delicately firm fingers stretching out your pussy, forcing your thighs apart. You'd cum harder that night than any previous time, though you'd curled your blankets around you as hot shame rushed beneath your skin and you struggled to get any sleep.

It was easy to get carried away in the daydream of it, when you believed there weren't any real stakes, easy to fall a little in love with the Lucifer you created in your head when you felt so unsure around the real one.

Sitting beside him now that searing embarrassment was back and flowing through your veins. He'd just been toying with you, and you struggled to think of any words to say as the silence stretched on and grew heady.

"It was a slight shock to see you on that website." he said. "I'm sure it was just as surprising for you to see me of all demons there as well but-"

"I thought it was someone just using your pictures-" you blurted out.

That seemed to catch him off guard, making you pause in confusion. Had he believed you were really having some secret connection on a sugar baby app? Your toes curled recalling some of the more suggestive conversations with him, and talking about how you truly didn't have to worry about working those crappy odd jobs because he was more than happy to take care of you.

"I see," he cleared his throat, "well, you know it's difficult to find companionship given my... status. I hadn't expected to see you pop up there but I thought we could come to an arrangement if that's what you wish." His words hung awkwardly in the air.

"You meant it?" You said, incredulous. "Not that I'm not interested, I just don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage or anything." You picked at your nails nervously.

That amused, small smile was back and it struck you how painfully handsome he really was. But it was true, if he were to start meeting all of your financial needs it might seem suspicious to an outsider. You already stayed in the house rent free, attended their prestigious school, and more.

"I can see why you'd worry about that, but what if it was less an arrangement for financial or physical satisfaction and more about you and I?" His hand rested atop your fidgeting one.

"Don't tease me," you awkwardly pouted.

"Did anything I said seem like teasing to you?" His eyes darkened. "I did tell you I'd take care of you."

You averted your eyes, mouth going dry again because you weren't sure how to take this. It was true, over the last few months you'd gotten closer to him in general and had felt your heart doing flips on more than one occasion with him. As perfect as it sounded, being something more with him, you just couldn't help but worry if it started like this.

"I-" you were cut off when his lips met yours with real heat behind the kiss. He's quick to steal the air from your lungs, not giving you a chance to breathe in anything but him- his scent, his lips, his tongue gliding against yours. It makes you dizzy, head spinning as you feel the warm air ghost across your stomach.

In one quick movement dry cotton replaces his lips as your shirt slides up and bunches between your teeth, his voice telling you to bite. You do without thinking, mind reeling as he shifts you onto his lap and his slender fingers ghost up your sides before settling on either side of the cups of your bra. You squeak through the fabric in your mouth as he shifts them, spilling your breasts from their hold.

Your muffled moans ring out as his warm mouth covers your nipple, back arching into his touch as his tongue caresses you and hips shifting to feel his erection pressing against your clothed cunt. One hand comes to squeeze and massage your other breast, thumb and index expertly rolling your other nipple as you whimper.

His mouth shifts attention to the other, letting the balmy air rush against your wet skin. His scarlet eyes look up at you, catching yours closed and he gives a small bite to the sensitive skin to get you to look at him and make you buck your hips harder against him. You feel your panties sticking to you as you move, the shirt clenched between your teeth just as soaked.

Lucifer lets go of your breasts, drawing back to admire how disheveled you look and enjoying the way your hips haven't stopped rutting against his now aching erection. His hands settle against your sides as the shirt drops from your mouth, your eyes glassy and full of lust.

"It wouldn't be so bad, letting me take care of you, now would it?" His rasp makes gooseflesh rise on your arms as a shiver snakes down your spine, twisting along each vertebrate. He's rushing to unbutton his shirt as you blink at him, unable to form words to respond. Before you can he's thrown the shirt haphazardly behind you, guiding you to lay back against the settee with your shirt hiked up above your tits as he unclasps your bra and helps you out of both.

"What do you say?" He teases, pulling your shorts and panties off before gripping the backs of your thighs pushing them up and obscenely enjoying the view of your pussy.

Lucifer wastes no time shimmying his slacks off, repositioning between your thighs while his cock glides through your slick folds and makes your whines pick up again.

"Please-"

"Say yes," he coos, pressing the head of his cock down against your entrance but not giving you even a centimeter. You nod, clearly in an effort to just get him to fuck you already but he's adamant about hearing the word pass from your lips. Your mouth drops open, hands grabbing your legs alongside his now as he pushes into you, the inaudible pop of his tip inside you makes your eyes roll back.

"Yes!" neediness drips from the word and makes Lucifer feel like he could devour you whole. He has to compose himself before his hips push into you, finally, past the tight band of muscle to bury himself inside. You cry out, arms raised and gripping the cushions above your head while he keeps your legs pushed up.

"I can give you anything," he grunts out, feeling your soaked cunt taking shape around him. "Anything you want." Your earlier apprehension has no place at this moment, swept away in a lust drunk haze. All you can do is cry out and whine, beg with teary eyes for more more more as he fucks into you, a brutal pace.

"Maybe even a baby," he's talking through gritted teeth, more to himself than to you. "A whole damn family if that's what it takes." The sound of skin slapping skin punctuates his words, making them buzz in your head and your cunt clenches around him.

"Is that what it'll take? Answer me," His hand grips your jaw and makes the tears pushing against your waterline fall in thick tracks down your face. His rough treatment makes you feel like you're on fire, babbling incoherently and not even understanding what you're saying yes to.

"Anything, everything," his voice cracks as your thigh muscles begin to spasm in his hold. "Promise you'll stay-"

"I promise!" You half sob out as your pussy clamps around him, the pressure almost unbearable, your grip on the cushions now like an iron vice as fluid sprays his abdomen and still his pace doesn't falter.

His body curls over yours, his strokes coming hard and deep as you hiccup and tears continue sliding down your cheeks. Lucifer is fucking you with a purpose, lips crashing against yours as you claw at his shoulders now. The feeling of being locked against you pushes him over the edge, cock throbbing as he pushes messily inside you one last time before thick, creamy spurts of white drown your cunt completely. Your whole body is shuddering in his hold, pussy flexing around him like you're milking him for all he's worth.

You stay like that for a while, him unwilling to pull out and watch his cum drip from you just yet while you steady your breathing and blink the tears from your vision, the world swimming in watercolor. Your hands eventually unclamp from his back, threading through his sweat damp strands gently as he presses a surprisingly chaste kiss to your forehead.

"Did- did you mean it?" You stutter in a nervous whisper, only now recalling bits of what he said. He nods, pushing himself up to look into your eyes.

"As long as you stay here, with me, you'll want for nothing."

"I don't need anything but... but you," your voice cracks on the last word, surprised at how much you mean it. You really had grown feelings for him the last few months, but always held back out of a fear he wouldn't reciprocate for a human.

You don't know how his heart clenches and his throat feels like it might close, he didn't know the exact depth of what you felt but always held a bead of suspicion. Either way, this has been the way to find out but he can already tell that as long as you stay with him, keep your promise, he'll want for nothing, too.

[phillippadgettwrites]

The First Time, Every Time: Lazarus

Rated X / 2231 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Scully’s been glued to her couch for hours, lost in the melancholic churn of regret. She can’t help but feel partially responsible for Jack’s death, in some tangential way. Perhaps the vacancy left by her departure was too vast to be adequately filled, even three years later. Perhaps he never really got over her. Just as soon as she has the thought, she dismisses it as terribly self-important. 

The phone rings, and she half expects it to be Jack on the other end of the line, admitting that it was all a prank that went way too far. 

“Hey, it’s me. Just checkin’ on ya.”

Scully smiles and moves the phone to the other ear. 

“I’m okay,” she says with a sigh.

There’s a stretch of silence that begins to make her nervous. 

“Most people wouldn’t be okay after going through what you just did, you know. It’s okay to…not be okay,” Mulder says gently, and Scully cringes and closes her eyes. 

“I know, Mulder,” she tells him with just enough insistence that he’ll drop it. “I really am fine, though.”

“Okay,” he relents. “Message received. What are you up to?”

Scully looks at the open box of photographs strewn across her coffee table and the half empty bottle of wine sitting in the middle of them. 

“Not much,” she says, leaning forward to pick up a candid shot of Jack with a cigarette dangling from his smiling mouth. “Just…thinking, I guess.”

“About Jack?” It’s a rhetorical question, one she responds to with only a hum. “He seemed like a good guy,” Mulder comments, somewhat detachedly. It’s the kind of thing you say about people you didn’t know well after they die. The kind of thing that’s said more for the comfort of the living than the benefit of the dead. 

“He was,” she agrees, equally detached. 

They are both quiet for a beat, but it’s a comfortable silence. 

“I reviewed his case notes,” Mulder says carefully, like he’s unsure whether she’ll find it intrusive. “He had some interesting insights on Dupre and Lula’s relationship.”

“Such as?” Scully asks, curious but guarded. 

“He said that he envied their devotion to each other. That they lived in a world where nothing mattered but their own needs, which he found intoxicating,” Mulder recites without much affect, leaving his opinion on Jack’s musings up to her interpretation. 

Scully thinks back to the desperate, lovesick way Jack carried himself through their relationship, like he could never quite get enough of her. At first it had been exciting and addictive, but soon became overwhelming and burdensome. The more she withdrew, the harder he tried to get back in her good graces, and she finally came to the conclusion that he wanted something from her that she was simply unwilling to give. 

“That sounds like Jack,” she says, tossing the photograph back on top of the haphazard pile. 

“I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I was surprised to learn that you’d been romantically involved with him.”

“Because he was my instructor?” she clarifies. 

“Not necessarily,” he tells her, pausing to consider his words. “I guess I just…wouldn’t have thought he’d be your type.”

This makes Scully smile. 

“Oh? What did you think my type would be?” she asks, somewhat playfully. 

“I don’t know,” Mulder admits. “Somebody less…intense. Obsessive. Single minded.”

Somebody less like you, she thinks to herself. 

“I’m not sure I have a type,” she says, knowing it’s a lie even as it leaves her lips. Her type is older, assertive, and unavailable. Bonus points if they make her work to earn their affection.

“Well,” Mulder says in a markedly more upbeat tone, “my type is canadian bacon and pineapple. You hungry? I was thinking about ordering a pizza.”

“I could eat,” she says, and her stomach growls in agreement. “But you don’t have to drive across town, Mulder; I can feed myself,” she adds, feeling undeserving. 

“I need to return a movie, so I’m going out regardless,” he says, and she can hear in his voice that he’s already up and moving around his apartment. 

“I’m sure the late fees at the adult video store are steep,” she teases, and he humors her with a wry chuckle. 

She tidies her apartment while she waits for him, stashing the photos of Jack and corking the rest of the wine for another night. When she hears his “shave and a haircut” knock at her door, she answers with a “two bits” rap of her knuckles before she opens it and takes a pizza box from his hands. 

“I got a movie,” he says, kicking the door closed behind him. “I know it’s a school night, but I’m feeling reckless.”

“When are you not feeling reckless?” she says mirthfully, gathering plates and napkins. 

The movie is something silly that neither of them pays much attention to. It’s clear that Mulder’s intention in coming over was to lift her spirits, and he hits it hard with little self-deprecating quips that make her feel equally entertained and sad for him. She can’t help but see the similarities between Mulder and Jack, their shared restlessness and obsessive nature. Their stalwart belief that if they could just solve this one case, the world would tip back on its axis. 

At one point she turns away from the TV and catches Mulder looking at her. He does this sometimes, perhaps much more frequently than she’s privy to. He’s quite good at averting his eyes almost immediately, but she still catches the tail end of the pained, longing expression on his face, and it makes something warm blossom in her belly. She can’t help but wonder why she’s so drawn to these broken, chronically unfulfilled men. She can’t help but wonder why they are so drawn to her. 

The movie ends, and he helps her collect their dirty plates and cups and move them to the kitchen sink, offering to take the pizza box to the dumpster on his way out. While prone to thoughtlessness when he’s chasing down a lead, he’s the most considerate man she’s ever known, and she wonders for the first time if he’s like this with everyone, or just with her. 

“Thank you for dinner,” she says, following two paces behind him as he moves toward her front door reluctantly, shuffling from one shoeless foot to the other like he has something else to say. 

“Anytime,” he tells her. 

They stand there awkwardly for a beat, and an uncomfortable smile stretches across Scully’s mouth. 

“What?” she asks, and Mulder laughs and looks at the floor. 

“Sorry, I’m being weird,” he says, running his hand across the back of his neck. “I was just going to say…I just felt like I should tell you, or that you should know…” He lifts his head and meets her eye with a level of intensity she wasn’t prepared for, and her stomach drops a little. “I was really scared when you went MIA,” he says. “Just thinking about the possibility that we wouldn’t find you alive was…” He stops and swallows, pausing before he speaks again. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he finally says. 

She steps forward and opens her arms to him and he greedily accepts her embrace, scooping her up into a bear hug that nearly lifts her feet off the floor. It feels like this is what he came here for, to ease his own mind and see for himself that she continues to be alive and well. She feels the beat of his heart thrumming against her rib cage, hard and fast, and her own heart follows suit in anticipation. He holds her for much longer than is customary, and when he finally loosens his grip enough for her to pull away a little, she presses her lips to the corner of his mouth without giving it much thought. It just feels like the natural thing to do. 

Mulder stiffens, but doesn’t let go of her. A bolt of shock at her own out of character behavior makes her ears ring, and for a moment she doesn’t move at all. Mulder turns his head slightly, which makes his bottom lip brush across hers, and an involuntary little whimper escapes the back of her throat. 

His mouth tastes like sweet pineapple and acidic tomato sauce, and it’s so abundantly clear that he’s wanted to kiss her since long before tonight. She’s wanted to kiss him too—of course she has—but they can’t. They can’t, but they are, and she’s not sure why she’s doing this but she knows she doesn’t want to stop. His tongue is in her mouth and they’re pawing at each other like horny teenagers, and she doesn’t want to stop more than she doesn’t want to find out what will happen if they don’t stop. 

“Wait,” Mulder says, grabbing her hands to stop her from unbuttoning his fly right here in her foyer. It hits her like a ton of bricks just how stupid this is. How reckless. “What are we…what does this mean?” he asks, his eyes questioning and his cock visibly hard. 

Scully shakes her head softly, dazed and aroused beyond rational thinking. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she says, and she means it. She knows he has nothing more to give her, and she knows that she is unwilling to sacrifice a larger slice of her life to him than she already has. 

He stares at her for a beat, debating, and then his mouth is right back on hers. 

When she was with Jack, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. His arms around her waist were an anchor, and his kiss stole the air from her lungs. His love was an obligation. Being with him felt like drowning, and she had to swim for the surface to save herself. 

Mulder is nothing like Jack. She’s never felt as safe in anyone’s arms as she does in his, and when she kisses him her whole body lights up. He’s not asking her to love him, though she thinks she could. He’s not asking anything from her at all, and yet she desperately wants to give herself to him. Give him her mind, her dedication, her body. He treats each of these with equal reverence, and whatever the opposite of objectified is she’s feeling it now as he peels the clothes from her body and lays her down gently on top of her bed.  

He crawls over her, nude and stiff to the point of leaking, and nudges her leg to the side with his knee. He watches her face while he touches her with two gentle fingers, mapping her body by feel, and his undivided attention is the most erotic thing she’s ever experienced. He makes her come embarrassingly quickly, first with his fingers and then his mouth, before she manages to get her hands on him. He tucks his face into the crook of her neck while she strokes him firmly, murmuring little words of pleasure and affirmation that make her feel like a goddess. 

It’s been so long since she’s been with anyone that she doesn’t have a condom, but she trusts him enough to rely on her birth control and his promise to pull out. He pushes into her slowly, kissing her all the while, and the stretch of him makes her gasp with surprise and pleasure. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks quietly, his hips stilled. 

“No,” she whimpers, wrapping one leg around his hips to pull him closer. “You’re not hurting me, Mulder.”

Somehow it feels like fucking and making love at the same time. His mouth on her neck, his hand clasped with hers, his cock buried deep inside her. Being with him feels like flying, like an endless endorphin rush. She may never be able to get enough.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he sputters.

Suddenly his slippery cock is laid out on her belly, streaks of hot white cum shooting up onto her breasts. She wraps him up in her fist, stroking him through the final few throbs until he begins to grow soft in her hand. He looks up and smiles at her, a kind of uncomfortable was that a mistake? smile, and she smiles back at him. 

“I’ll get you a towel,” he says, and she averts her eyes out of habit as he makes a run for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later they are back at her front door, fully dressed. Scully picks the pizza box up off her dining room table and hands it to him sheepishly, and he drums his fingers against the thin cardboard lid as he tries to think of something to say. 

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” she says casually, like they just ate pizza and watched a movie, nothing more. 

Mulder sighs, potentially with relief, and nods. 

“I’ll bring you a coffee,” he offers.

“That’d be great,” she says casually, opening her front door for him. 

They wave at one another awkwardly, and she watches him walk down her hallway and out the building before she closes and locks her door.

Mulder is nothing like Jack, she’s sure of it. And she’s not going to run away this time—she’s going to see where he takes her. Where he takes them both. 

She’s never felt more excited in all her life.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Ooh I’ve been very hesitant about reaching out to you for this (my own mind being weird don’t worry) but I just really love your fics and I would love to see some more because it brings me a lot of joy seeing your work come by on my dash. im sending lots of love and creative energy your way!!

as for the emojis that i almost forgot:

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

Aww hey!! No need to be nervous with me I love receiving these and I am so very appreciative of the kind works <3 Thank you!!!

60 for 🔼:

We might reach some big spoilers here? Unsure!

---

And he means it. August 4th 2020 Shannon better get ready. “You want a hand carrying things up?”

“Oh,” Shannon says. “It’s okay. There’s an elevator.”

“Still,” Buck replies. “It’s a lot to carry.”

“You’re relentlessly helpful,” Shannon accuses.

“Guilty as charged,” Buck grins.

“Fine,” she says. “I’d appreciate the help, Buck.”

It never once crosses his mind that going up into her apartment would be a bad idea. He swears, it never does. 

◀️

It’s a mistake. 

She knows it’s a mistake as soon as the door is shut behind them, and he’s laying her dry cleaner bags over the back of a chair. It’s a mistake because he has no reason to stay, but she doesn’t want him to leave. 

And maybe she’s not really thinking, is the other thing. There’s no inherent malintent. None at all. She’s not really thinking, because he’s asking her about art and the things she used to like.  For a moment, she just feels like herself. Like Shannon, the person who used to exist. Before she drained the hope from Eddie’s eyes. Before she got married to a choppy video call reception with the desert. Before she failed to keep her baby healthy after a birth injury she didn’t see coming. Before Helena drilled into her how she was failing; as a mother, as a wife, as a woman. Before she lost her mom. She’s just Shannon, with dreams and goals that someone thinks she’s capable of. 

So when she steps closer to him at the door and thanks him for helping her today, and he smiles at her and says, “it was really my pleasure, Shannon,” her brain goes offline. 

She’s just Shannon. She doesn’t have a husband or children. Her relentless hormone-induced horniness is just because of the gorgeous man in front of her. The kind, thoughtful man who wanted to spend time with her. Who makes her feel good about herself. Her body is on fire and her brain has melted and…

And she kisses him. 

She reaches a hand to cup his face, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses him. 

He’s warm. His lips are soft. His face is a bit stubbly. It’s been a very long time since she has kissed anyone but Eddie, but this feels different. Not a bad sort of different. A little thrilling maybe. She wants more. A lot more.

Buck takes a second to respond. He is understandably caught off guard. 

There’s a brief second, after he processes, where he starts to kiss her back. Where he raises a hand, lets it hover above her waist. But he doesn’t touch her. He comes to his senses before then. 

Buck pulls away, scrambling back from Shannon like she’s burned him. His back hits her door. 

Shannon steps away from him, hands flying to her mouth.

“Oh my god,” she exhales into her palm as the full gravity of what she’s done crashes over her. 

Buck looks horrified. Those kind blue eyes are twisted with confusion  and something else she can’t read. 

“I would never do that to Eddie,” Buck says. His tone is scathing. Scolding. “I-I would never!”

[shakingparadigm]

WOW. I JUST. I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR ANALYSIS AND THEORIES DON'T EVER STOP PLEASE. I LOVE THE STRUCTURE OF YOUR EXPLANATIONS.

In the chaos of the wait,there is someone to accompany me through a journey of madness with Alien Stage. Haha.

*insert meme of cat with wine*

I wonder what does Till think about Ivan.Now that Mizi is missing,and he seems to have completely lost himself and a reason to pursue forward,I couldn't help but ask myself: "Does he feel like he's condemned to die because of his guilt towards Ivan too? Does he feel like this or l'm just overthinking?" What if there's a retrospective we don't know about in which Till thinks Ivan didn't escape because of HIM and,now that Mizi isn't there,he's not torn about lvan anymore and what to do if he ever had to compete against him? Was he going to be conflicted in the first place? Like: "I have nothing,l lost my last hope. I may just die now rather than make my friend being killed. Is this the right thing? Why it had to be this way from the beginning,suffering because of the aliens? What am I? Why do I have to remember those things? What am I doing this for? I just wanted to survive and love Mizi"

Like we all know,thanks to the community posts,we see him have a certain dynamic with Ivan,in which they interact joking or bickering,and this strengthens a type of attachment he cannot deny. So,in the ROUND CURE we'll see Till (or Ivan) remember their past and we'll get to know more about their story with the progression of the actual one. (Ivan indeed didn't escape to stay with him,but Till doesn't know about lvan feelings,he may have been supposing all this time that he didn't made it or he just followed him back for some strange reason) I'm uncertain if they remember about seeing each other in the laboratories,through all the trauma...

l just hope that Till and Ivan don't succumb. What if lvan encourages Till to fight again unlike Luka with Mizi. What will Ivan do to try to protect Till?

Sometimes I suspect Vivinos like to play with us. Not just our feelings. WE ARE HERE JUST TO SUFFER.

THE HEARTBEATS IN THE TEASER MAKE ME FEEL SO NERVOUS HELP.

I just know that Till looks so broken and... he may have had a breakdown at this point. He has dark circles under his eyes and it's clear he has not been sleeping. I wonder if the aliens drugged him or something. For the lenght of the hair: how much time has passed?! At least a month?

One more thing I noticed,is that Till doesn't seem to have that sort of IV tube they used to sedate him like on stage in ROUND 2.

And in Hyuna's song,around the end,a security guard writes something in the sand. I don't think they'll be discovered for this but I'm really nervous.

Anyway,l really enjoy my time on your beautiful page! 🫂 Oh,please! Don't think you write stupid things,because your ideas and perspective are interesting and well put. I really like how you express yourself!

Have a nice day!! (and sorry for any mistake)

AH?!!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! tears in my eyes...

Yes!!! I shall accompany you through the madness. In fact I carry the madness in myself as well. If my yelling and flood of posts are anything to go by.

ALSO. WOW. That's genuinely so heartbreaking. Till having guilt isn't talked about often but it's very plausible that he'll be feeling it tenfold during this round. It's his fault, after all, that they're still here. Now that Mizi, the whole reason he stayed, is gone too, what was all of it for? He doomed himself and Ivan for nothing. You're right. He seems hopeless. I can definitely feel Till in those words, and it's so sad to think about how his thoughts could devolve to that point. He seemed so determined, so bright and dynamic at the beginning during ROUND 2. Now he seems so empty. Ivan and Till are definitely much closer than the both of them let on, there's no way they were just "fine". I think Till does hold fondness for Ivan, maybe even a little aware of his feelings (I don't think he knows what extent though, not sure he knows that Ivan's world literally revolves around him). What I'm sure of is that Till isn't as indifferent to Ivan as he might seem. Ivan is incredibly important to him too, and he has to come to terms with all of the guilt and feelings that were previously buried under his love and fixation for Mizi.

Oh... If Ivan spent most of ROUND 6 encouraging Till to fight I would be HEARTBROKEN. I remember one of the most common theories in the beginning was that Ivan would refuse to fight so that Till could win, and maybe Till would try and convince Ivan to fight. It's really interesting to see that the opposite might be true instead! And yes, VIVINOS LOVES to play with our feelings! It's their specialty.

Haha, Till's always had horrible eyebags! He apparently only gets less than 5 hours of sleep per day, and he's an incredibly light sleeper. Despite his eyebags though, Till always possessed such a large amount of energy. He had a lot of fight in him. You're right though, now he just seems exhausted. He's definitely been spiralling down into some very dooming thoughts. I wonder how much time has passed too...

An IV tube? I believe that's just his leash (just to make sure he's constantly restrained), but wow, thinking of it as an IV tube has some very horrifying implications. If they tried to sedate him, it definitely didn't work well HAHAH (RIP Freddie).

I thought the security guard writing in the sand was just a fun little visual gag, but if it's actually used to track down Mizi and Hyuna, oh shit. Improved security, after all. This isn't gonna be easy for them.

Thank you so much for enjoying my blog!! It means a lot to me, seriously. I might cry receiving all these nice notes and messages. Don't worry about any mistakes, by the way! You're quite a well-put writer yourself! :) Thank you for expressing yourself to me as well! I appreciate sharing all these ideas and hearing about new ones! I hope you have a great day too! ^^

[glatisant-questing]

Short Stories from the Hakuouki Manyo no Shou Stellaworth Bonus Booklet (Part 4)

This is the translation of the last part of the Manyo Stellaworth Bonus Booklet! All three stories (Kazama, Iba, and Sakamoto's stories) take place in Edo Blossoms and may contain some mild spoilers, so be sure that you are okay with them to continue reading ;-) As always, the icons/banners come from the game's website.

Kazama's Story

"May the two of you find repose in this room" the innkeeper said graciously, and escorted us into the room. However, the moment we stepped through the door, both I and the young girl from the Yukimura family stood still in surprise. "…!" The two futons in the room were nestled side by side, a placement suggesting that the innkeeper might have mistaken us for a wedded couple. "As such, may you enjoy your stay." With impeccable manners, the innkeeper left the room. After the disastrous culmination of the Battle of Toba-Fushimi, we pursued the Shinsengumi back to the Eastern provinces. Since it was getting late, we decided to stay here for the night.

"Um, Mr. Kazama…" Calling my name, Yukimura Chizuru's face was not only red but her neck was also crimson. (Does she think I'm going to do something to her?) Back when we were still in Kyoto, I had made multiple raids on Shinsengumi's headquarters and clashed in conflict with their soldiers. While I could empathize with her insecurities about what I may do… "Don't worry. I'm not the type to lay my hands on a woman before she was wedded to me." "Truly?" The young girl from the Yukimura family cast an uncertain gaze at me. "Of course. I also made an agreement with the female Oni of Hachisuka, remember? Oni never breaks their promises." "Yes, I do remember…" Upon hearing my words, she finally seemed to let down her guards a little, and the tension in her shoulders relaxed. "But, I am a man of reason. If indeed, you find yourself wanting to marry me, I wouldn't rule out the possibility." After I added that, the young girl from the Yukimura family retreated and stood with her back against the wall. "N-No, I never promised anything like that!" With that, she tightly clutched the small dagger that she carried with her. I thought to myself, this was undoubtedly a young girl inclined to react excessively. (At first, I was only interested in her because she is a descendant of the Yukimura family of the oni clan in the Eastern provinces, but…) Gradually, I found myself attracted by her charm. Like how she would take each of my little pranks with earnest, how attentive she was to others' needs, and how she always seemed to intuitively comprehend the way things are.

"Um, Mr. Kazama?" "I won't lay a finger on you. If I break my word, you can use that little dagger of yours to kill me, or do as you please. But speaking of that, I won't make it easy for you to kill me." With that, I extinguished the light and lay down in the futon. Yukimura Chizuru seemed to hesitate for a moment, but before long, I felt her get into the futon too. Judging from the way she breathed, it seemed that she still had not completely let go of her vigilance. (That's okay. There's plenty of time. As long as she keeps on traveling with me, a day will come when she eventually falls in love with me. It's just a matter of time, so there's no need for haste.) While musing over these thoughts, I realized that the sound coming from the neighboring futon had gradually become the soothing breathing of deep slumber. (She still seems a bit guarded, but she must be really tired, too.) I recalled her nervous look from earlier and couldn't help but smile in amusement. (If this girl becomes my wife, life among the oni clan will certainly be anything but dull.) With these thoughts I closed my eyes, leaving the world to the realms of dreams.

☄︎fin.☄︎

Iba's Story

"My apologies. I heard that my servant's family has encountered an unfortunate circumstance, and it appears he must hastily return to his hometown," I said with regret as I arranged Chizuru's futon in my room. "It's… It's quite all right. There's nothing to be done about it," Chizuru replied. She had been lodging in my home in Edo for several days now. Just as we were beginning to grow accustomed to life here, the servant who had been looking after us decided to return to his hometown for a few days. Moreover, with Chizuru attracting the attention of many who might be chasing after her, I couldn't bear the thought of her sleeping alone. "I will place the futons. Please wait for a little over there," I said, intending to lay out her futon first. "Wait a moment, let me do it. In gratitude for Iba-san's hospitality, please allow me to do what I can." Chizuru replied. "You needn't trouble yourself…" "It's no trouble; please let me." With these words, Chizuru quickly began to lay out not only her futon but also mine. In the blink of an eye, the futons for the two of us were ready. (It's almost as if… We're a married couple.) As I looked at the two futons that were placed side by side, this idea involuntarily crossed my mind. I stole a glance at Chizuru, who was standing beside me. "…" It seemed that she was thinking along similar lines. Her cheeks gradually took on a rosy hue. "Let me guess what you're thinking right now," I said, inquiring. She shivered nervously. "No, I… I wasn't… I wasn't thinking of anything!" Though Chizuru responded otherwise, her adorable reactions were easy to read, always betraying her feelings. "Really? You don't feel like we look like a newly married couple?" I asked, half in jest. "…!" I had hit the mark. Even the tips of her ears were in blush. She bashfully lowered her head and hastily slipped under the covers. "How can you say that…! How could I ever match Iba-san if we were married…" She seemed to have managed to express this thought after some effort. "Is that so? But if you were truly my wife, I would be quite honored," I said. "…" I sensed her holding her breath beneath the covers. "I don't say such things lightly; I've always been sincere." After those words, I extinguished the lamp. The room immediately darkened, allowing us to feel each other's presence even more keenly. (I don't want to rush things… Will that day truly arrive? The day I take you as my wife…) With these thoughts in mind, I, too, pulled the covers over myself to sleep. ☄︎fin.☄︎

Sakamoto's Story

"Oh, this room looks gorgeous! Staying here, we would surely rest well. Chizuru?" "Y-Yes…" After the Battle of Toba-Fushimi, as we followed the trail of the Shinsengumi all the way to Edo, Chizuru and I traveled to the Eastern provinces, intending to spend the night at an inn along the way. If we couldn't reach the inn before nightfall, we would definitely end up spending the night outdoors. However, luck was on our side today. "By this time, it's likely that the pub is already closed. We can dine tomorrow. "Y-Yes, that sounds reasonable…" Chizuru's response was strained, and her expression was also rather awkward as she constantly avoided meeting my gaze. (Well, it can't be helped. It's the first time we've shared a room like this. I don't think this girl has ever been in a romantic relationship before.) "Rest assured, I have no interest in imprisoning a woman who doesn't desire my company. I won't lay a finger on you," I reassured her, though it seemed she was not entirely assured. "……In that case. Here, take this." I withdrew the pistol from my pocket and took hold of Chizuru's wrist, placing the firearm in her hand. "Ryoma-san, what is this for?" "In case something unpleasant happens, just use this to pierce my heart. It has silver bullets, right? Those can actually kill me." I said, but Chizuru turned pale at my words. "How can you say such things…!" Her expression also grew tense. "… Even if it's a joke, please don't say things like that. How could I ever harm Ryoma-san…" Indeed, I had taken my joke way too far, especially considering Chizuru had lost her important companions in the Battle of Toba-Fushimi. "I'm sorry; I was too thoughtless. I only wanted to put your mind at ease, but it seems I did just the opposite. "It's alright…" Chizuru quietly shook her head. Then, she picked up the pistol and handed it back to me. "Although you say that, I'd still prefer you to hold onto it. It might make you feel safer, after all." I said. "It's alright… I trust Ryoma-san, so please take this gun back, Ryoma-san." Seeing Chizuru looking directly at me, this time I was the one taken aback. "I'll go change into my nightgown." Chizuru said, and she was ready to leave the room. "No, I'll step out for a moment, and you can change your clothes here. Just let me know when you're done." "Oh…" I left Chizuru in the room and went out into the corridor. (Chizuru is as resolute as ever. Her straightforwardness only makes me like her even more.) Even though I was being led on by a girl much younger than me, it was a rather pleasant feeling. (Despite the numerous frustrations, as long as I'm with her, this journey seems like it'll be an enjoyable one.) I contemplated this as I waited for Chizuru to finish changing. ☄︎fin.☄︎

[polyhexian]

Since Raine was a teacher I think once they have Hunter living in their home they would immediately start to notice the signs of abuse. They would probably have issues with Hunter eating the normal amount of food for a kid his age because Belos starved him and also Hunter probably wouldn’t really be a big fan of something like pasta with sauce but wouldn’t say anything because he’s too nervous to make Raine unhappy with him so he doesn’t really eat much despite being underweight.

Hunter would probably go stiff if they put a hand on his shoulder or flinch if they heard them in anyway upset with him.

Hunter would probably take all of Raine’s suggestions on what to do while in the house at orders and carry them out with military precision even if Raine just suggested they watch a cartoon on the crystal ball.

Hunter probably has a lot of nightmares too so Raine would wake up to him screaming in his sleep.

Like Raine had hunter for a short while and the whole time it’s just one terrible revelation of what a monster Belos truly was after another.

raine definitely starts off worried about what the fuck jasper wants with this minor but i mean really theres better ways to Steal A Child, it being this SPECIFIC child who is VERY difficult to steal ironically makes it less suspicious like. okay. legitimately what is your game. and also like again despite the fact raine has seen him throw this kind on his ass a hundred times, theyve also seen him fucking vaporize one of their allies for trying to kill him so like. truly. what is his game here.

and then like. once they see how truly BAD it is with hunter, the way he flinches, how DEEP the soldier persona goes, the food and the sleep and the isolation- then its like. well, fuck, i would have wanted to help him too. so 1. how did the martlet know about all this before anyone else, because he CLEARLY knew about all this before anyone else did 2. why didnt he just tell me the truth? 3. why DIDNT he just take him and run?

i think theyre putting pieces together and while they probably have multiple theories- they might not know about the grimwalker stuff yet, but they know this kid is an orphan and related to the emperor, they know he was found the day the previous golden guard died, they know the martlet has the same colour hair as hunter, they've seen it, they know hes incredibly protective of him, they know the martlet is scarred as fuck and an incredible combatant AND a high level magic user despite never using magic- once they find out hunter cant use magic without a staff? click, dude. thats probably genetic! this guy has been around about as long as the previous GG has been gone. he looks like hunter, he's protective of hunter, he never uses magic without a staff, and the second raine asks darius about the previous GG, knowing they were close, "hey, did you ever see that guy use magic without a staff?" that seals the deal dude. raine has clocked that motherfucker from a mile away.

only now like. thats a NEW concern. okay, cool! parent. got it. well that explains his intentions. but now like- wow, he HAS hit this kid a lot, even if his motivations were clearly rescuing him. can he even be TRUSTED with him? would hunter be healthy living with this guy? is he even capable of living like a normal person? he still wont take off his stupid fucking mask or tell them his stupid fucking name! and oh, fuck- if he's the previous gg, he's done some VILE shit. should they be doing something about HIM?

darius and raine im sure have a very exciting conversation putting all the jigsaw pieces together before they realize that jasper isn't dead, jasper is the martlet, jasper is a powerless witch, jasper has a son, and holy shit is that son fucked up and in dire need of help.

meanwhile jasper is like ho ho i am sooooo good at lying and secrets absolutely no one suspects anything

[major-knighton]

HALLOW-LEE-N movie review Oct 28th : The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973)

I skipped quite a few of the Hammer Dracula movies on account of being unable to find them. This one is the last of the movies to feature Lee, and second before last Hammer Dracula movie overall.

It's 1972, London, and strange things are going on in the basement of a house. A man wakes up on a bed, all beaten up. He kills his guard and creeps out of the house, but he is pursued by evil guys on motorbikes. He gets rescued and brought back to his headquarters (some kind of intelligence agency) and spills the tea before dying.

His bosses, Torrence and Matthews, discuss what is happening and explain it to a police guy named Inspector Murray. I believe Murray was a character in the previous film that I skipped.

Four members of high society including a Minister have been photographed leaving that strange house, where according to the dead guy's testimony was home to satanic rituals. We see those satanic rituals, featuring a bunch of shots of a naked young woman getting very excited about having blood dripped on her. Whatever.

Murray takes this problem to Lorrimer Van Helsing, a descendant, and carbon copy of the old Van Helsing. His granddaughter Jessica is also there, I am given to understand she played a major role in the previous movie as well.

One of the guys photographed at the spooky house is an old college friend of Van Helsing, so he goes to see him. The friend is a nervous wreck who ends up breaking down and confessing he's working on an accelerated radioactive plage bacillus, and he needs to be finished before the 23rd, when the Sabbath will happen.

The friend unsurprisingly gets killed by the satanic cult the same day. Meanwhile, Torrence's secretary gets kidnapped by the evil bikers and served to Dracula for a drink.

Later, Torrence, Murray and Jessica go to the house of horrors. They ask Jessica to stay behind in a Dracula-typical display of not trusting the female characters, and go ring the bell and talk to the cult leader all polite-like. Barbara Yu Ling is very fun as the cult leader BTW.

Meanwhile, Jessica sneaks into the basement and she does quite well for herself, until she finds a bunch of chained up vampire ladies, including the secretary. Is her subsequent hysterical screaming a case of 70s female character syndrome or a depiction of her trauma from nearly being drinked in the previous movie? I'll leave that to you.

The vampire ladies are defeated by turning on the sprinkler, because their fear of running water apparently applies to showers. I dread to think how the undead smell.

Van Helsing hears about a guy not showing up in photos and his Dracula alarm bells immediately start ringing. He tracks down the place where he last killed Drac to a large company building which is also funding our dead plague scientist's research. Suspicious!

Van Helsing goes up to meet the CEO who plays at putting on a Lugosi accent and hiding his face to pretend that he is Not Dracula, but a little trick with a Bible reveals that he is in fact very much Dracula. Van Helsing tries to kill him but the remaining three cult members stop him.

Van Helsing is brought to the house, where Jessica lays prepared for the sacrifice. Dracula explains that he will make Jessica his bride, and the three stooges plus Van Helsing will be infected with his radioactive super plague and carry it out to the world to end makind. Wow.

Murray sneaks in, accidentally starts a fire which conveniently destroys the plague infected dude, but Murray, Van Helsing and Jessica all make it out. Dracula seems to really enjoy chasing after Van Helsing, until the latter takes refuge near a hawthorne tree. Since Jesus's crown of thorns was made of hawthorne, it harms Dracula, who doesn't think of going around the tree instead of right through it, enough that Van Helsing can stake him with a fence picket.

Thus perishes for good the most powerful vampire of all time, bested by a bush. I definitely get why people say the Dracula series started off strong and then got gradually weirder and less coherent. Cushing and Lee were still giving it their all though, so it was still a fun ride. 6/10.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

German Comic Con May 2023

First and foremost I want to talk about the amazing connections I have made on my very first con. I met people I had already been talking to online and new people who I brought into the Nowalls fold.

I was in amazing company with a vast array of different people, who were all so open minded and so sweet. I had a hoot and I developed myself a bit more, socially. These girls made the con unforgettable and I carry each and every one of them in my heart. They were amazing to hang out with and to chat to and to exchange idea's with. The connections we made will last me this life time.

Saturday was the biggest day for me, I had two photo ops and two autographs planned. Arnas first and then Mark. I could not have been more nervous even if I tried. Especially because Arnas was first, so I got thrown into the deep end big time. But it was sink or swim and Arnas was a lovely life guard.

He was so sweet asking for my name and smiling gently and I could barely get a word out. He asked me if I had a pose in mind, which I did, but I defo was far too nervous and feeling the pressure too much to be able to ask him to dip me. He suggested to just hug me, for which I am very grateful still. People say the photo turned out really good.

He was so warm and so gently and I felt like I fucked it up and was so awkward, but he tried his best with the nervous wreck I was.

Mark was next up and although I was not as nervous, I still felt the pressure a lot and I was very closed off to him, which I am sorry for, Mark did not deserve me locking him out like that. I think he felt it and he tried to make the best of what little I gave him to work with. He suggested we look up in the camera all bad ass and that went as well as I could be trusted with at that moment.

I am not very happy with the picture I took of Mark, but the way he turned it on it's head was when it came time to sign it for me.

I lined up with the giftbag I constructed with the amazing contributions of Nowalls. Mark was very happy to receive his giftbag and thanked me for it, promising he'd look through it later. I confessed to him that his moustache makes him look a lot like my dad. He used to have the exact same moustache in the 90s. So Mark suggested he'd write 'I swear I am not actually her dad' on the pic. I told him to do it, but he changed his mind and said he'd put down a cool film title instead. He came up with '2 Take On the World' and I told him I have to write about that now and he told me I'd better.

My experience with Mark was very pleasant. He is very sweet and kind and is so ready to just have a chat.

He told me about the plans for Nowalls and tried to convince me to participate in their gaming plan, but no dice there, because I am not a gamer, and I have to plan around Fayen. He asked me if my partner was a gamer, trying to get him into the fold too, but I told him that was also not really going to happen.

After Mark I went to Arnas' line.

To say I was starstruck is an understatement. My heart was beating so fast it showed under my skin. I was nervous and excited and amazed by how open a person he is.

I gave him his Nowalls giftbag, which he took and sprinted backstage with it. He returned after a few second, having gone through it and discovering I mixed up something adressed to Alex. So I asked my friend to go swap it from what was still in my backpack. Arnas made the joke he gets confused with Alex a lot. That broke the ice for the most part and I told him not to be like that. Then I gave him the smaller baggie with his birthday gift in. I made him pinky promise not to open it until his birthday and he better keep to that, or I will fly out to London and spank him.

He signed the photo and we had a small chat about where I was from (boy clocked me as Dutch, saying Dutch people always speak English a gentle way, unless they speak Dunglish) and he displayed his talent for Dutch swearwords. We somehow ended up in an exchange about NL having a lot of atheists, and me thinking it is bc we have a lot of academic inclined area's, though I meant to say scientific and Arnas mentioned Karl Jung being Christian.

Then my friend reminded me I had two questions to ask Arnas. The first question was 'What do Sihtric's tattoos signify?' and I at first forgot to specify it's about the finger tattoos, so he asked me which I like better. I said I meant the finger tat, that the scalp tattoo fits Sihtric well, but that I am not very fond of Jormungandr. He made me repeat the Midgard Serpent's name and then I pointed out I am a Norse Pagan (mostly) and he seemed very impressed by that. His answer was initially that the tallies are indeed that, to count how many people he's killed before he met Uhtred. But then Arnas added on that Sihtric might have just really liked tigers and wanted himself some stripes. And I had to be the killjoy to say 9th century England probably did not know tigers. My second questions was 'What is the name of your season 4 horse?' and he first answered with the actor horse name, which sounded pretty but I can't remember for the life of me. So I specified I was wondering about how Sihtric called the horse and Arnas stated it had been Heimdall, in his mind. He did not need to think on it long, either.

And then I gave him my miffy bracelet. He held out his wrist for me to put it on, but the last few links were all jumbled up, so I could not get it around his wrist properly. My hands were shaking a lot and Arnas first told me to take a steadying breath and then sort of cupped my hand with his free one. I did not manage to get the bracelet to close, so Arnas suggested he'd do it himself later in the green home after he'd managed to untangle the last links, but I told him I would really like to do it myself. So Arnas suggested I untangle the last links outside his line and come back to him once I got them undone. It took me a few minutes, together with my friend. I gave a hoot and Arnas was already coming back around his table to receive my bracelet. I was once more shaking and he again cupped my hand, assuring me it's okay and to take it slow. He also said I didn't have to be so careful, but I then said I did not want to cut off his circulation, which he agreed with.

Arnas gave me a good few hugs (against Mark's single, very half arsed hug. It was soo losey goosey) but I asked to be squeezed real tight. I felt so floaty and kind of like I was falling apart and Arnas gave me such a nice firm squeeze that it put me right back together.

After that, I spend time wandering around with my friend and chatting up a storm with all of them. When we left it was raining and my friend and I foolishly spent a lot of time wandering around before we found the hotel. We spent a little while catching ourselves in the hotelroom and then went out to eat with a good group of other girls.

The second day I was feeling really under the weather. I had had an aweful night and felt like hellheim shat me out. But I want back to the con anyway, because I still had Alexander's giftbag and one of Arnas' envelopes had managed to stay in my backpack. My own poem to him, even.

We had the panel to attend to first, though. I lined up for a question and so did one of my friends. I asked the lads where Sihtric's family had gone and Alex answered they were with Stiorra and Uhtred's old age, which is a cop out if I have ever smelled one. But I was too nervous to press him for it and went back to my seat. My friend, mostly inspired by me asked Alex for one last 'SIHTRIC', which he readily did. Arnas, almost reflexively went 'Yes Lord' right away, which was such a joy to see, too.

After the panel we wandered a little (I got myself a huge jumping spider plush) and I went up to Alex' assistant to ask if it was okay for me to give Alex his giftbags, whihc I could, as long as I got somewhere in the front of the line. I managed this and we waited a good long while for Alex to come back from the Photo Ops. By the time I was up, I was desperate for the bathroom. I have the feeling that I rushed through giving him his giftbags, but my friends assure it went well. Alex thanked me warmly and liked the scrabble tile candle I got him.

Once I had sorted my bladder out, I went to Mark's line and asked him for some writing ideas, but did not get much out of him, he really wanted to go on break, which I understand.

I went up to Arnas again and shilled out for a selfie. He asked me how I was and told me a bit on how he was doing and what he had done the prior night, which was so sweet. I took my phone out for a the selfie and the first thing he spotted was the picture on my phonecase, which is of my daughter when she was not yet a year old. I said that it's my kiddo and then turned the case around for the picture of my at the same age. He said he coulda sworn the pics were of the same baby. I showed him a pic of my dad and my kiddo, which is more recent. He loved my dad's garden and wanted to know where in NL it is.

He took two selfies and then made a bit of a face, for which I gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder.

I asked him for example pics of the finger tats, for my tattoo artist, as well. He DMed them over insta and then DMed me again at midnight with the bracelet pic.

I went back for a last hug a bit later on and I might have made a bit of a weird noise. But he's still talking to me on insta, so I did not freak him out with it, too much at least.

I had a blast of a time, even though half of the weekend I felt like utter crud. Paris cannot come soon enough.

💚🦊💚🦊💚

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Gilgamesh, Son of Zantabraxus (2/3)

Fandom: Girl Genius Pairing: Agatha/Gil Summary: Twenty years ago, Queen Zantabraxus gave birth to twins. Twenty years ago, the queen's consort, Chump, took one of their children and vanished. Zantabraxus chose to let him go, to spare her second child. In one universe, Zantabraxus raised her daughter. In this one, she raised her son. Agatha joins the circus and meets Gil, who has almost as many secrets as Agatha does. They help each other get stronger, in unexpected ways. And maybe fall in love a little bit but they don't really have time to deal with all that right now.

<Ch 1 | AO3 Link

It was only when Krosp bit her on the leg and said “Go answer the door!” that Agatha woke up enough to hear the knocking. Blearily, she tugged the window curtain aside enough to see that the outside world was lit by the pearly pre-dawn light.

“’M coming,” she called, dragging herself out from under the nice warm covers, glaring at Krosp as he promptly curled up in the warm spot and went back to sleep.

It was Gil.

He looked nervous and twitchy, bouncing a little on his toes.

“Hi,” he said. “Good morning. How are you?”

Agatha blinked slowly, trying to get her brain in gear. Gil shut his eyes briefly and muttered something that sounded like “Ashtara strike me down.”

“Sleepy,” was all she could manage, too tired to even be annoyed at the abrupt awakening.

“Right. Sorry. I know it’s early but I wanted to talk to you before everyone got up.”

He looked embarrassed, but his nervousness faded slightly, growing more serious.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday. That was...I don’t really know what happened but none of the words that came out of my mouth were what I was actually trying to say. At all. I’ve been carrying that weight since I was a kid, and you made me feel...I…you were...”

Some inner sense told Agatha that if she let Gil ramble any further, he’d say something stupid again, so she put a hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” she said. “And I’m glad I could help.”

Gil beamed at her. Agatha waited, but he just kept grinning.

“Was...that it?”

“Yeah...No!” Gil shook himself. “No, I want to repay you. And don’t say I don’t have to, because I do. The Baron is looking for you. We can help you hide, but sooner or later he’ll track you down, and when he does, you’ll need to fight. I can teach you. I want to teach you.” 

“How?” growled a voice from down by Agatha’s knees. Krosp glared up at Gil, suspiciously. “You’re a glorified caravan guard with a few flashy dance moves. What could you teach her?”

“Krosp!” Agatha hissed. Gil’s jaw worked back and forth; his eyes grew dark. Somehow, Agatha got the feeling that Krosp was being a lot more insulting than he was trying to be.

“I keep us safe in the wastelands. Isn’t that enough proof I’m a real warrior?”

“It’s very sweet of you to offer,” Agatha said. “Maybe you could teach me how to throw a proper punch.”

She’d always wanted to be able to punch somebody.

Gil stared at her for a moment, then tipped his head back.

“I’m going to have to tell you,” he said, although he seemed to be mostly talking to himself. He dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “Ugh, okay, can I come inside? I need to explain something to you but I’d rather nobody hear us.” 

Agatha stepped aside to let him in, figuring turnabout was fair play. Krosp scurried off and leapt onto the top bunk of the bed, his tail lashing back and forth as he hunkered low and glared at Gil.

“Watch yourself, pal,” he said. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”

Gil shut the door behind himself and guided Agatha over to the table and sat her down. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, then spread his arms in a pose so dramatic Agatha had to fight down a giggle.

“I am Gilgamesh, son of Zantabraxus, Prince of Skifander!” 

Agatha’s eyes lit up with interest.

“The warrior queen’s hidden jewel!”

Gil’s mouth popped open. His arms dropped to his sides. Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, that was not it.

“My uncle used to tell me stories about it,” Agatha said.

“You believe me?”

“Of course.”

“...Huh.” Gil sat down on Agatha’s bed, still staring at her. “Well. How about that.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“You are the first person I’ve met who’s even heard of Skifander. I stopped telling people six months after I got here because they all thought I was crazy or lying.”

“Why would they think that?”

Gil gave her a sideways smile.

“Because I can’t prove it. Pirates attacked the airship as soon as we got to Europa. I was the only survivor, and any maps or notes were destroyed when the airship blew up.”

“The pirates blew up the airship?” Agatha exclaimed, aghast.

“No, I blew up the airship, to give myself time to get away on the—” Suddenly he looked sheepish.

“On the…?”

“The...little flying machine I built out of spare parts,” Gil mumbled, and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I got sick of people thinking I was crazy or lying, so I stopped telling people.” 

“Does Master Payne know?”

Gil snorted.

“Circus folks would be even less likely to believe me,” Gil said. “Not that I blame them. They know I’m from a place called Skifander, but I never gave any details, and they never asked.”

“You could tell them now,” Agatha suggested. “Since I’m here.”

Gil waved a hand.

“I really don’t mind. Honestly, it’s been nice not having to be a prince. Might be even nicer now that I let myself be a Spark, too,” he added with a soft smile.

“You know, I’m…” Agatha hesitated. Should she tell him? If anyone would understand about impossible secret identities, it’d be Gil.

No, she decided. It was too dangerous. She barely knew him, after all. When they got to Mechanicsburg, she might tell him.

“I’m glad you told me, and I appreciate you trusting me with it, but I’m not really sure what this has to do with the training thing.”

“I’m getting there. Skifander is...I don’t know your word for it. Inheritance passes from mother to daughter, and our queens are warriors. The royal line guards its secrets fiercely—if I’d had a sister, the crown and the training would have gone to her and her alone. Technically I still shouldn’t have been taught, but my mother…”

He waved a hand.

“Anyway, my point is, I’m not a circus performer offering to teach you a few tricks. I’m a scion of a line of warrior queens, trained by the great warriors of Skifander to become one of the great warriors of Skifander, offering to pass that training on to you.”

“Then...then it would be my honor to accept.”

Gil smiled a smile that made Agatha’s heart flip flop in her chest, leaving her so breathless it took a few seconds to register his words.

“Then let’s get started. Come on, outside.”

“Wait, now?”

“Of course,” Gil said, surprised by the question.

“But it’s barely dawn!”

“Training usually starts during childhood, and the Baron’s actively hunting you. We don’t have any time to waste. First thing’s first, your clothes—”

“Hold on,” Agatha said, suspiciously. “This isn’t going to involve running around in some skimpy, ‘exotic warrior aesthetic’ outfit is it?”

“...No,” Gil said, his expression neutral. “You’ll want to wear something easy to move in that you don’t mind getting dirty or washing a lot. You get changed, and I’ll go put the—I mean, I’ll go get uh. Stuff. Right. Meetyououtsidebye.”

Ten minutes later, Agatha was outside in a loose-fitting shirt and trousers, and Gil was walking very quickly back to her from the direction of the props and costumes wagon.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing! Nothing. I thought I needed a...uhhh...bo staff!" He shrugged in a helpless sort of way. "But I couldn’t find one.”

“You mean like that one?” She pointed to the long wooden staff leaning against the side of her wagon. Gil stared at it.

“Oh. Uh…Oops!” he said suddenly, with a too-bright grin. “I guess I already got it and…forgot. Haha.”  

“Are you alright?” Agatha asked. “You seem nervous.”

Gil’s smile slipped away and he shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure I’m allowed to do this,” Gil admitted. “Like I said, we guard these secrets very closely. Warriors are permitted to teach only their daughters and one other person—ever, in their lives. And that person isn’t supposed to pass it on to anyone.

“I’m not sure if I technically count as being her exception or her heir, but no one ever explicitly told me I couldn’t train anyone so…I should be fine. I think.”

He cleared his throat and put his hands on her shoulders. Agatha could feel their warmth through the shirt. Gil’s eyes were locked with hers, more serious than she’d ever seen him.

“Agatha Clay. By the warrior tradition of my house, I am allowed to train one other—probably—and I have chosen you. The bond between us will be stronger than that of friends, of family, of—” For a second, Gil’s cheeks went pink and his hands twitched. “Of lovers. From this day on, we are kolee-dok-zumil.”

Agatha looked up at him gravely, silent for a long moment.

“Which is…?”

Gil blinked, startled, and then laughed a little. He released Agatha’s shoulders and ambled over to the steps of Agatha’s wagon, where he’d leaned a bo staff. 

“There’s no real direct translation,” he told her. “Most people would probably choose ‘teacher and student’, but it’s more complex. It’s a noun, but contextually it implies action, irrevocable change enacted on one by another.”

He picked up the staff and twirled it idly as he crossed back to Agatha.

“To me it evokes the idea of a chemical reaction, although others compare it to a smelter and ore.”

Gil held the staff horizontally in two hands, considering it.

“I think for right now, you should think of it as—”

There was a sudden pain at the backs of her knees, and she was staring up at the sky in a breathless, weightless moment that ended with gravity’s inevitability and the jarring thump of her skull on the grass.

Gil’s face came into view, grinning ear to ear. 

“Grindstone and knife.”

.

Agatha did not so much as twitch when Gil set the bowl beside her head. She remained face down, flat on the ground, utterly immobile. Gil had stopped training when she laid down like that, and she was afraid if she moved so much as a finger, he’d start again.

“Is it poison.”

“No.”

“I will only eat it if it results in death.” 

Gil settled back against a rock and ate a spoonful of oatmeal from his own bowl.

“You should be proud of yourself,” he said. “You kept going much longer than I thought you’d be able to, considering you’ve obviously got no training, no discipline, and no martial skills whatsoever—and we definitely need to work on your cardiovascular system.” 

Agatha let out a groan of despair.

“Don’t worry,” Gil said, reassuringly. “The first day is the worst on purpose. The zumil is pushed to their absolute limit, so the kolee knows what needs work, and so you can tell when the limit gets better.”

With great effort, Agatha managed to lift her head to look up at him, hopefully.

“Does this mean the rest of the training won’t hurt?”

Gil laughed, crushing Agatha’s hope into teeny tiny pieces.

“No.”

[stewardofningishzida]

Stephen Strange Meta-Fic Sequel Chapter 8: Tibetan Witch Project

We’re baaaaack!~ Sorry for the delay! Life happened to all of us. Without further ado, here we gooooo! Agatha Harkness coming in hot with full witchy glory!

TRIGGER WARNING: Scary situations, mental breakdown, kidnapping, implied torture, death threats

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*With Agatha Harkness now at large, it’s only a matter of time before she finds out who warned the sorcerers about her and Wanda.  The sorcerers brief the others on who Agatha is.  Keeping this in mind, Tear, PrettyWitch, Trix, and I now need to be put under guard.  Otherwise, the witch will hunt us all down.  We’re overwhelmed by the situation and virtually frozen in terror as the heroes catch up and discuss what to do with us.*

Fury: So we need to set up protective custody then… *looks at the others* I’m assuming you don’t want to do so here.

Tony: *Scoffs* Please, SHIELD cannot even stop any sort of portals from opening inside their premises. You really think you can fight against a four-hundred-year-old crazed witch? It’ll be a bloodbath, Fury.

Steve (worried, but also having a nasty feeling about what might happen):  We might need to close the interdimensional portal in case Agatha decides to try and take hostages from your home world.

Tony: *He points at Steve, seconding his concern* Your families are still safe for now, and we’ll work to ensure they remain so. But it’s never a dumb idea to take precautions.

Stephen:  Kamar-Taj is a magical stronghold.  We can conceal the girls there and our sorcerers can defend the place.

Wong:  I will alert our forces.

Tony: You’ll need backup.

Fury: I need as much information on this rogue as possible if she can do this amount of damage. Get the ladies to safety then we’re going to have a chat. *he looks even sterner than before*

Stephen:  I’ll provide the info.  Girls, go with Wong.

Tear: Wha–? Right now? Stephen, you’re literally bleeding on Fury’s white floor. Both you and Wong should be back at Kamar-Taj too.

Stephen:  It’s better if we make sure you’re all off the playing field as quickly as possible.  If we hide you now and fortify Kamar-Taj, it’ll be harder for Agatha to find and get to you.  Don’t worry about me.  We’ve both had worse.  Go.

Trix: *looks at the others* I think we might’ve fucked shit up in a different way than we expected.

*I nod at Trix numbly.*

PrettyWitch: Ah, don’t say that. How could we have known?

Wong:  Come.  I will lead you to the safest chambers of Kamar-Taj.  

*He beckons us and we follow him through the portal as Stephen stays back to brief Fury, Tony, and Steve.  The mystical compound is swarming with activity as the sorcerers fortify the place.  Wong leads us deeper and deeper into the buildings.  It truly is enormous and seems to burrow into the very stone beneath the mountains.  We have to stay close to keep up with him.  Otherwise, we would easily be lost in the labyrinth of chambers and corridors*

Trix: This is starting to feel eerily familiar and I swear to god we are getting rid of any reflective surfaces because I am not about that scary bullshit. *she’s incredibly nervous and fidgeting but is trying to at least act brave*

Me (grasping at straws):  We all remember at least our basic shield spells and a couple of offensive ones, right?

Tear: …Are sorcerers allowed to carry guns? Shotguns usually work against those that just refuse to die.

Me:  Honestly, I have no idea.  Unless we catch her off-guard, I don’t think it would help much.

PrettyWitch: We’re gonna die, aren’t we!?

Wong:  I will personally see to it that there will be no way for Agatha to get through.

*We eventually reach a small room nestled within several other rooms, each one giving off its own peculiar energy.  Putting two and two together, we realize that we’re passing through several layers of magical wards.  The room itself is small and well-lit with no mirrors.  It has a couple of bunk beds, some emergency supplies, and a radio.  There is also a sink, chemical toilet, and a shower curtain for modesty and hygiene purposes.  Otherwise, there isn’t much to minimize any risk of the room’s integrity becoming compromised.*

Me (sincere, in case I don’t get to say it again):  Thank you, Wong.  Also, extend our thanks to Stephen, the Avengers, and everyone else working so hard to protect and help us and our home world.  Please do your best to get out of this in one piece.  We really do look up to and care about you all.  *I’m grim, scared, and trying to stay composed.  Though I really am terrified that this might be the last time we see someone.*

Trix: Yeah, we greatly appreciate everything you’ve all done for us and our universe. I just wish we didn’t make this so difficult for you all. *she continues to fidget and honestly feels incredibly guilty for what’s going on since she’s the one who explained what was going on in Westview*

Tear: Yeah, please be very careful. When we first met Stephen, we never expected any of you to be so kind and supportive. We’ll never be able to repay you how much you’ve done for us.

PrettyWitch: I’m not sure what else to add but thank you, Wong for everything you’ve done for us. It’s been an honor to meet you. Stephen is truly lucky to have you for a friend.

Wong (surprisingly gentle):  We are simply performing our duties.  Thank you for helping Stephen and for being cooperative and kind.  We shall meet again.  *He says the last part to reassure us.  Even then, seeing as there is an afterlife, he isn’t exactly lying if things go badly.*

Trix: *she kind of inches closer to Wong* Depending on how things might go, can we at least have a hug from one of our best teachers? *makes puppy dog eyes at Wong*

Wong (sighing):  Very well.  Then, I must go back and finish preparations.  After I shut this door, stay here and do not leave until either Stephen or I come get you.  Do not open the door from the inside under any circumstance.  Understood?

Me (shakily):  Yes, sir.

Trix: Absolutely! *she absolutely takes advantage of this rare opportunity and goes for a bear hug because not only is it Wong, she is genuinely terrified*

*I’m still shy, but join in the hug.  After all, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do this again.*

Tear: *I quickly join the group hug* We love you, Wong. Please don’t let Stephen do anything stupid.

PrettyWitch: *She joins in the hug, too.*

*After we let go of him, he gives us a respectful nod and shuts us into the room together.  Now, we wait.*

Trix: Guys, I honestly feel really horrible that we accidentally kicked off Multiverse of Madness. Hell, us jumping universes to escape crazy monsters should have been our first clue. *she flops onto the nearest bunk bed face first and groans loudly into the pillow*

Tear: Not one of our brightest moments, in hindsight…

Me (grim):  It seems the timeline was going to progress in one way or another…I said plenty as well.  All of this to avert it and now look…

PrettyWitch: Hey, don’t be like that. If it didn’t happen this way, it would’ve happened another way. 

Trix: *she sits back up on the bed* I mean, it’s either better or worse that it’s Agatha. Better in that she isn’t as instantly powerful as Wanda. Bad in that she knows the darkhold and her magic so well over the centuries and we don���t know exactly what she’s capable of. Coven of Chaos didn’t even have leaks yet. She isn’t like the comics either.

Me:  How long before you think she’ll find out?  

Trix: I give us a week, tops. If even that long. With a lot of the major superheroes disappearing at once it might raise red flags that something is up.

Tear: I’d give it less than that. If she’s really studied the Darkhold for centuries, then she must be well versed in the existence of alternate universes already. Actually getting to visit the multiverse rather than dreamwalking must be really tempting for her.

PrettyWitch: I hadn’t even thought of that.

Me (peering at the “bathroom”):  At least the sink has a matte finish…Small mercies.

Trix: I miss our Chupacabra.

*The sorcerers have fortified Kamar-Taj.  It’s a long, tense wait.  Yet, it seems, the attack never came.  At least, it doesn’t seem like it.  If anything, this apparent calm only makes Stephen and Wong feel even worse.  They know something is coming, but have no idea when or how.  Several days pass.  Caution fatigue is beginning to take root in the guards’ forces.  A few of the more skeptical members of the Order are starting to become complacent.  Meanwhile, in our sanctuary; we’re cooped up, wracked with guilt over what’s happening, and beginning to get on each others’ nerves thanks to being stuck in one room together with no real privacy or way out.*

*I’m currently sitting on my bed with my headphones on since they were in my purse.  I’m playing music in an attempt to distract myself and tune out from everything.  With what’s going on and the helplessness we’re experiencing, I’ve begun to disassociate as a defense mechanism.  It feels like the only way to stay remotely calm right now.  I’m numb and have been partially blaming myself for not seeing this coming.*

*Prettywitch is beside herself. On the one hand, she’s terrified. On the other, she feels a sense of calm, like somehow this will all work out. Unfortunately, it’s the fear that keeps coming back to her, like an endless feedback loop. She does have one idea forming in her head that’s positive, one that might help them and their friends.*

*Trix has been doing her best to practice meditating the past few days and seems to be having a better time of it. She has been getting more and more paranoid that she is bothering the others by doing anything so she tries to stay as inconspicuous as possible and is barely talking or eating at this point.*

*Tear has spent most of her time sketching to pass the time and studying from the spellbooks Wong allowed them to bring in with them. Her bout of insomnia returned with a vengeance, but the longest things stay quiet outside in the temple the more confident she feels that Wong and Stephen have had plenty of time to heal, strategize, and set their defenses. She has kept relatively quiet so as to not aggravate the others, who seem to be getting antsy after being holed up for so many days.*

*While we take refuge, Agatha has been plotting from the shadows.  She has slowly managed to compromise some of the more complacent and skeptical guards, until she is finally ready to strike. She subtly nudges them towards leaving their posts for a break.  While she has an opening, she slips in, all the while, mentally scanning for any anomalous magical signatures.  Deep below the complex, she detects 4 magical signatures that are slightly “off”.  Bingo.  She locks onto the girls and enters the lower levels, taking care not to cast anything yet to avoid detection.  Once she’s within a reasonable range to affect us and remain hidden, she conceals herself and begins to concentrate, using our own magical energy as a conduit to mentally penetrate our sanctuary.  While doing this, she looks for a weakness.  Any weakness will do.*

*Trix is trying to meditate but as the days have gone by, intrusive thoughts can’t help but creep into her mind. Why is she even here if she’s just a liability? The others are already a lot better while she falls over at someone talking or even just a book. She frowns as her thoughts get even darker. Were the others just putting up with her since she could be dangerous to herself? She was just a tag-along after all and couldn’t even pull off spells that weren’t defensive. Wong and Stephen probably pitied her and put in the token effort so that she didn’t kill herself accidentally. At these thoughts, Trix’s eyes shoot open and her lip quivers as she tries not to react. She doesn’t want to bother the others after all. She would be annoyed with her too. Trix scrambles to her feet and begins to pace the room, unable to stay still but hating herself for needing to do so.*

*I notice Trix’s pacing, but don’t react much more than simply looking up to watch her silently, my music still on.  My expression is as empty and emotionless as it has been for the past couple of days.*

Prettywitch: You okay, Trix? You don’t look so good.

Trix: *she just sort of whines quietly for a moment before pausing and just grabbing at her hair* Yes- yes I’m fine. Don’t worry about it- just…ah. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m the least of anyone’s problems here. *She starts to get aggravated again and begins biting at her lip enough to draw blood*

Tear: *I look up from a sketch of Wong I’ve been working on, curious over the commotion* Are you feeling claustrophobic?

*I silently put my headphones away to listen.*

Me (plainly):  You’re biting your lip.

Trix: *her eyes are wide and slightly crazed* It’s fine! It’ll heal! There are much more important things to worry about right now. Besides, it’s not that bad! You guys don’t have to worry about me at all! *she laughs slightly but it dies off awkwardly as she realizes the others are still staring at her*

Tear: You say that as if worrying is an activity that could actually accomplish something. It’s not as if us caring about you will make us unproductive.

Me (offering, though not feeling anything):  Music?  *I offer my headphones.*

Trix: *getting a bit more worked up* No no no no, if the headphones are helping you I don’t want to take that away! I’m not worth the trouble. You focus on feeling better and if you need me to do anything I can help! *mutters to herself and starts pacing again* it’s not like I’m worth doing something over anyway, I might as well keep myself useful… *she gets stuck in her own spiraling thoughts again and keeps pacing*

Me:  Mm’kay.  *I watch Trix for a while before my eyes unfocus and I stare blankly into the middle distance.*

Tear: *I tilt my head to the side, thinking* Here, I do need some help. Could you please quiz me on how to draw these transmutation circles? I can’t really do it alone.

*Trix is too lost in her thoughts to respond but sits down next to Tear and begins absent-mindedly looking through the notes* 

Prettywitch: *Taps Steward’s shoulder to get her attention while the others are distracted.* Hey. You think we should call Stephen and Wong about Trix? I know we’re all freaked out, but…I think something might seriously be wrong with her.

Me (emotionless):  How?  No cell signal below all of the rock and any spellcasting won’t make it past the wards.

Prettywitch: Oh. Right. *She places her chin in her hand to think.* Well, what if we tried telepathy? That’s gotta work.

Me:  I guess.  We haven’t touched it much yet, but it’s worth a shot.  *I shrug*

Prettywitch: Awesome! Okay, let me try. *She places her fingers on her temples and starts rubbing them.* Stephen Strange! Stephen Strange! Portal to girls! Portal to girls!

Trix: *she starts flinching uncontrollably and grips her head as her thoughts begin to spiral even more. She drops Tear’s notes and shoots back to her feet to get some distance between them. She leans up against the wall and slides down it as she begins to hyperventilate* I don’t even know why everyone is even bothering! *she laughs and begins to rock back and forth* I’m not worth it! I’m the weak link! You would all be further along and safer without me here! I just happened to stumble into all of this because I happened to see Stephen back at the house originally like a creeper! Now you all have to deal with me! *she is becoming more and more unhinged as she is falling deeper into a pit of depression and anxiety*

Me (slowly starting to return to reality):  Trix…?  N-No, it’s not like that.  You’re fine.  We’ve all got strengths and weaknesses.  *I’m finally starting to look concerned.*

Tear: *I put my work aside and stand up but don’t crowd Trix. I’m clearly alarmed now, but I keep my stance and tone kind* I know impostor syndrome can feel overwhelming sometimes. We’ve all been there. What brought these thoughts up right now?

*Meanwhile, PrettyWitch doesn’t feel or hear any answer.  It’s uncertain if the message went through or not.*

Trix: *her eyes are almost glazed over at this point* It’s always been the truth! I’ve just been a coward No- I refuse to bring you all down with me. You’re going to save the universe! I’m just going to faint when I see a book or go anywhere outside! The last things that I love I can’t even do anymore! I can’t do this anymore! *she scrambles to her feet* Agatha probably isn’t even coming anymore and this is just a test to see if we can handle ourselves like this! Well, surprise surprise: I failed again! I give up! I’m done! *she marches over to the door and begins to open it*

Me (snapping back to paying full attention):  Whoa whoa!  Wait.  WAIT.  *I get up quickly to try and stop her.*

PrettyWitch: Trix, don’t!

Tear: Trix, you’re not yourself! *I jerk her arm back from the doorknob and attempt to drag her away from the door, but an unexpected scratch to the cheek makes me instinctually drop my grip on her*

Trix: *she yanks open the door and it’s almost like opening a door outside in negative degree weather in her brain. An absolute cacophony of noise of hundreds of voices crashes into her mind and she doesn’t have her mental barriers up, too wound up from both her own thoughts and the onslaught of negative thoughts and intentions that have been weaving themselves into her head. Trix’s eyes roll back into her head as she collapses but disappears into a cloud of purple smoke before she hits the ground.*

Prettywitch: *She starts running towards Trix.* You wanna get killed!? Get back in here, you boob!

*I’m at the threshold of the door and dive over to try and catch Trix, but her body disappears into purple smoke.  I fall flat on my face, through the smoke, and am stunned for a half second. All around us, the dainty ringing of bells signals the breaking of a seal.*  

Me (realizing what just happened):  Oh God…*I look back at the outer walls of the room.  The wards are gone, having been broken by the opening of the door.*  

Tear: Wong’s spell… *I pale to a ghostly white in horror, still holding a hand to my stinging cheek*

PrettyWitch: *She takes a deep breath, trying not to panic.* Fuck! We’re boned, aren’t we?

Me:  She knows where we are…and the wards are broken…She has Trix…I’d say yes.  *I have a big “well, fuck!” expression plastered across my face.*

Prettywitch: So what do you think we should do? 

Me (grim):  Head up, I suppose.  That’s the only place we have backup.  Agatha will need Trix alive to really get any info, I’m sure.  So, if we can get to Stephen and Wong in time, we can figure out a way to get her back.

Tear: Wait. Wong and probably even Stephen must have been alerted when the spell broke. If they make their way down here and we move to look for them, we might end up missing each other.

Me:  Though it also took a long time to get down here in the first place.  If Agatha wants to snag or kill another one of us, she could very well have plenty of time to do it.  More if she messed with the hallways.  If we stay put, we’re sitting ducks.  If we leave, we might run into each other or at least be less of an easy target.  Dead if we do, dead if we don’t.  Might as well try to find them.

Prettywitch: *Smirks at Steward.* You took the words right out of my mouth. Alright, let’s go! *She runs out of the room.*

*We follow PrettyWitch.  There are already several corridors that open up to our chamber, each just as dark and foreboding.  Compared to our brightly-lit area, the hallways are pitch-black.*

Me:  Crap…Do we remember which way?

Tear: It’s been over a week! And these corridors definitely looked different when they were lit up on our way down.

Prettywitch: I think we take a right first? I can’t remember. 

Tear: That is if Agatha really hasn’t been able to overcome Kamar-Taj’s magic…

Me:  True.  Though with all of the sorcerers here, plus the Sorcerer Supreme AND the ex-Sorcerer Supreme, maybe that part is less likely.  She probably had to sneak in and probe through.  Let’s put it to a vote.  Everyone point at which way to go on the count of three.  One.  Two.  Three!

*We choose our respective corridors.  Two out of the three of us chose the northeast corridor.*

Me:  Guess it’s that way…Are we all comfortable with this?

Prettywitch: Yeah.

Tear: I don’t think we have much of a choice, anyway.

*We head into the dark hallway.  It’s cold and damp like a cave.  Since we’re still novices, we end up using our cell phone lights to shine a path.*

Tear: This is really bringing back bad memories, oh lord. *I hunch over slightly, tense as flashbacks of the mine Steward, Stephen and I visited come rushing back to the forefront of my thoughts*

Me (grim):  Yep…Everyone stay close and be careful, okay?  *I get in front of us protectively.*

*Meanwhile, at the surface, Stephen and Wong have detected the wards’ failures and rush to re-enter the basement.  However, they’re stopped by a handful of frenzied guards.*

Guard (staring wide-eyed at the two of them):  CONTACT!  TO YOUR STATIONS!  GO!  GO!  GO!

*He starts casting offensive spells at them.  Both sorcerers immediately put up their shields at the escalating barrage of trigger-happy guards.  Their eyes are wide and glazed over, indicating that they’re in the throes of panic.*

Wong:  Snap out of it!  *He barks as he telekinetically slams one of them against a pillar to stun them, hoping the sudden jolt will wake them up from whatever spell Agatha has them under.*

Stephen (snarky, but rushed):  I don’t think they’re going to have a breakthrough anytime soon!

*There’s a cackle of laughter before Agatha appears in a cloud of smoke between Stephen and Wong*

Agatha: Come on, they’re just doing their jobs! Clearly I am a very serious threat and have impersonated you to try and sneak down to where you have the girls! *she grins*

*Wong grunts as a particularly powerful group of spells gets barely deflected by his shields.  The guards are clearly not holding back.  Stephen ends up having to intervene and portals one of them on top of the others.*

Agatha: If anything you should be proud they’re trained so well and following your initial orders! You sorcerers are always so loyal *she sneers before disappearing again, reappearing behind the group of crazed sorcerers*

*While the group is untangling themselves after landing on each other, Stephen attempts to ensnare Agatha using the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak.  No time for banter.  He has novices to protect.*

*Agatha disappears into smoke as the bands hit where she just was. She reappears a couple feet to the right with a mocking shocked look*

Agatha: Wow, so rude. I’ve always heard you were a great conversationalist but I guess mama bear has to go protect his cubs. Too bad you’re already missing one. *she laughs again and disappears a final time, the smoke trailing into the entrance of the caves*

*Wong and Stephen exchange a stony look of dread and rush into the caves to find us.*

*Meanwhile, Tear, Prettywitch, and I are fumbling through the dark with no idea where to go when a cackle cuts through the darkness.*

Agatha’s voice: You know, your mama bear would have hid you better if he didn’t make a dead spot for me to find. Almost like an X marking the spot. *she sounds amused and her voice is echoing around them, not coming from any particular spot* For baby magic users, you’re certainly interesting, especially being adopted by Camp Sorcerer and the Avengers right away. You would have loved me as a teacher! In fact, let’s start with lesson one: How to survive. 

*The hallway we’re in rumbles and it begins to shift like a Rubik’s cube. We fall against each other and onto the new “floor.”*

Me (landing roughly):  OOF.

Prettywitch: Well, that’s just great! Now what are we gonna do!?

Tear: If she’s really powerful enough to be altering reality outside of the Mirror Dimension, then I don’t think there’s much we can do.

Agatha’s Voice: Y’know, I’ve never had acolytes before. I haven’t even been in a coven in ages. If you agree to tell me what you know, I’ll teach you everything that I know. Fair’s fair, ladies!

Me (angry):  Unless you return our version of Trix to us healthy, alive, and sane; that’ll only be in your dreams!

*A cloud of purple smoke appears directly in front of me and I’m suddenly staring into Agatha’s amused face.*

Agatha: No can do, sweetums. I can’t promise that because unfortunately she’s already broken. It’s why I wouldn’t mind a new gal pal or two. My new toy isn’t in mint condition anymore, but I suppose that’s my own fault. *she glides backwards into the darkness* Those wards were pesky to get through, and I had to use a bit more power than normal. Bad things tend to happen when you overpower a spell… *she visibly disappears but is still lingering in the hallway*

PrettyWitch: Jesus Christ, does she ever shut up!?

Tear: Even if she’s not bluffing, why do villains always think we’ll believe anything they say?

*I angrily throw a rock in Agatha’s direction.  Seeing as we’re not strong enough to continuously use magic yet, it’s the best I can do at long range.  Admittedly, I’m also just angry at this point.*

Agatha’s Voice: It’s entirely up to you whether you believe me or not. Not my funeral. Although if you don’t want to hear me talk anymore, I have plenty else to keep you busy.

*As she speaks, multiple pillars of purple smoke begin to form and begins to reveal classic horror movie monsters such as Frankenstein, Dracula, and The Mummy*

Agatha’s Voice: You’ll have to forgive me but I’m still in a bit of a TV mood from Westview before you meddling kids decided to send the wizard cops on me. *she sounds genuinely grumpy*

Me (raising an eyebrow):  Really?  I’ve seen scarier episodes of Scooby-Doo…*I scoff, unimpressed.*

Tear: *I quickly move my hands up to cover my mouth and nose* Ugh, she could have done without the smell though.

Agatha’s Voice: Sounds like you have it handled then. *She sounds amused and absolutely knows something the girls don’t* I have to go for now but I’ll check in with you ladies later. Hopefully your corpses keep the latent magical energy signature to study… *her presence seems to disappear but the three monsters begin to advance on the girls*

*Agatha’s tone raises some alarm bells in my mind.*

Me (quickly):  …We should choose another way.  Now.

Tear: What way? We are literally standing on the ceiling!

PrettyWitch: I don’t know! Let’s go back and take a left! 

*As we turn to race back down the corridor, we’re stopped by Dracula blocking the way.*

Me:  Crap…Wait a minute…*I grin widely for a second.*  Bye-bye!~

*I open a portal and move it to sweep up Frankenstein and the Mummy, dropping them out in the middle of the Mojave Desert before closing.  Though that large, mobile portal cast took a lot out of me.  Now, I have to take some time to recover before I can do anything like that again.  So, now there’s Agatha’s version of Dracula in all of his cheesy, cartoonish glory.*

Dracula (dramatic):  I VANT BLOOD!

Tear: Is this supposed to be scary? It feels like this bat is just offensive…

Prettywitch: *Her eyes widen.* Wait, is it…?

Me:  Don’t make eye contact, guys!  Hypnosis!

*The vampire turns into a bat and attempts to dive at me.  I duck, unable to use any magic at the moment.*

Tear: Quick, close your eyes! *I quickly perform one of the many spellcasting motions Wong first taught us. The golden spell thrums with energy in front of me before it releases a blinding flash of real sunlight. I’m unable to sustain it for long, but I hope it was enough against the cartoon villain.*

*Prettywitch and I shut our eyes as soon as Tear warns us. The bat screeches in agony as the light causes it to begin to burn and smoke.  It rapidly bursts into flames before falling into a pile of ashes.*

*Meanwhile, Stephen and Wong have descended into the next few levels of the Kamar-Taj dungeons.  The corridors are shifting and they know it.  Stephen orders Kamar-Taj to keep the remaining girls safely away from Agatha.*

*Agatha is still lurking around the labyrinth, however, she gets more and more frustrated as even her shadows are having trouble making it through the constantly shifting paths. Ever since the wards dropped it had been a free-for-all and while she isn’t tired, Agatha is getting more frustrated at being thwarted by essentially a home alert system. She recalls her shadows in order to track down at least one of the girls.*

Wong (low voice, to Stephen):  Stay alert, I sense Harkness’ presence.

*Stephen nods in acknowledgement, orbs of magical light drifting around the pair to keep the corridor illuminated as they descend.*

*It’s faint at first, but purple smoke begins to roll down the floor of the halls the deeper they go into the corridors. The air becomes more oppressive and heavy while the two sorcerers get the feeling they’re being watched*

Agatha’s Voice: Y’know, we can all walk away from this peacefully without getting hurt if I’m allowed out of here. No tricks, no mess.

*As she talks, Agatha emerges from the shadows with her arms outstretched in a ‘what can you do’ motion and a cocky smile on her face.*

Stephen (growling):  As if you’d keep your word.  You took a hostage.  *He glares at her, poised for a fight if needed.*

Agatha (trying not to laugh): And she’s physically unharmed! I just need a little insurance to get out of here and my own little baby sorcerer to learn about. Her magic and her friends are so…delicious. I just can’t help but want to know more. *she grins* Call it a favor for preventing me from stopping the rise of the Scarlet Witch. 

*Wong steps forward, keeping his cool.*

Wong:  You know as well as we do that the Scarlet Witch is a multiverse-level threat.  *While Wong is talking, Stephen subtly attempts to scan the area for any traces of one of the girls in an abnormal location.*

Agatha (scoffing): And you goodie-two-shoes sorcerers wouldn’t have had to deal with her if I was just allowed to take care of it myself. Wanda Maximoff is a ticking time bomb of PTSD and magic. She was isolated and I was working on it but nooooo. *she makes a disgusted face at the men*

Stephen (dripping with sarcasm, knowing how it would have played out):  Sure.  You had it handled…

*She turns to him, her mood flipping like a switch so she’s serious once more*

Agatha: See, that’s the interesting thing. You weren’t supposed to know what was going on. You got a sneak peek at the spoilers with no Time Stone. It just so happens that four baby sorcerers with no history here happen to appear out of nowhere after the Sorcerer Supreme in training had disappeared? Oh, that is an absolute gold mine and honey. I am feeling like a settler in 1850’s California.

*While Agatha monologues, Stephen feels something faint, but familiar.  One of the girls is here.  Somewhere…Stephen glares at her, seemingly looking up and down her person suspiciously.*

Agatha (coy): Why Doctor Strange, at least ask a lady to dinner first! *She then frowns* Since it looks like we aren’t going to do this the easy way, let’s do this the hard way!

*She gathers two orbs of purple smokey magic and fires them at the sorcerers and almost seems to flood the hallway with energy before she launches forward to attack.*

*Deeper in the tunnels, we hear the rumbling of the dungeon again and suddenly the entire corridor lurches; twisting, bending, rising, falling, closing, and opening in several directions.  In the flurry, Tear, Prettywitch, and I get separated from each other.  It feels like we’re falling back down into the abyss.  Despite the event only lasting a few seconds, it feels like it will never stop.  Then, as suddenly as it begins, it stops.  It’s silent and the hallways look as though absolutely nothing happened.  Yet, there we are, lost and alone in the dark.*

*Prettywitch is surrounded by pitch-black with no sounds or signs of her friends.  She was knocked over while the corridor shifted.  So, she can at least feel the cold, hard floor underneath her.*

Prettywitch: Where am I…? *She looks around to see if she can see anything else. Nothing. Just pitch, dark blackness as far as her eyes can see. She sighs and gets up.* Well, let’s see if I can find an exit.

*She gets up and decides to create some light. She thrusts out her hand and thinks of conjuring a small, fluorescent orb to hold in her hand. It works, though just barely.*

Prettywitch: *She raised an eyebrow.* Hmmm…Close enough, I guess.

*There is a faint sound, barely audible.  It seems to be coming from just out of range of the light.  It’s too hard to make it out.*

Prettywitch: *She turns.* Who’s there? *She thrusts the ball up in the direction she heard the sound coming from. Nothing. She pouts.* Okay, this is starting to get annoying! *She sighs.* Why can’t I magic a deck of Clow Cards and a wand into my hand!? That’d be so much better, right now!

*The sound is back, slightly louder, but muffled.  It’s still soft so she has to strain to listen. It seems to be coming from the left-hand corridor.  The sound appears to be a male voice.  Maybe Stephen or Wong?  It’s hard to say.*

Voice (muffled and distant):  Girls!  Girls!

Prettywitch: *She gasps* Wong!? Stephen!? Is that you? *She moves forward, cautiously.*

*It goes quiet again for a moment.  Then, she hears it again, very slightly clearer.*

Voice:  Help!

*She jumps, scared at the voice. She catches her breath and moves forward slightly, again.*

Voice (just beyond her sight):  Please.  Come here.

*She’s still not convinced.*

Prettywitch: Not until you tell me who you are.

Voice:  Show me your face.  Are you the witch?  *As she listens more, there is something “off” about it.*

Prettywitch: What do you mean?

Voice:  It is dangerous here.  Step forth and reveal yourself, mage.

Prettywitch: *She remains firm in her resolve.* Not until you tell me who you are!

Voice (weakening):  Please…*It sounds almost like one of the men in pain.*

Prettywitch: *She rolls her eyes. Clearly, this was getting her nowhere. So, she slowly walks a little bit closer, hoping to see something but prepping herself to run. Just in case.*

*There is a faint, alluring glow at the end of the corridor.  It’s…compellingly interesting.*

*She decides to take one final step forward. If she likes what she sees? Great! If not…? Well, she’ll cross that bridge when she gets there. She holds the ball up higher to get a better view.*

*The glow of her ball seems to diminish the tantalizing glow of whatever is at the end of the corridor.  Somehow, it seems to want her to keep moving forward.  What could be there?  The curiosity is starting to play on her mind.*

Prettywitch: *Shakes her head.* Yeah, I’m running. *She starts running the other way.*

*She runs, but it doesn’t seem like she’s going anywhere.  The floor seems to move with her, attempting to drag her towards the even-more compelling and intensifying glow behind her.*

Prettywitch: *Whines terrified.* What do I do!!!!? Why can’t I just have a magic staff or something…Hey, wait a minute. That’s it! *She gets up, wobbling a bit from the force of the floor moving, and presses her hands together to create a magic weapon. Her weapon? The bird wand from Cardcaptor Sakura. She gets starry-eyed.* Hey, it worked! *Until she notices one of the wings is fading in and out like a blinking light.* Sort of. Oh, whatever! *Next, she creates a magic construct in the form of a Clow Card; The Light Card, specifically. She twirls the wand in her hand and holds the card out with the other.* Reveal to me the path that will take me to my salvation! Light! *She taps the card and it activates. Unlike the anime & manga, where it takes the form of a beautiful woman in white, it merely creates a ray that shows her which way to go. She smiles.* Thank you! *She starts to run in that direction.*

*Prettywitch breaks free of the moving floor by changing direction quickly.  After the adrenaline rush wears off, she feels exhaustion hit her like a wall.  Her limbs feel like they’re made of wet cement and the ray of light begins to fade.  It takes a massive amount of concentration to keep it visible.  She has exhausted her magical energy with such a strong cast.  Though it was commendable for a novice.*

Prettywitch: *She stops to catch her breath.* Curse me for a novice…I forgot I’m not used to exerting this much energy. Oh wait…I am a novice!... *She looks up at the road ahead of her.* Well, the light was clearly pointing me in that direction, so I’ll just keep heading that way. *She takes one, long stride forward…only to nearly fall over from exhaustion.* You know what? I’ll just walk the rest of the way. *She begins walking in the direction the light told her to go.*

*Meanwhile, somewhere else within the labyrinth, I get back up after being sent tumbling down a short staircase.*

Me (grumbling):  Ow…

*I listen for the others and attempt to look around.  It’s silent and pitch-black.*

Me (grumpily):  Wonderful…

*I turn the light on my phone for now to save magical energy in case I need it and pick a direction to go.  I stick to the right wall to follow so I can at least orient myself that way.  In the chaos, I dropped my spiritual shield.  Yet, the clingy ghost who follows me doesn’t snark at me the way he usually does.  It’s more or a stony silence on my end, but the ghost seems…resigned.*

Ghost:  Look, could you please talk to me or even look at me again?  I feel like I’m back to being completely invisible.

*I ignore him.*

Ghost:  I’m sorry, okay?  I’m a huge dick!  I was bored!

Me (bitter):  Are you, though?  *Referring to his apology.  Words are cheap, after all.  He didn’t seem sincere to me.*

Ghost:  What do you want from me, woman?!

Me:  I don’t want anything from you.  Just leave me alone.

*He sighs*

Ghost:  You know damn well that I can’t at this point.  I bound myself to you.  Look, if you don’t get out of here, we’ll be stuck together forever.  Can we call it a truce?

Me:  Fine…

Ghost:  …Do you wanna at least learn my name?

Me: Don’t push it.  *I sigh, knowing I should at least try to be diplomatic*  Fine.  What’s your name?

Ghost:  Barry.  

Me (neutral):  Cool.  So, any ideas?

Barry:  Well, the traps down here and that witch can’t exactly kill me, right?  Lemme scout ahead and warn you about anything coming up.

Me:  Mm’kay…

*I don’t completely trust him, but he’s been around me long enough.  That and I did notice he never actually tried to possess me.  He seemed to threaten it before, but when I think about it, that was probably just his idea of a crappy joke.  Barry glides ahead, fading into the darkness.  I continue to follow the corridor.*

Voice: Help me!

*I look towards the voice, straining to figure out who it is.  For now, I stay silent, paranoid that Agatha might be disguised or trying to lure me.  So, I freeze and stay quiet.  After a moment, I whisper quietly.*

Me (whispering):  Barry, are you back?  Who or what is that?

Voice: Help me!

Voice: No! Help me!

*I don’t recognize the voice and cautiously inch away from it, getting more paranoid.*

Voice: What’s the matter?

Voice: Scared?

Voice: Stop it!

Voice: No! You stop it!

*I get a weird look and turn to move the opposite direction of the voices.  Arguing or not, I’m not touching this.*

Voice: Stop it!

Voice: You have to!

Voice: No. Run!

Voice: What’s the matter?

Voice: I can’t take this!

*There are now hundreds and hundreds of voices I can hear. Some are benevolent, others sadistic, and some just sound crazy. It doesn’t really matter though. They’re all starting to overlap into one, unending ball of sounds.*

Me:  Sorry, Barry.  *I raise my spiritual barrier and concentrate as hard as I can to try and block the tide of voices as I run away from wherever the voices seem to be coming from.  Though it feels like my brain is filling with static from the cacophony.*

*I can still hear the voices. They seem to not only be following me, but getting louder, too. Like they’re in my ear. At least that’s what it feels like.*

*I’m starting to get a headache and know it’ll get worse if this keeps up.  This is driving me crazy and I can barely hear myself think.  So, I stop and whirl around towards the voices.*

Me:  FINE.  What do you all want?!  I’m just trying to find my friends and get out of here.  I’ll be out of your business in a short while if you either help me or leave me alone!  Otherwise, do we really wanna deal with each other for all of eternity, huh?!  Well?  Can we talk this out like civilized entities or not?

*There’s no talking for a moment or two. Then the voices start talking again, this time they’re all saying different expressions that amount to, “Okay.” *

Me (calming slightly):  Okay.  Good.  Since the corridors keep shifting, I’m trying to get my bearings well enough to move in a specific direction.  Do any of you know which way two other women my age went?  There is also an older woman, a witch, named Agatha Harkness trying to kill us.  She kidnapped our fourth friend and we don’t know where she put her.  Lastly, we tried to call Wong and Stephen to help us, but none of us know if they’re down here.  We’re all trying to find each other, capture Agatha, and get our friend back.  If we succeed, we won’t have to be down here any longer and we’ll be out of your hair, provided the witch hasn’t hidden our friend in here.

*The apparitions all start talking again, simultaneously…answering all of her questions at once.*

*I cringe in pain.*

Me (rubbing my temples):  Maybe one at a time.  I can’t make anything out.  If you guys have a leader or chosen representative, can I please talk to them?

*The apparitions answer, “Yes,” all at once.*

Me (cringing slightly again at the noise):  Okay.  I’m listening.  *I’m being polite since they seem cooperative.*

Representative: Yes. What would you like to know?

Me:  Which way are my friends located so I can go the right direction?

Representative: Ah, yes. Your friends should be located just west of this wing.

Me:  Thank you.  Did you happen to see where Agatha Harkness took our kidnapped friend?

Representative: Your friend is with Agatha.

Me:  Crud…Okay.  Last question so I don’t bother you too much.  Are Stephen and Wong down here too?  I’ll let you be after this question.  *I’m being polite to avoid bothering them.*

Representative: Yes. They are on the top level of Kamar-Taj’s tunnels, battling the witch Agatha as we speak.

Me:  Okay.  Well, thank you.  I’ll leave you alone now.  *I nod and attempt to head west.  I’m still a bit suspicious of them, but will proceed cautiously.*

*After a minute or two of walking away, I hear a more familiar voice.*

Barry (tinged with sarcasm):  Kudos on actually negotiating with people instead of jumping straight to the offensive, I guess.  *Raising an eyebrow*  By the way, you know you’re not going west, right?  Jesus, how did you manage to survive this long anyway?  

*He’s grumbling, but attempting to be helpful in his own way.  Barry directs me west, drifting at his usual position just behind my shoulder.  He knows that hovering so close annoys me.  At this point, I let him, attempting to get along with him since he’s actually being helpful instead of trying to troll me or pick another fight.  I change direction to properly head west.*

Me:  So…The Nirvana t-shirt…You like them?

Barry (humoring me):  Yeah.  Kurt Cobain is a genius!

Me (uneasy):  Erm…Was…

Barry:  What?!  

*We converse as we travel.  I have to gently break the news to him and we discuss the late musician’s memory as well as major historical events since the 1990’s.  Seeing as we’ve been stuck together for weeks and he has seen what we’ve all recently been through, despite his many arguments with me, we finally inch closer to a mutual understanding.  Although we don’t exactly see eye to eye with each other, we’ve at least agreed to converse with one another and try to be more empathetic.  It’s a step in the right direction.  A subtle, but nice thing I notice is that he’s giving me personal space after our chat.*

*Tear finds herself alone in the dark, having been separated from the group.  She has landed hard on the ground and it’s pitch-black.  There are no traces of anyone else around her.*

Tear: Oookay, this is getting scary… *I use my phone’s torchlight to illuminate the tunnel. I feel so close to building a shrine to Tony, Stephen, and Peter for having updated our tech to work in their universe* Steward? PrettyWitch? Are you guys there? *I whisper loudly, not really confident to call outloud in case I end up attracting anything other than my friends. I try my best to look down at both ends of the hallway, but there’s not even a breeze to help me choose which way to head toward.*

___

*I hear different sets of footsteps approaching and freeze, anticipating a potential trap.  While silently watching, I see a dim light in the distance down the corridor.  It seems to be getting bigger and bigger.  I stay in the shadows just in case.*

Prettywitch: Steward!? Is that you? - Wait! Just so I know, tell me something about me only you would know.

Me (emerging quietly from my patch of shadows):  First off, I think we may be in a deadlock.  How do I know you’re not just trying to get info from me about my friends?  

*I’m staying neutral in every aspect in an attempt to conceal details in case this is a disguised enemy.  Meanwhile, my eyes never leave her, watching carefully.*

Prettywitch: *She considers this.* Fair point. In that case, let me tell you about how I got out of the trap I was in; I basically conjured up the staff from Cardcaptor Sakura and made a construct of the Light Card…Does that sound like something I would do? *She smiles awkwardly, mostly because she’s afraid Steward won’t believe her.*

*I think for a moment.*

Me:  Okay…Sounds like you.  

Barry:  That IS Prettywitch, o Paranoid One.  *He’s still a smartass, but a helpful one, at least.*

*I give him a look.*

Me:  If you’re sure…Okay.  *I relax slightly.*  I’m glad you’re alive and made it here, Prettywitch.  I ended up swarmed by spirits and thankfully, they were just guarding the place.  So, I was able to talk them down and ask for directions.

Prettywitch: *Breathes a sigh of relief.* Thank Vishanti! Have you run into Tear, by any chance?

Me:  Not yet, unfortunately.  We should look for her.

Prettywitch: Well what are we waiting for? Let’s go. *Turns to face the hall for a moment, then looks back at Steward.* You know the way by any chance?

Me:  Unfortunately, not.

Barry:  Maybe go back and ask again.

Me:  I’ve bothered that group of spirits enough, I think.

Barry:  You forgot the way back to them already, didn’t you?

*I glare at him silently, though he IS right.*

Prettywitch: Well, let’s just go along the paths and use markers. That way, we know which halls we’ve gone down.

Me:  Good idea.  Want to pick a passage to start at?

Prettywitch: Okay. Let’s go….*She points to the right.* that way! *She magics a black marker into her hand and draws the Sanctum window on the wall.  She puts the cap back on the marker and smiles at her handiwork.* There! That should work.

*There is a faint, disagreeable rumble through the complex’s tunnels, but nothing shifts.  It feels almost like the building is displeased with something.*

Me (looking around nervously):  Erm…Let’s go.

Prettywitch: Good idea.

*The trio make their way down the right corridor.*

*Sooner than expected, we spot Tear heading down one of the other hallways and call out to her, hoping that it’s the real her and not a fake.*

Me (stern, but hopeful):  Okay.  Show us that it’s really you, Tear…Qilong.  *I say the name at the end to indicate to her that it’s really me.  Qilong was the name of the deceased miner whose log we found at the bottom of the mine all of those months ago with Stephen.*

Tear: *I brighten up, immediately recognizing the reason why Steward would even think of that name. Reassured, I don’t hesitate to show my own proof.* Okay, so… When people think “tanks” they will most often think about the classic German Panzers or the cute little Somua S35, which was actually one of the best by 1940. But most won’t remember that it was actually the English who begun experimenting with the idea of tanks back in the Great War as a way to combat trench warfare. In fact, they were first designed in 1915 but were first deployed until 1916 during the Battle of the Somme when…

Prettywitch: *She looks at Steward.* Yeah, it’s her.

Tear: *I’m panting slightly by the end of my eager rant* I don’t think Agatha would have much need to know all of that as a witch, right?

Me (curling my lip, mildly amused):  No.

*We all chuckle slightly and can’t help but relax.*

Me:  Thank goodness…Okay, let’s get out of here.  Stephen and Wong are probably looking for us by now.

Tear: So you guys haven’t heard from them either? I was hoping Kamar-Taj had been attempting to bring us closer to them…

*I shake my head.*

Prettywitch: Well, we’re just gonna have to keep going. We’ll find our way back…eventually.

Me:  Think we should mark this location as an indicator of our path?

Prettywitch: You know it! *She gets out the marker again and draws the Sanctum window, again.* Alright, let’s go!

*There’s the irritable rumble again, but no shift.*

Me (unnerved):  Erm…Maybe Kamar-Taj doesn’t like it…

Prettywitch: *She shrugs.* Eh! We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Tear: Or maybe Agatha could still be trying to control it? Can buildings feel pain?

Me:  Honestly, I have no idea.  Which way should we go, then?  *I’m getting worried again.*

Prettywitch: Well, we went right before…let’s go left, this time.

*We continue on our way, speeding up a bit.  After all, we do need to alert the more experienced sorcerers and get help to rescue Trix.*

*All of a sudden, a blur of purple seems to whiz forward from the darkness of the hallway in front of us and it materializes to reveal, Agatha who is first shocked but then delighted to have run into us.*

Agatha: Well, well, well! What a sight for sore and slightly battered eyes. Some baby sorcerers who wouldn’t disobey mom and sneak out from being grounded!

Me (snarling):  Says the traitor to her own coven!  *At this point, seeing her has re-ignited my anger.*

Prettywitch: *Groans* Oh great! The crazy lady’s back. Hallelujah!

Agatha (raising an eyebrow): Wow, did this place fuck you up too or are you just happy to see me? *her hands ignite with smokey purple magic* If you want to find out firsthand what happened to them, keep talking.

*I look about ready to explode, but then we hear more running footsteps approaching.  Stephen and Wong burst into the corridor and look shocked to see us there.  Stephen notices that Agatha is about to curse me and is about ready to cast a protective shield in front of us.*

Stephen (glancing at us and then Agatha):  How did you get-?  Never mind!  Girls, get back!  

Agatha: Didn’t you hear? Your ducklings left the nest directly into my waiting arms. It’s not like we’re not familiar at this point. *She sneers at the girls* 

*I glare icily right back at the witch.  The tension is palpable.*

*Agatha’s necklace starts to glow faintly, immediately catching her attention and her face pales. It is flickering between dark purple, light purple, and hints of orange*

Agatha (cooing to it): Now now, that’s a bit too much excitement for you today. I’m going to make sure we get home. *She pats it and the flickers fade away*

*Stephen notices and turns pale, knowingly.*

Me (quietly):  Trix…

*Agatha looks smugly at Stephen*

Agatha: Now then: you have your children to attend to and now I have mine. Though, that could easily change if you decide to follow me *she lifts the crystal of the necklace slightly* so if you don’t mind, toodle-loo! *she disappears into a cloud of purple smoke and peals of laughter before finally vanishing*

Tear: No, Trix!

Me (practically spitting in fury):  That bitch…

Prettywitch: Let’s go after her! We can probably trace her magic trail or something.

Wong (protectively):  No.  You three have been in enough danger as it is.  How in the multiverse did any of you make it this far out of the labyrinth?

Prettywitch: Magic Sharpie…*She smiles awkwardly at Wong.* Anyway, the point is, we’ve got bigger fish to fry than me graffiting the walls.

*Kamar-Taj makes a low, disgruntled noise.  Wong raises an eyebrow, biting back a sharp reprimand.  However, they have more pressing matters at the moment.*

Stephen:  We can’t follow her.  Our own magical signatures are too obvious.  She would shatter Trix’s crystal before we got anywhere remotely close to them.  If Agatha shatters it, Trix dies.   

Prettywitch: Okay. Then what do you propose we do?

Me:  How would we evade detection?

Stephen:  I’m sorry, “we”? Haven’t the three of you gotten in enough trouble?  *He’s trying to keep us safe, his eyes flashing a warning at our group.*

Prettywitch: *Now she’s angry.* Don’t get snippy with us! We want to help our friend.

Tear: *I throw my arms out in disbelief* You say that as if we sought out Agatha and delivered an RSVP for Kamar-Taj. We sat there, stuck in that room, for one week! *I stomp my foot and point back at the dark hallways. My voice starts raising, even if I never thought I’d dare to stand against Stephen and Wong of all people* We did everything you asked, and that woman still found us. How are we at fault for that? How is Trix at fault for that? *My voice breaks at the thought of Trix and my eyes quickly well up, but I swallow thickly and refuse to think about what she could be going through*

*I glare at Stephen in a deadly silence.*

*Stephen huffs frustratedly.*  

Stephen:  *Angrily*  I know!  *He immediately regrets his outburst and calms down again, being sincere in his words.*  I’m sorry.  However, we’re not about to let more of you endanger yourselves further.

Me (adamantly staring the two masters down):  Don’t think we’re just going to keep sitting here.  *My tone is icy, a cold rage blatantly obvious.*

*Stephen and Wong stare us all down for a moment and when none of us backs off, Wong sighs.*

Wong:  Fine…but if you are going to do this, then you will do so correctly to avoid further harm.  *He’s stern.*

Stephen:  We’ll have to report this to the other Avengers first.  Come on.  *He ushers us over so he can portal everyone to the Campus.*

***To be continued***

[madaboutmunson]

WIP Wednesday

Here is a treat as I haven’t posted something in forever.

[captions welcome]

I went for:

“Eddie doesn’t like the show and he’s gonna make it a problem!”

Other things:

I’m working on a lot of different events and projects right now. I’m still writing a fic that turned into a bit of a beast, but once it’s finished I’ll be posting chapters on a more regular basis for it.

So here is a snippet from that mini beast

ITICHBS (it’s a secret 🤫 😂)

rockstarSteve x photographerEddie

Eddie goes to type back, but he feels the car slow to a stop. A crunch of gravel and muffled voices. Moments later, his door is opened.

"Mr Munson?" The woman asks as Eddie steps out and nods. The car is swarmed by athletic people sporting black security uniforms.

The woman in front of him makes eye contact with her team members and then looks back at him, "Your agent said you were staying?"

"I-I am. Just not here." Eddie says nervously. He was supposed to be, that's what Marney had advised, but Eddie had dug his heels in and got an airport hotel instead, at his own expense, "I'm so bad at waking up for flights, so," he scratches the back of his neck, "the closer, the better."

She folds her arms and levels him with a look before scanning him up and down. "You don't want to spend the night? Stay in Steve Harrington's house?" She almost laughs out the last question.

Eddie figures it's something ingrained in him that is making him nervous with all these official-looking uniforms around him, "Not if I wanna keep this job," he says with a forced laugh, looks down and rubs his stomach, "I should really learn that fast food doesn't always agree with me." He raises his eyes to her to see if his performance has landed, and though he's not sure she believes the story, she seems happy enough to accept it for some reason. She extends her hand to him.

"Buckley. Head of security here for Mr H. This is my team. Get to know their faces and names if you care to. If it's not one of us telling you, it's not mandatory." She says and waves him through the huge ornate gates that slowly open as she signals to the house.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at that. Mandatory? If it's not one of us? What did that even mean? She didn't look like your typical bodyguard or security guard that Eddie had seen over the years, but knowing he'd be meeting her at the gates, he'd done his research.

Robin Buckley. She'd only ever worked with Harrington, no one before, no one in-between. She wasn't a waif by any stretch of the imagination, but she was not your typical heavy-set build either. However, the footage Eddie had unearthed last night definitely sent the message home that she is not to be fucked with. She easily kept the crazies at bay, and Harrington's humanising posts about how safe he felt with her around, made her a fan favourite. Even though she was often the only thing standing between him and his adoring followers.

He'd seen three times caught on film she'd intercepted a weapon or projectile aimed at Harrington. One effortlessly caught out of the air, cool as anything. Then there was a guy with a gun who had been leg swept to the floor, had his wrist snapped, and was disarmed in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it display of prowess. You could see on the video Harrington hadn't seen any of it. Busy leaning back into the crowd for a selfie at the barrier with a fan's phone. Her team carried that guy away, and she just fell back into step beside him. The third was definitely the most terrifying. Mainly due to the fact, there were so many different views of the same event because it happened whilst Harrington had been singing one of his most famous songs. It looks like a fan rushes the stage, not uncommon, but as Harrington shuts his eyes to croon to the crowd under the spotlight, something catches the light in the fan's hand, and if this had been a movie, you'd swear this would be the singer's last scene. But it wasn't. From out of nowhere, Buckley's big black boot steps into the light and puts the assailant in a choke hold from behind. They were out for the count in seconds and pulled back with her into the darkness.

Hope you liked it 🥰