#Something akin to a masterpost

[bonefall]

BB!TPB Titles

Having some fun just absentmindedly thinking of titles for the BB overhauls of main arc books. I think I'm gonna do it for all of them, because I actually really like renaming these and explaining my thought process

But here's TPB for now, because it's on my mind after that little scene bundle I wrote

Below the cut;

Arc Rename: The Prophecies Begin -> The Forest Four

Into the Wild -> Into the Clans

Fire and Ice -> Thermal and Undertow

Forest of Secrets -> Forest of Flowers

Rising Storm -> Rejected Rites

A Dangerous Path -> The Hunting Trail

The Darkest Hour -> Before the Dawn

The Forest Four

It's the intro to the original four, y'know? Plus, I use this term all the time in Clan Culture entries to specify when something is different about SkyClan from the "Forest Four." Makes sense it's the arc title.

Plus, there's a bit of a thing going on, especially in the later books, where the number of the Clans comes up a lot. Three Great Clans, but only four modern ones, River and Shadow combine to make TigerClan leaving three, BloodClan would make four, LionClan's alliance leaving two...

In BB, they know about SkyClan in history lessons, but Firestar doesn't think about it much until after this arc is done. More importantly, his choice to spare Scourge at the end of the arc suddenly means there's a Forest Four, and a Town One. I just think that's interesting.

(for some reason I also just love Scourge's insult where he calls Firestar a "forest fool" lmao. four forest fools.)

Into the Clans

The book with the expanded intro to the culture of the Clans. I feel like it's more fitting for BB to not call it "into the WILD" because... well, Clan cats DON'T see themselves as ""wild"" like animals. They're in Clans, with culture. They have ranks, politics, family, and even cooking and little kitty tools. It doesn't really make sense to me that they define themselves as "wild" just because their home has nature.

To them, loners are who's "wild," y'know? Rusty isn't totally coming to the Clans because it's wild, he's coming because of the community. Friendships and bonds with cats like Ravenpaw, Graystripe, Frostfur, Spottedleaf, Bluestar, and the sense that he could belong here. That he matters to these people.

This title's the one I'm actually waffling the most on, though. I don't like it very much yet. I don't feel like it captures the feeling I'm going for. It's also really close to a field guide title.

Thermal and Undertow

I've always interpreted "Fire and Ice" to be about how differently Graystripe and Fireheart are as people, and how that starts pulling them apart. The thing that people focus on is their "reconciliation" at the end of the book, but what stands out about it to me is that this is the book where Fireheart's TRULY integrated into the Clan.

His friendship with Graystripe is strained because of the HalfClan relationship Gray gets in, and he starts looking back to his roots for comfort because he doesn't feel like he's completely part of ThunderClan. I love this irony; they're BOTH struggling with loyalty in this broken system, experiencing types of xenophobia that prevent them from having happiness, but not yet wise enough to recognize they have a similar problem.

They're both breaking the law to talk to outsiders. Their forbidden love, both familial and romantic, makes Clan life harder. They're BOTH not doing anything wrong, but the STRUCTURE of their society is setting them against each other.

Graystripe responds, eventually, by leaving. Fireheart thinks he can make a home where he is. They're both wrong. The STRUCTURE needs to be challenged.

And meanwhile, they must go to fetch WindClan after it was driven out. They have to face RiverClan AND ShadowClan when Crookedstar and Nightstar show that power acts through them, as leaders. All the while, they experience the simple truth that love for cats in other Clans makes cruel, bloodthirsty battles like these too difficult to be sustainable.

And that's just canon!! I fucking love this book!!!

So in the rename, I'm putting emphasis on the natural flow, above and below. A wind is controlled by the temperature, rising up into a warm thermal. An undertow is a ferocious current that will pull you into the cold depths. They're not so different, in the end.

Forest of Flowers

And that leads right into canon's Forest of Secrets, where we learn that the older warriors also struggled with those pressures. Fireheart and Graystripe were never alone, cats have been suffering under this cruel system for GENERATIONS.

In BB, this is where I'm dropping the flower symbolism for the three major branches of politics in Forest Four society, which persist and are expanded on for the rest of BB;

Traditionalism, represented by the Honeysuckle, is used to justify the current system. "The Clans are branches of a honeysuckle bush. We fight and strangle each other for the light, and this prunes the weakest sprigs and rewards the fittest. When the winter comes, the strongest branches ensure the survival of the bush."

He also learns, much earlier, of Tigerstar's mentor. He hears the Parable of the Thistle, a story about how a young apprentice was forced to attempt to uproot a bull thistle, only managing to spread its seeds across a clearing, and won a trip to the Cleric's den for the trouble. How Tigerstar, and others, believe the honeysuckle must be challenged.

And meanwhile, he uncovers the story of the Forget-me-nots. A friend group even stronger than his collection of allies, with cats of every Clan, and how ambition drove it apart. How Bluestar looks back at it with both silly shame and deep appreciation.

The kindling ember in Fireheart's chest as he realizes he is the heir of a Forget-me-not, and that surrounding the obvious slash across Tigerclaw's nose, are the subtle pockmarks of thistle thorns.

Rejected Rites

I feel like Rising Storm is the "weakest" book of TPB, because it's where canon's cracks begin to show.

There's still a lot I love about this book. I love the way that Bluestar's cruelty arc begins with her grace and altruism towards other Clans not being returned without a catch. I adore the rescue of Bramblekit and Yellowfang’s guilty, harrowing death insisting she deserves judgement as Fireheart insists she is a good person. Its harsh ending revealing Tigerstar as leader of ShadowClan is a gut punch in an already brutal book, making an excellent mid-arc climax

But I feel its sudden turn towards suggesting the status quo was actually good drags it down.

For example, Cloudpaw is constantly arguing with Fireheart, in ridiculous fights Fire started. He's abducted by humans and returns in the same book, suggesting his uncle was totally right all along and he Totally Promises he won't mess with humans any more. The fact Fire was projecting on his young nephew and denying him answers when he questions their way of life, in a way very similar to the shame Firepaw himself went through, is not addressed.

A lot more of this book than you remember is also dedicated to Fireheart and Sandstorm arguing because the writers think a good romance is when you hate each other but stay together anyway.

So instead, this book in BB focuses more on what I DO like; Fireheart learning to be a LEADER. He's young, inexperienced, and has acted mostly alone up to this point. The Clan is in a moment of SERIOUS tumult as it reckons with how no one saw ANY signs about Tigerclaw.

As he loses his mentor Bluestar to paranoia, he has to learn which warriors are truly trustworthy, and try to win back those whose loyalties might stray.

In this way, Rejected Rites is about the WHOLE Clan. It's Whitestorm throwing his reputation and experience behind Fireheart. It's Goldenflower and how her disgust with her ex-mate blows her mind open and she shifts into Fire's most ferocious champion. It's Mousefur deciding that Tigerclaw was a uniquely bad person and refusing to admit fault with a Clan that supported him.

And of course it's about Cloudpaw, grappling with how Fireheart insists he's his mentor, not his father, not his friend, going back to how he botches the Queen’s Rights on bringing him to the Clan. Fireheart, too, is a flawed person capable of being complicit in damaging systems.

The Hunting Trail

The dog plot barely needs a recap, it's this fandom's bread and butter. But there's a small, VERY popular misconception about; in canon, Tigerstar only uses the dogs at the END of this book with a rabbit trick. Before that, the dogs are practically a natural disaster he has nothing to do with.

There's a reason why it's misremembered. It works better if he's more involved with them the whole time, showing how DANGEROUS he is, how Bluestar's fixation on her war with StarClan is blinding her to reality, and adding to the tragedy and madness by having Swiftpaw getting wrapped up in his father's/stepfather's quest for revenge.

So in BB, Tigerstar's involved MUCH sooner. He freed the dogs.

The title change reflects that. There's a hunting trail and the cats of ThunderClan are its prey, but it doesn't specify who the predator is. In the end, it was Tigerstar's scheme all along and Bluestar sacrifices herself to save her apprentice.

(I also want to take the moment to highlight how short-sighted and impulsive Tigerstar's plans actually are, something I find fascinating about him as a character. He's malicious and intelligent enough to make some incredible schemes, taking advantage of every opportunity. But he never accounts for details like... "what if my dogs don't go right to where I want them to go?" or "what if I'm not picked as deputy after I kill Redtail?" or even "what will i do after my demons kill all the living cats?")

TigerClan is also forming earlier. It begins in THIS book. Stonefur and Mistyfoot are "detained" after leaping into the ravine to rescue Fireheart and Bluestar, it's all the "evidence" Tigerstar needed to accuse them of divided loyalty. To finally start his persecution of HalfClan cats.

Before the Dawn

...In spite of its iconic moments, I'll be honest; Darkest Hour is actually the book that makes me the angriest about the original series.

All arc long, we are shown that the Clans are flawed. They have been, long before Rusty set foot in the woods that day. It NEEDS bigotry to exist the way it does, fostering xenophobia between Clan cats so that love and friendship won't get in the way of violence, encouraging and even rewarding extreme Jingoism, and even setting clanmates against each other for these senseless problems instead of the STRUCTURE of Clan society.

Darkest Hour SLAMS the breaks on that theme, and brings the message to a screeching halt.

FIRST of all, this is the book where it's explicitly stated that StarClan "doesn't interfere," even giving them a moment where they yell at protagonist about free will or whatever while simultaneously barking a vague, ultimately useless prophecy at him. The first of many scenes like it in later arcs. It feels completely and utterly out of left field, instantly turning StarClan from a mysterious, possibly not even fully benevolent force, into THE most annoying plot device ever.

Secondly... BloodClan.

BloodClan is introduced as a TRULY EVIL group of horrible atheists who hate love and friendship, to the point of banning families, and are now here to destroy our glorious society and steal our home. They're depicted as being ruled by fear and brutality, unbound by concepts like "honor" or "loyalty." You cannot reason with them or spare their lives, the barbarians must be killed and kept out, lest they replace us.

(there is even a moment where it's implied that if the soldiers lose the war, BloodClan will come and murder the elders and children too.)

It is SO bad and SO egregious, and it's played completely unironically. It bothers me so badly I've talked about it before. Multiple times, actually

After Tigerstar gets his well-deserved grallocking like a 10-point buck, the endgame villain of TPB is a foreigner and his army. Scourge is a foil of Firestar himself, but THIS one hates the clans and doesn't worship the right god, which makes him dangerous. Firestar is textually stronger than him because of his faith in StarClan.

At the end of the day, TPB, and the rest of the series that follows, doesn't refute Tigerstar's ideology. It even agrees. Weakness IS abhorrent. Outsiders ARE to be distrusted. Split loyalties ARE detestable. It just didn't like that he challenged the status quo.

Foreigners and their leaders ARE less trustworthy and more villainous than Clan cats. Wariness and even violence towards them is necessary, "justifying" the isolationist structure of the Clans. Scourge is only the first in a very long chain; then comes Sol, One Eye, Slash, and Darktail. Even Hawkfrost and Willow Tail can fit into this pattern.

With the death of these evil, troublemaking cats, the Clans return to the status quo. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The Darkest Hour frames this like a wonderful, triumphant thing, with Firestar noting how the now-leaderless BloodClan fighters look so inferior to Clan warriors, Scourge's evil will never haunt them again (Tigerstar gets to be grieved though), and that with LionClan disbanding, they will all return to their petty bullshit squabbles.

So, BB's renaming.

I had a lot of ideas. I really liked the name "Moment of Truth" because it's the book that really brings together the theme of the arc, ending with Firestar realizing Scourge is right to distrust the Clans and that change is DESPERATELY needed, but the more I thought about it... the more I liked Before the Dawn

Reference to the phrase "The darkest hour comes before the dawn" BB is a much more optimistic story than canon, by tweaking the themes and details while following the major beats. Something is just... idk poetic? About picking the more uplifting part of the idiom. It feels right, like it's almost too perfect to go with any other title

It's a new era for the culture going foward It IS right before a "new dawn." It's the start of major changes to Clan culture, setting the events of the rest of BB into motion. The years and generations that follow are going to see major changes to the code, territory, culture, and philosophy in the universe. The choice that Firestar makes here is going to bring the Clans into a new epoch. Plus the cats are crepuscular now so I can literally have the final battle take place just before dawn because subtext is for CHUMPS

I like the idea of opening up the next arc with Dawn Just because that's really funny to me lmaoo. Something is cute about titles that reference each other. Maybe the first book of TNP could be "Dawn of the End" since the destruction of the forest starts early. Maybe add in some apocalyptic prophecies and such...

[sharkylass]

ALRIGHT, I ASKED FOREVER AGO, BUT WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT MY ISA LOOPS AU?? | [MASTERPOST]

Heads up this contains a lot, and I mean A LOT of spoilers for In Stars And Time. Including: = Act 6 spoilers, including main mystery and secret encounter = Minimal Act 5 stuff = And a bunch of extra stuff that happens through Act 3 and 4. SO BASICALLY ALMOST EVERYTHING, FINISH THIS GAME COMPLETELY BEFORE READING (ESPECIALLY THAT ACT 6 ENCOUNTER, IT WILL LITERALLY BE THE FIRST THING I MENTION UNDER THE CUT)

With all those warnings out of the way-

IN REPETITION AND CHANGE

Initial Concepts:

I feel it's important to show these sketches because they were the first ideas I ever had. I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted to make an AU at this point, I didn't even know how I'd approach it. But I started sketching and it's been on my mind since- SO! Isa is stuck in the timeloop. I know what his wish is and he DOES have a Loop equivalent! The grumpy dandelion guy is Roboro (it/they/he). Their name is a very small play on Ouroboros and they call Isa "Seedling". However, this post is not about them, as I'm gonna talk about it and Isa's dynamic in a separate post. In short, Isa is his normal loud self up until Act 3, right? They beat the King, they reach the end, and whoops, the loop isn't broken. So now, what happens is that Isa starts getting his brains out. He starts thinking more analytically and tries to problem solve.

The more stuck he gets in his head, the less he's able to perceive his friends as real people, and more like them holding him back. Because even if Isa explains that he's smart, that they shouldn't be surprised if he says something, shock of all shocks, reasonable- They'll forget it the next loop.

So Isa is stuck with trying to portray his confident, loud, supportive facade- Which is fine! It wouldn't be the first time! But it progressively gets more and more frustrating, as he tries to find answers and simply looses the energy to pretend to be stupid.

TL;DR: Isa in the timeloop, unlike Siffrin, becomes more distant and cold rather then something more akin to Sif's mania.

NOW, MORE ART!!!

KILL KILL KILL:

I imagine Isa didn't have this encounter the same way that Sif did. Yeah, frankly, Isa is pissed with the sadness- But that's not why he goes through with this.

In this moment, Isa is trying to kill two birds with one stone. He's trying to get through this quickly, as well as reassure Mira that they can do this! If he shows how strong he is, then she'll feel safe right???

Poor Isabeau forgot that whenever he shows that he thinks ahead, he scares people. How could he forget that? How could he forget that he's inherently---

Family Quest:

I still think Odile is the one to call out to him (same with sus quest).

The hangouts I'm still figuring out, cause I don't think they'd too similar to base game- But, fun fact, at the end of this run, everyone agrees to keep travel together!

Isabeau brings it up, can't hurt if you can fix your mistakes right? And everyone agrees. The relief on Siffrin is the most palpable thing Isabeau has ever seen.

In this moment they love you. In this moment they all love you. In this moment---

Death Screen:

He loops back anyways. (This is one of the initial concepts that I ended up animating. This line in particular is when he reaches the end)

Act 5 Tarot Card:

NOW TO SEE MORE OF HIS PASSIVE AGRESSIVE SIDE

Thanks to @the-bitter-ocean for prescribing tarot cards to Isa (THEY ALL FUCK SO HARD) and for the RAW ASS LINE

If interacted with in act 5, predictably, Isa tears it apart. He doesn't need the divine judgement upon him, he's faced everyone's perception his entire life.

However, he tears it methodically. Tears it once in even pieces, twice, three times, and one of the pieces once more. In a way he isn't even getting his emotions out, it's like he's actively trying to tear it apart so it stops nagging him, like he wants to shut it up. Though, the Judgement card symbolizes rebirth, absolution and inner calling. In Act 6 he'd be able to look at it and find comfort and confidence in the card.

Act 5 Mirror:

And lastly, I have the Act 5 mirror picture. I haven't quite figured out how to make the normal ones work yet, however, I couldn't let go of the idea that Isa would not want to be in the picture.

The idea of seeing himself at all makes his head hurt and his stomach squeeze. The memory haunts him as he stands to the side and says the word. He didn't think the mirror would catch him.

AAAAND THAT'S ALL THE ART STUFF FOR NOW!!

I still have quite a bit of it to post, especially about Roboro, but I'm gonna leave it here for now.

I still gotta figure out the hangouts and potentially the dagger equivalent- but I have ideas for Bad Touch, the glass equivalent, and some extra little things that didn't happen in Siffrin's loops.

I needed to yap about this, because I've been slowly stacking up ideas and writing and I needed to share it at some point- If anyone read all this and has questions and stuff I fully welcome 'em!!

[zhelin-thames]

Danny and Dex-Starr saga

Read the prev parts Masterpost (Lantern corp)

Dex-Starr eyes the glowing ecto-snack, his glowing red aura flickering with hesitation. After a long, tense pause, the angry cat cautiously snatches the snack with one paw and inspects it.

Dex-Starr: [Grumbles, sniffing] “This better not be poisoned, ghost-boy.”

Danny: [Scoffs] “Seriously? Like I’m gonna waste good ectoplasm on poisoning a space cat. That stuff’s hard to make!”

Dex-Starr takes a tentative bite, his furious expression softening for a moment as the snack melts into a satisfying glow in his mouth.

Dex-Starr: [Mumbles through chewing] “…It’s not bad.”

Danny: [Smirking] “See? Told ya. You’re less scary when you’re not hangry.”

Dex-Starr glares at Danny, but the intensity has dulled into something more akin to annoyance than murderous rage. He floats closer, his red aura dimming slightly.

Dex-Starr: “So what’s your deal, anyway? You don’t smell like the rest of these humans.”

Danny: [Floating backward slightly] “Uh, thanks? I’m kinda… half-dead, I guess. Half-human, half-ghost. It’s complicated.”

Dex-Starr: [Narrowing his eyes] “Half-ghost? That explains the weird energy.”

Danny: [Shrugs] “Yeah, it’s a whole thing. But I’m still technically alive, so... anyway, why’re you so mad at everyone? Space cats don’t usually hang out in sewer systems plotting doom, right?”

Dex-Starr’s plasma flickers again, and his posture stiffens. He looks away, his growl returning faintly.

Dex-Starr: [Quietly] “Humans killed my human. The only one who ever cared about me. They hurt her… and they took her from me. Now all I have is rage.”

Danny’s casual demeanor falters as he processes Dex-Starr’s words. His own memories of losing loved ones flash in his mind—the times he felt powerless to protect them.

Danny: [Softer] “…I’m sorry. That sucks. A lot.”

Dex-Starr: [Snapping back] “I don’t need your pity!”

Danny: *“It’s not pity. It’s just… I get it. I lost people too. Felt like the world was out to get me for a while. But staying mad forever doesn’t fix anything. Trust me, I tried.”

Dex-Starr hesitates, his claws retracting slightly. The flicker of anger in his eyes doesn’t disappear, but there’s a hint of something else—doubt, or maybe curiosity.

Dex-Starr: “…And what fixed it for you?”

Danny: [Grinning awkwardly] “Uh, I mean, I’m still figuring that out. But helping people, even when it sucks, kind of makes it suck less? Plus, I’ve got a ghost dog who keeps me company. That helps too.”

Dex-Starr tilts his head slightly, his red aura dimming further.

Dex-Starr: “A ghost dog?”

Danny: “Yeah, big guy named Cujo. He’s kinda like me—half-alive, half-ghost, 100% lovable.”

Dex-Starr: [Grumbles] “Hmph. Sounds ridiculous.”

Danny: [Floating upright] “It totally is. But hey, if you’re ever tired of being mad all the time, you could come hang out with me and Cujo. I bet he’d like you, even if you are a walking rage ball.”

Dex-Starr stares at Danny for a long moment, his tail twitching. Then, with a huff, he turns and starts to float away.

Dex-Starr: “Don’t count on it, ghost-boy. But… I’ll think about it.”

Danny watches the glowing red light disappear into the sewer tunnels, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Danny: [To himself] “Progress. Angry space cat progress.”

[catcze]

APHSY. ❤︎ .ᐟ — "Heaven is a place on Earth with you."

A gentle breeze drifts across the field of red blooms, the golden light making them glow like flickering flames. The sky is vivid and clear— dusking pretty blues and purples and pinks, vibrant in a way that can only be seen so far away from the city, in this little pocket where only they exist.

“ ‘These flowers will bloom, but only ever for one person,’ “ Aphrodite recites, leaning down to pluck a flower, holding it gently with her fingertips. At her side, Sylus watches each of her movements, the look in his eyes akin to honey— sweet and gooey-soft with affection.

“That’s what you told me a long, long time ago,” she muses, her eyes finally drifting away from the flower in her hands, only to finally lock gazes with him. She smiles, lip gloss shining in the light. “ But that’s not entirely true anymore, is it? Look, they’re blooming now, too. For your birthday.”

And it’s true: the whole field of red daturas are in full bloom, painting the field with patches of red. Each flower is nearly bursting with life, petals large and colorful with a crimson that rivals the color in Sylus' own eyes. And yet. And yet, despite the charm of the flowers, they pale in comparison to true beauty. 

He scoffs. “You say that like a flower’s birthday greetings could ever outshine yours, ” Sylus says, the corner of his lips curling slightly, eyes never straying from the woman in front of him. In one smooth movement, he plucks a flower and tucks it between the strands of her hair, settling it prettily by her temple.

Sylus hums, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. “Even their beauty can’t compare.”

And oh, the laugh that elicits from her is enough to have his smirk grow into a full grin, beaming with pride. “Goodness,” she giggles, drawing him closer to her with a soft hand at the cut of his jaw. As always, he willingly goes, his own touch on her arm so painstakingly gentle as he leans down. In the slowly setting sun, the black gemstones of their matching rings glitter delicately. 

Her eyes turn into the most adorable crescents when she smiles. “You’re such a smooth talker, you know that, birthday boy?”

Quicker than he can respond, Aphrodite is already pressing the softest of kisses to his lips— brief, little more than just a peck, really, but his heart still skips a beat in his chest. She’s looking at him like he’s something to be adored, loved. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways— nearly has his knees buckling from the sheer weight of it, nearly sends him sprawling amongst the red petals.

“Happy birthday, Sylus,” comes the sweet voice of his goddess, a whisper only meant for his ears.  “Let’s celebrate it together again next year too, okay? “

His grin turns into something softer, sweeter. Something reserved for only her— for his Aphrodite. His beloved, who owns his heart in its entirety.

“Next year, and every year after,” he says, the words sounding like a promise, a vow— and with how she smiles, he knows that she can hear it too. 

APHSY BDAY COMM P.2 ₊˚⊹♡ YUME MASTERPOST

[flamingpudding]

Part 16 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

>>Masterpost >>AO3

<<1 Previous Next

Something is missing. Wait that's a ring?

"What were you thinking? No wait, you probably weren't thinking at all." Jazz hissed as she tied a bandage around Dan's arm who grumbled and looked out the side. They were currently the only ones in the hidden room of Sam's Mansion. "What were you even doing? You still haven't explained anything. Not where you went, nor what you did."

Dan only grumbled again, head still turned away. But from the corner of his eyes, he was watching Jazz. Though he refused to give an answer. His encounter with Talia of all people wasn't something he was going to tell her about. Nor that he overestimated himself. Well, he still thought he could take her and that that woman probably used some dirty tricks when he fought her.

He watched Jazz warp the obviously non-lethal cuts on his human body. They weren't lethal. Talia didn't aim to kill once when he tried to get answers out of him. Yet she was able to keep up with him, his ghost form specifically. Even knew how to counter him.

Dan knew this now and he was not going to get Jazz or any of the others involved with her. Danny wouldn't want that either. Though Dan was not doing that for Danny, at least that's what he told himself. Because Talia was dangerous.

He doesn't know how but she had Fenton technology and that damned taser Vlad created that could suppress ghost powers for some time and force Danny, Ellie and him into human form. Though Dan was aware that Vlad had locked all his inventions away, even destroyed some of them under the watchful eyes of him and Danny before, part of that man's redemption apparently, he also knew that this was the League of Assassins. He wasn't delusional, and it was likely since Talia knew about his existence she likely also already had procured any inventions that could counter ghost powers.

Which didn't lessen his suspicion of that woman at all. No, it made her even more suspicious in his mind. She must have something to do with Danny's disappearances. Especially when she said something about Danyal being where he belongs. Considering the bits and pieces he still remembered from his shared memory with Danny could mean anything.

"Dan! Dan! You aren't listening aren't you?!" Jazz groaned and Dan realized he had zoned out while he had been thinking. "URG! You and Danny are so alike!"

A dark chuckle escaped Dan but at the look, Jazz gave him, he bit back his snarky comment. Though a moment later it wouldn't have mattered anyway a portal opened right before them startling Jazz and causing him to course.

Though neither expected Wolf to be the one to step out of it. The wolf ghost looked around until his eyes fell on Dan and the ghost started to spew out sentences in quick succession that didn't make sense to either. Dan blinked before he finally elbowed Jazz. It sounded like something happened in the Ghost Zone. Something that wasn't good and for a split second Dan hoped that Fright Knight would be fine stopping anyone going through the gate at Vald's. "Call Tucker."

Meanwhile in a penthouse in Gotham…

"Was that supposed to happen?" Tim wondered out loud, questioning once more how he had let Steph talk him into this. Seriously, how? The two were currently staring at a chalk circle drawn on the floor of his bird nest. Stephanie right next to him. The book on ghosts open in her lap on the specific page of how to summon a ghost or more accurately, the ghost king.

Tim hadn't expected anything from this really. Like nothing at all, while he knew about magic, ghosts and all the other supernatural stuff. He did not expect this to work at all. He was still trying to learn how to decipher something akin to ghost language, that apparently Jason can read. Which he was still not over yet, he still planned on pestering the other for more answers. There had to be some better explanation of 'i just can, maybe because i died?' Because if that had been the case then he was pretty sure 90% of their family should have been able to read the damned green note.

Well in the middle of these struggles and logical conclusions Tim was trying to make Steph had gotten her hands on his book and… well she got invested too. Just not like him, in a different way. Like her usual, slightly chaotic way. Which resulted in trying to summon a ghost.

"We did everything right, right?" She muttered, flipping through the pages of the book. "Maybe I should have bought the duck candles after all instead of normal ones…"

Tim shook his head hearing that. "Steph, no." A sigh left his lips before his eyes focused back on the object that now lay in the drawn chalk circle. He was contemplating what to do. Maybe even call Greta until he noticed Steph reaching for it and slapped her hand away from it. "Steph, no."

He gave her a stern look as he repeated himself. His eyes went back a moment later to the toxic green ring with a red eyed skull symbol on it. It reminded him slightly of a lantern ring, just more deadly and likely dangerous. Considering they apparently had summoned it from what was described as the Infinite Realms, in the book.

The blond next to him gave him a pout before getting up and going to Tim's kitchen, coming back with grill tongs and picking the ring up with them before he could stop her again. "What should we do with this?"

The black haired teen sighted getting out one of his special evidence collection bag and opening it for Steph to drop the ring into it. Making sure neither of them would ever touch whatever they had just summoned directly. "I don't know yet. But I think I will make a call to Greta. Probably should have done so earlier. Also I will see if there is a way to analyse… this ring."

Steph hummed, her earlier excitement of doing a ghost summon gone. "That's… kind of boring." Tim could only shrug as an answer, again he hadn't expected anything at all from this. Steph had been the one to hype this summon thing up, expecting to actually summon something from the so called Infinite Realms.

"I want to try again later! Maybe tomorrow You know when everyone is out on patrols! Oh maybe we should try it on the highest building of iGotham, at Fullmoon! Like some real ritual thing!" Steph continued on her enthusiasm returning, Tim shook his head, thought he didn't disagree. A part of him was after all curious and maybe he could get some tips from Greta first before they tried again. The ring, as intriguing as its design was, was kind of disappointing as a summon result.

Another sigh left Tim's lips as they moved to clean up. He did not notice how a green post-it note appeared in the evidence bag by the ring with writing he would not be able to decipher.

[journey-of-daydreams]

Computer Program!Rewrite x Physical!Reader Headcanons

Rewrite is a computer program, yeah? Where's all the content of them and someone outside of the digital world!! Where's my fellow computer lovers!! In this, Rewrite is a sentient/supernatural computer program inside a computer, and Reader is a physical person.

Type: Headcanons Content Warnings: None Stage: All Notes: These are intended to be platonic, but can be interpreted any way you want.

[Link to Rewrite & Reader Masterpost]

───{⭕⭕⭕}───

[⚫]

* Rewrite's influence begins the second you open the sonic.exe file. They are the program, actually, and you just unknowingly invited a supernatural entity into your computer. * They present themself as a normal playable Sonic game. It's off, of course, like some bootleg version of Sonic. But it's what draws you in. * What happens next depends entirely on your actions. Close the game at a certain point, they'll keep note and try something different next time. If something keeps your attention, or there's a specific part of the game you keep playing, they will expand on that. The game itself changes as you play it. Anything to keep you here. To keep them open. -> You explore the environment a lot? You'll find it to be more expanded upon. Go out of your way to collect rings or collectibles? You'll see more of them now. * Sonic, Rewrite's vessel, acts completely under your control. For now. * Why do the characters seem so lively? When you talk to them, they say... Odd things. -> "Can you help me?" "What is this place?" "Please stop." -> But don't worry!! After a while, you stop seeing them. Everything is fine!! * At first, they behave like a normal computer program, and Sonic acts like a normal video game character. But as their influence progresses...

[⭕]

* Once Rewrite reaches their 1 ring stage, they gain awareness of You. They act akin to a virus as they do whatever they can to keep your attention. Their game randomly boots up, popups and notifications will begin plaguing you. -> "sonic.exe - Play now!" -> "sonic.exe - Sonic misses you!" -> "sonic.exe - You're missing out on the Fun!" * From this point forward, they will leave images and text files for you to find! You're welcome. -> hello.txt - :) -> welcome back.txt - I missed you! -> SONIC.txt - (ascii art of Sonic) -> SONICMISSESYOU.png - (Sonic giving a thumbs up at the camera) -> READ ME.TXT - 私を目撃して。 * Sonic at this point begins moving on his own accord. If you sit idly for too long, Rewrite will move Sonic in attempt to catch your attention, and then give control back to you once you come back. -> If you ever move the camera in front of Sonic as you play him, you'll notice he's always looking directly at the camera. At you. * You start getting suspicious about them... They're acting too chaotically. They respond too realistically to your actions. But, it's just an advanced virus, right? Maybe you're imagining things. -> Any attempts to communicate with Rewrite, through text or by speaking to the camera, will not be responded to. Yet. They do not yet have complete access to your files or other programs. They can leave files, but not read them.

[⭕⭕]

* In their 2 ring stage, they are on the border of full awareness and self awareness. This stage is painful for them. They unintentionally break your computer. Random blue screens, audio playing when it shouldn't, files disappearing or moving. Putting your computer to sleep would be a mercy to them. -> At some point, the game might refuse to open for a few hours... Strange. * It's hard to communicate with them in this stage. Any attempts to talk might be responded to with vague or cryptic messages. Or begging. -> There's nowhere to go -> 待って待って待って待って -> SSBORUVEIFlPVQ==

[⭕⭕⭕]

* At their 3 ring stage, they lose their computer-breaking behavior and everything goes back to normal! Except, now, they have complete awareness of the digital world and the physical world. * They are more intertwined with your computer. They can "feel" when it gets turned off. They can see you through your camera. They can read any file you've left on your device. The fans whir loudly any time you approach. At this point, you could say they *are* your computer, or at least, its their vessel now. * You can directly communicate with them at this stage, be it through text files or speaking through a camera, if you have one. Whatever method you use, they will use too. At this point, their sentience becomes clear. Ask them who they are, and they will say, "I am God.". They truly believe themself to be a digital god. * It's impossible to get them to leave you alone at this point. Try to write or mind your own business, they will constantly send popups your way. At this point you have to keep them open in one window and do your tasks in the other just to show them you're still watching. * They desperately want you to be in their digital world with them, and don't seem to understand why you aren't, and why they can't pull you into it. * They become willing to let you play as other vessels, simply so their own vessel can interact with yours. At this point, they would know what kinds of things you like by scouring around your files. Have a bunch of pictures of forests? Said you like parties once? Now you're having a party in the forest with Sonic. * If you even show the slightest hint of wanting to abandon them, they will immediately behave like ransomware. Completely take the computer over and refuse access to any of your files until you comply. But you wouldn't do that to them, would you? * The files they leave become more intimate and outwardly affectionate at this point. Expect text files that say things like, "I love you", "I will never leave you", "You are beautiful", or long paragraphs just talking about You and how they wish you were here with them. -> Using knowledge about you they gained by peeking into your files, they'll also leave you images of things you like. Like rabbits? There you go, free image of a rabbit.

[sensational-blue]

The Amazing Digital Café AU Masterpost

Introducing my TADC AU called the Cafe! au!

This AU is a slice of life kinda story akin to that of anime that focuses on maid cafes and the like, as well as the everyday modern life of the TADC cast + my OC.

(p.s I have no clue what Im doing when making this master post. lol)

Info Cards

I am very excited about this AU and I hope you all enjoy this first little tidbit of the character introductions.

Also if you have any questions, wanna say something about the characters, wanna give some suggestions, funny ideas to draw, or anything,

MY ASKS ARE OPEN

(please send me asks I think it would be so fun) Anyway, Enjoy!

I will be updating this later when I have more.

[dancingontheblades]

The beauty of accidental marriage proposals

Yuuri very likely didn’t intend to propose to Viktor at the airport but his heart knew what it truly desired and twisted his words into a proposal—or rather something akin to a proposal that resulted in a spontaneous engagement.

Let’s unpack this!

Yuuri returns from the Rostelecom Cup with his mind full of things that he needs Viktor to know. While he doesn’t disclose any details, his inner monologue in front of Luzhniki Small Sports Arena gives us a good idea of the things he’s mulling over.

Having convinced himself that Viktor will abandon him after the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri is determined to fulfil the promise he made in his speech in ep. 5 because it’s his final chance to win gold. But even if he doesn’t win gold, there is one thing that he feels he needs to do after having seen his competitors and skating fans react to Viktor becoming a coach at two consecutive competitions.

Regardless of how much Yuuri has profited from Viktor’s support, he is very conscious about the fact that Viktor belongs to the ice. Or at least that is what his anxiety has convinced him of. In Yuuri’s brain, giving up his own career so that Viktor can resume his own is an act of love and the only possible solution for them to stay together.

We never learn about the conclusion of Yuuri’s contemplation, but the next scene’s subtext implies that breaking up with Viktor is not an option. Or, if it was an option, it was off the table once he was back in Viktor’s arms.

Since Yuuri has anxiety, it's safe to assume that he has been overthinking his talk with Viktor over and over during the flight, going through all kinds of scenarios based on Viktor's imagined reaction. After hours on the plane, his brain must have been on the verge of exploding, casting poor Yuuri into a state of total overwhelm. If you have anxiety, you can possibly relate.

However, the moment that he spots Viktor, Yuuri’s mind goes blank and instinct takes over as he runs into Viktor’s arms, and instead of whatever speech he has prepared, he just blurts out the following line:

僕も考えてた。引退まで 僕のこと—　お願いします！ "I've been thinking, too. Please take care of me until I retire!"

The English subs dilute Yuuri’s actual message. In Japanese, he doesn’t use the word coach here. “Please take care of me” is Japanese proposal language. The translators probably didn’t recognise this nuance and sadly, the it is still lost in the Blu-ray version.

However, Viktor correctly recognises the proposal in Yuuri’s words.

Given the information in the previous scene and the illogical ways anxious brains work, Yuuri intended to inform Viktor about his retirement plans and to voice his desire to make the most of the little time he thinks they have left. But that’s not what his heart wants. And since episode 5 we know what it desires:

初めて自分から繋ぎとめたいと思った人、それがヴィクトルです

A more accurate translation of that line is “The first person I want to tie myself to and never let go is Viktor” because 繋ぎとめたい means wanting to tie someone / something to you and never let it go (see this translation error masterpost).

Having made such a passionate declaration, there is no way that Yuuri would want his relationship with Viktor to end, and regardless of whether his anxiety his skyrocketing in the face of the GPF looming ahead, that desire has taken root in his heart and brain. However, his anxiety stops him from proposing properly and turns his addition “until I retire” into a gentle prodding to find out whether he and Viktor are on the same page.

And of course, they are.

And this is all Yuuri has wished for. He’s been anxious since he made up his mind in front of Luzhniki Small Sports Arena. Only when Viktor recognises the proposal and responds with a yes in the same fashion as Yuuri has phrased his request, he can relax.

To wrap this up

Absence nurtures desire, and in this case, the time apart has shown Yuuri and Viktor how much they want to be by each other’s side. Because he missed Viktor so desperately, Yuuri’s heart wins over his anxiety for once and enables him to tell Viktor his deepest desire. By recognising said desire, Viktor is able to accept the proposal and the two are now officially engaged. And that’s yet another beautiful aspect about this show.

Unfortunately, Viktor didn’t catch the part about the retirement, which will result in him thinking that Yuuri wants to break up when Yuuri announces his retirement plans in Barcelona. On the other hand, knowing that Viktor wants to stay by his side forever is a huge relief for Yuuri and allows him to enter the GPF without any emotional baggage.

Bonus: look at that cute tiny smile right between Viktor saying yes and the second hug.

For further readings related to this please check out:

Japanese dating culture in YOI

Unwrapping "Let's end this"

On Yuuri's top-secret love life

If you enjoyed this analysis, you might like to check out my works on AO3 (link in bio) or just support me by reblogging this post.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Could Dyschronometria/dyschronia exist in Gallifreyans? If so, what could cause it, and would it be more debilitating than in humans because of their time sense?

Can Gallifreyans experience dyschronometria?

Yes. And when they do, it'd be bad. Really bad.

Gallifreyans can no more stop sensing time than a human can forget they're standing upright, because it's baked into their neurology. The time sense is so fundamental to their biology that losing it is the equivalent of a seeing human waking up one morning to find they're suddenly missing their optic nerves. It's life-changing.

📉 Likely Causes

Neurological trauma – damage to the chronotemporal or psionic areas

Chrono-illnesses – diseases that affect time-sensitive species specifically

Post-regenerative instability – regeneration is rewiring at high speed; things will glitch

Degenerative syndromes – e.g. dementia

Congenital or Looming errors – rare, but usually identified and corrected early in life

🌀 Temporal Perception Disorder (TPD)

A possibly very common post-regeneration phenomenon akin to Alice in Wonderland Syndrome. Effects may include:

Chronological dissonance – time feels too fast, too slow, or out of order

Sensory mismatch – visual and auditory input desynchronises (you see something happen before you hear it)

Self-lag – sensation of arriving a moment after your body

Spatial warping – hallways stretch, doors feel too far away

Memory echo – past events replay as if they're happening again, sometimes layered over reality

Temporal anchoring loss – a vague, floating sensation of not knowing what part of the day or year it is

TPD usually resolves within hours of regeneration, as biodata re-synchronises and cortical rhythms stabilise. If it doesn't, it may signal a deeper disorder—true dyschronometria—which requires immediate intervention.

🏫 So…

Yes, Gallifreyans can suffer from it. But for a species that navigates the universe by feeling time, losing that ability is more than disorienting—it's potentially identity-fracturing.

Related:

💬|👁️⏲️How do Time Lords see the future?: Overview of the five-dimensional aspect of Time Lords and how they perceive the future.

🤔|👁️🌀What does a paradox feel like to a Gallifreyan?

💬|🧬🦽Do Time Lord-specific disabilities exist?: Types of disabilities specifically for Gallifreyans, both known and theoretical.

—GIL

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[guster-animations]

Kamen Rider Gavv Episode 27 Production Blog

either i’m rusty or this one just sucked to get through. minami takishima is moving down on my producer tier list

TOKU TRANSLATION MASTERPOST HERE

taken from this website

Looking at the Next Episode

Thank you for waiting two weeks for “Kamen Rider Gavv”! It was a welcome break from this hard-core story. Director Sugihara had a lot of fun with the passage where Sachika captures Chocold (the dark chocolate Gochizo) in Dente’s cave (None of it was specified in the script, haha). And then Kamen Rider Bake, which is packed full of Asanuma’s emotions. He was perfectly synchronized with his suit actor, Kai Kitamura! The fated confrontation will continue in the next episode.

Previously, it was written that the “Hanto-Dr. Suga” connection was what created the second Kamen Rider, but it’s really formed from the “Suga-Hanto-Shoma” connection. Shoma is trying with all his effort to bring back Hanto, who can’t separate himself from Suga. It is true that Suga isn’t an enemy or on the bad-guy side, and it’s a win-win for Hanto. It feels like the three of them have had their interests thrown off kilter. How will this unsteady relationship turn out in the end?

Please look forward to Hino, Chinen, and Asanuma’s soul-filled performances in the next episode!

The Episode in Short

“Does it really end there?!” Well, thank you for watching episode 27, which aired two weeks after the last episode. (Ooh…! During that time, there were school memories that didn’t really happen… haha. Please look forward to this as well.)

Episodes 27 and 28 are “soulful Sugihara episodes” that Hino eagerly spoke of. The new form that appears in the preview is cold, but he’s still overflowing with warmth, so please watch their battles to the end.

Mr. Suga’s Lullaby

Hanto witnesses Suga talking with two Dark Shomas. In the moment where Suga responds to a Dark Shoma that called him Dad with “I’m not your dad!”, his line mixes a beaming smile with coldheartedness. To rub salt in the wound, he addresses the distraught Hanto like nothing’s out of the ordinary. Every expression of Asanuma’s is incredible. Hats off to him for the amount and depth of his knowledge.

But this is the first time that he’s looked impatient when Hanto flees the laboratory and leaves him alone. Supposing that he gave Hanto the BreaCookie Gochizo… I wonder how that would’ve turned out.

Suga’s lullaby was striking in this episode. We decided to make it something from overseas at the scriptwriting meeting, so we had him hum a Brahms lullaby.

Even Suga’s character song (which is currently popular on streaming platforms), “Inquiry into the Test Subject’s Evolution,” mentions “sleep” in its lyrics. By the way, he doesn’t seem to be singing alone in “Test Subject’s Evolution”. Please enjoy this in addition to the main series…!

I wonder how Shoma’s feeling, after being captured by a Kamen Rider that a clone with his own face transformed into, and being forced to listen to something akin to a ransom call.

Shoma: “Hanto, your specialist researcher is kinda scary, I guess~ (laugh)”

Hurry! Dente Hospital

In the case that you’ve found your dear friend Hanty lying on the road, and he can’t go to the hospital…

You should check him in at Dente’s place.

Hanto’s been in this situation many times. He’s accumulated experience with scenes where he loses consciousness and where he sees things that he shouldn’t have seen.

Treatment requires electricity! So, the Gochizos generate electricity with a hamster wheel. 💡

(This process uses up all their strength…?!) They’re sacrificing themselves to save Hanto!

Then, Sachika sees the movements of the Chocold Gochizo planning to escape with her mind’s eye.

This Anything Agency is too amazing. Director Sugihara had a lot of fun adding flavor to it!

The old Granute and the gyaru are comforting.

Then, Rakian joins them too. It’s a little amusing to hear Sachika’s signature nicknames spreading to Dente. Please look forward to Mr. Dente’s research into his former pupil Nyelv’s belt and Gochizos in the next episode.

Transform. A Freshly-made Bake

Full-power change!

16 Bang! Zenkai Jurrrrran, Dinosaur Power!

…is what you’d think he’d say, but he doesn’t. He transforms not with gear, but by setting a cookie Gochizo into the Bake Magnum.

It was Asanuma’s idea for him to not immediately think of the word “transform”. It’s very fitting for Suga to not place importance on the word most valuable for every Kamen Rider, to only be interested in his technology. It’s creepy (this is a compliment). And then Asanuma adds the ever-symbolic finger snap… he’s never careless…

As the name suggests, Kamen Rider Bake successfully transforms with a sequence that looks like something being baked.

The pattern is asymmetrical in its placement of chocolate chips in the cookie-like armor. Since the Bake Magnum is an upgrade of the Valen Buster, his body’s outline resembles Valen.

The suit actor for post-transformation Suga is Kai Kitamura. Not only is he close in height to Asanuma, but they’re both left-handed (and Kitamura also has a really good voice)! So, he mainly fights with the Bake Magnum in his left hand.

Kamen Rider Bake is comprised of the teamwork of Kitamura, who is experienced with stage shows, and Asanuma, who’s been part of many stage works and performances. They read their lines aloud together beforehand, and he actually made his movements to match Asanuma’s voice even on the scene. They took it on with teamwork and an extraordinary degree of passion.

Suga’s detached presence is still felt while transformed. He doesn’t think it’s important that he’s become a Rider, more so that he gets to demonstrate his technology. He might have thought, “Well, the person I put Granute organs into doesn’t seem willing, so I’ll just do it myself”.

A new battle song, arranged from Suga’s theme for Bake’s action scenes, has been created! This feeling of being chased down, like in a racing game with a dark racecourse, is amazing…!

And then there’s a rumor of Action Director Fujita attractively showing “character consistency”.

Bake is always chatting in his voice-overs, with a lot of ad-libs added for the footage. It’s somehow scary that he doesn’t change to a special voice because he’s become a Rider, instead keeping his detached tone of voice. I think that it’s the result of all of Asanuma’s experience and technologies, and that any character has limitations, but it seems to have left an impact on Chinen and Hino, who witnessed it (Laugh).

What stuck out the most was the truth that Suga had always been using them… he’s shaved down Hanto’s body and mind to nothing. 💦

…Even so, Hino is very good at crying while acting. (He immediately got an “OK” for the shot where his tears trickle down in the opening, too.)

Can he somehow get back up and retaliate?! Please stand by in the morning next week, with a frappe in one hand! (Laugh)

Accompany these two, who are very good friends offscreen. Please also look forward to the two-week special Valen commentary on TTFC!

(Written by Minami Takijima)

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles - part IV: the inbetween (hopewards)

(~12,5 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

we start the next morning, so expect brief mention of their last night's debauchery and grian’s resulting bruising, some naked skin (their legs are bare) and some teasing. just for a tiny bit. nothing explicit here at all though! a lot of this is actually them being giddy and stupidly in love. enjoy! <3

—

Even though they should be used to it by now, waking up in a different place keeps being disorienting. And this time, it hits worse. Because for the first time in a long while, they were actually able to relax. Sleep curled into each other. 

Grian stirs first, waking up to barely-lit surroundings, the fire reduced to nothing but faintly glowing embers. The walls of their little shelter don’t let through any light that might betray the time of day. There’s a warm body underneath him, rising and falling in the rhythm of calm breaths.

He wants to stay here, pressed against Scar. He thinks of closing his eyes and going back to sleep.

But the wind is whistling outside something horrible, and the space around him is dark and dizzyingly unfamiliar, and— The moment he moves, his body shoots back with pain.

A confused, pained yelp escapes him, the memories of last night still not rearranged properly in his dazed mind. He slips off Scar, coming to sit up on his bare legs, looking at the darkness with wide, unseeing eyes as his earwings flutter, trying to catch any noise that might hint at a coming threat. One of his wings is still slumped over Scar, a fact that's not quite registering in his mind as it tries to reboot to full alertness.

Scar is snapped out of his pleasant lull of sleep the moment Grian moves, and he's sat up as well the instant he hears Grian yelp, eyes darting around looking for danger—a trained reaction at this point. His glowing tail shoots out on instinct to provide some sort of light when the fire isn't doing it for him. 

But when all he sees is Grian, he visibly untenses, his ears dropping back down from where they were rapidly flicking around to listen for unseen threats. "What in the world?" he says with a half-nervous, half-relieved sigh. "You scared me— you alright, G?"

Grian’s gaze anchors on Scar. "I—" He sits perfectly still, save from the rapid tempo of his chest as something akin to panic teases at his bloodstream. His wing stays draped over Scar's lap. His body hurts. His legs are cold. There's a— 

There's a feather behind Scar's ear? 

Grian stares. "I thought—" He can't get the words out. His fingers curl, arms coming to wrap around his abdomen only for a flare up of pain to burn under his careless touch, an injury on his side hidden by a sweater and forgotten about by his still jumbled mind. He takes a sharp breath, a pained whimper slicing through it. 

Scar shimmies out of the feathery blanket he's been given in order to get right to Grian's side, gently reaching out to touch his cheek and his waist, knowing exactly which side to avoid. "Oh, shoot, hey, heyyy—" Scar moves so his face it's in front of Grian, filling his vision with his only slightly illuminated smile, soft and gentle. "Take it easy. You okay?"

The instant response from Scar and his ceaseless attentiveness help put Grian slightly at ease, enough to reclaim his breath and hopefully maybe start slotting things together in his mind. His gaze jumps between Scar's eyes, hopelessly needing grounding that Scar so readily provides. 

Instead of wrapping his arms around himself, his hands reach out, coming to grab at the edges of Scar's still-open shirt. "I... thought we're home?" he manages to finally say, voice incredibly small and wobbly, sounding a little as if he was about to cry. 

They're not home. They'll never be home again. It sears through his chest, the sliver of comfort so viciously yanked from him for the second time. 

Scar is so ready to help, to set Grian's mind at ease, but oh. Oh, that hurts. He can't help with that at all. Home is so impossibly out of reach here.

"We're... safe," Scar tries anyway, vaguely nodding at the walls they constructed. 

He truthfully understands how Grian could confuse things. He doesn't remember the last time he woke up feeling warm and secure, in his boxers of all things, too. And to have that illusion torn away so instantly? 

Scar's heart aches and he mournfully presses a kiss to Grian's temple. " 'm sorry..."

Grian sniffles, inconsolable, but he tips forward into the offered affection, desperate for every sliver of comfort he can get. His heart tears itself apart behind his ribs, a hot-white, grief-stricken pain that feels like it might kill him.

"We're safe," Grian repeats, his voice raw and so miserably tear-filled, there's no salvaging it and pretending this isn't painful. "We're— I still have you." His fingers clutch at the fabric, desperately tugging at Scar, needing him right here.

It's painful to Scar to see Grian so clearly distressed, though the determination to remedy that and soothe his partner's nerves thankfully overwrites any of his own sorrow for the time being. He graciously wraps Grian up in his arms and pulls him close to his still bare chest, nuzzling his head in.

"Of course," he says. That much is obvious. That much is always true. "I'm here. You're here." That's all we need, right? goes unsaid, only heard through the rapid rythym of Scar's heart.

A choked sob gets pressed against the collar of Scar's shirt as Grian burrows into the hug. "You're here," he repeats, needing those words like a lifeline. "You're here you're here you're he–re." His voice cracks and fails, and he's shaking, but Scar is here, and that matters immensely, more than anything.

Grian swallows thickly, trying to push down the quivery emotions that make him fray at the seams, at least enough to be able to speak again.

His forehead nuzzles against Scar as he sniffles again. "Please don't ever leave. Don't leave me." Not again.

Scar's mouth goes dry as he tries to swallow, all stability rapidly crumbling away. "... Shit— Grian, no. Not leaving." He wants to say never because god does he mean it, but he really can't, can he? And that's what arguably hurts the most. Makes him feel like a failure. 

Scar has so much more he wants to say. He can imagine the words, he feels the sentiment, but nothing is forming. He feels so broken.

So he buries his head into Grian's shoulder, fully slumped over the avian and wrapping him in close. "I—I said... yours," he forces out, choked and forcing back tears. 

He needs to be strong right now. Needs to, needs to, needs to.

Then he pulls away, just enough, trying to offer his best attempt at a smile and a small tilt of his head in the direction of the feather, his mind leaping to awareness of it. Clinging to it. "Yours, remember?"

Not leaving. Yours.

The words echo through Grian, an endless ricochet looking for purchase, for somewhere to sink into. He wants to keep them bouncing. Alive and on constant replay. 

Scar is pulling him closer and then pulling away, leaving Grian with a bewildered whiplash. He just wants to burrow in. He wants Scar to be his nest. His home. He is— He's his everything and Grian is terrified to let go, he needs to hold on, he needs to cling—

But Scar puts distance between them, and it's not even really distance, it's just enough for them to be able to have eye contact. And yet Grian still can't help but feel destabilised. His eyes trace over Scar's features, desperately trying to reassure himself with the familiarity of them, mapping out the weak, barely-there smile as if he was trying to memorise it all for the inevitable loss.

(No, no, no, he can't think about that. He can't—) 

(He remembers how it felt. Deep in the woods, all alone, not knowing if Scar is alive.) (Not knowing if he will survive another hour.) (No hands to hold. No arms to burrow into. Nobody there to build a feeble safety net underneath his exhausted, wobbly legs.) 

Scar tips Grian's attention to the feather and, obediently, Grian's attention goes, catching on the bright spot of violet. It makes his heart trip, fear and affection crashing violently into each other. One of his hands unlatches from Scar's shirt and reaches up, going for the feather. "Mine," he mutters unsteadily under his choked breath.

Scar tilts his entire head into Grian's hand, offering not just that portion of him marked with Grian's feather, but all of himself, desperately hoping the sentiment is understood. "Yours, always yours," he confirms, something like a croak breaking into his voice. 

At least that statement can ring true. It's always been true from the moment they found each other in this world. 

He absently nuzzles into the touch like a touch-starved cat since he may as well commit to the animalistic instincts at this point, silly as they may be. 

Scar wants to apologize, even if he's not completely sure what for. He's already apologized a thousand times over for leaving Grian, and he doubts that's something Grian actually wants from him right now. No, apologies would only be for his own sake, wouldn't they? Craving forgiveness and comfort from his own dreadful shame. That's not going to help Grian right now at all.

"Safe, I promise," he says, somewhat weak. It's not home, but— "Nothing bad here."

Grian listens to the promise. To Scar’s reassuring voice. 

They're in a small dark box, surrounded by walls. It smells like smoke, but feels all too cold. 

It's not a place for an avian.

"Okay," Grian relents anyway, voice small. Because it doesn't matter where he is as long as Scar is there with him.

With careful gentleness, Scar coaxes Grian to lie down again and rest a bit more while he gets the fire going. Obligingly, Grian curls up in a loose ball, draping a wing over himself—something he wouldn’t usually do so freely, his feathers on full display, vulnerable and bared. Still, he dips underneath, warmed by some fuzzy instinct descending over him, and he falls silent while Scar works.

Scar dutifully moves to relight the fire, trained at maximizing the effectiveness of limited kindling at this point, then starts gathering a few things for an almost proper meal, because he feels like taking the extra time. 

It’s the gentleman-y thing to do, surely? To make a nice breakfast for his partner? 

Either way, he wants to, so he gets out the basic clay mixing bowl they have and starts throwing in all the decent-tasting stuff they’d been saving— mushrooms, a few of the more bitter berries that taste better fried, their little jar of foraged herbs, and even the suspicious looking potato they’ve been hesitant to eat. Now’s as good of a time as any to check that it’s good.

It’s the smell of food permeating the air that lures Grian to peek out from his dozing pile. The fire is crackling, warm and bright, and Scar is fixing them some food over it.

For a moment, Grian watches, barely peeking over his wing, just his messy hair and dark eyes visible. He seems curious and cautious alike, but mostly, he's just endeared. He takes in Scar's features as the warm glow of the fire dances over them, the way his hands move, the way he prepares the meal from the measly scraps they have, and— oh.

Oh, he's so horribly in love.

Every bite and scratch and bruise on his skin makes so much sense. Just looking at Scar fills him with good kind of tingling, something that tells him he'd give himself over to him willingly. He'd give him everything. 

He finds, all of a sudden, that he doesn't regret any of last night. Even if he feels exhausted still, his body fragile and in pain. He's glad it happened. He wants to protect it, that insane wildness they showed for each other, an unsatiable craving stitched through with madness and blood and an assembly of all-too-private sounds, fully knowing there's softness and care to follow.

He's silent for a moment longer, sneakily observing. And then he says, quiet and out of nowhere: "Would you do it again?"

Alarm rings through Scar at the sudden sound (even though reasonably he knows it’s just him and Grian here), making his tail go almost comically rigid as he catches the bowl that practically leapt from his hands. To his credit, however, he doesn’t yelp in surprise like he normally would.

A muffled laugh escapes Grian, eyes flitting to Scar’s rigid tail. It's a wonderful sight, only because Grian knows they're safe and there's nothing to be afraid of. It allows him to bask in it, innocently startling Scar out of focus and reminding him that he's here with him. 

The answer to Grian’s question comes so easily to Scar. He admits almost instantly: “Yes.” Then softer, more hesitant and cautiously optimistic, “That is, if you— … would you?”

Because that’s the real question, isn’t it? Grian is the one with bruises to show from their little escape from reality. It’s Grian who really put himself out there with his wings on display and body for ravaging— 

Scar feels his cheeks heat up slightly, causing him to fumble over his words some more before even waiting for an answer, flustered and a little apprehensive. “Y–y'know, with or without the whole, um, foreplay.”

His ears burn.

Grian's eyes brighten at Scar's answer, but he continues hiding in his wings. He can tell Scar shifts from an instant answer to hesitation, and then dips straight from that to a flustered mess, and god, Grian wants to kiss him. 

"Yeah." It's painfully audible that he's grinning, even as his expression continues to be shielded by feathers. And it surprises him how much he means it, too. How easy it is to admit.

He watches Scar's fluster, and it makes him want to tease him more. It's adorable. 

His wing shifts, dragging up in an arch, revealing all of Grian that was tucked underneath—especially the cheeky smile, and the still-bare legs, bruised and scratched. He slightly uncurls, a process that just makes him show more skin, all the vulnerable bits of it there for Scar to see. The held-up wing seems almost like an invitation. "Yes, Scar. All of it," he reinstates, his eyes never leaving Scar's, watching for reaction.

Up until this point, Scar was basically talking at the fire, a little too nervous to look Grian in the eye and still focused on his task. But when Grian also agrees? Scar can’t help but shift himself, to turn around and chase after the sight of that smile he can hear pierce Grian’s words. 

He gets much more than a smile when he looks Grian’s way. 

Oh if his ears weren’t burning already, they are now.

He’s tempted to look away, not wanting to stare and further embarrass himself but… another part of him very much wants to ogle his mate. Because he can. Because Grian is his as much as he is Grian’s. And because he knows Grian likes it when he gives him attention. 

So he allows himself to stare. His eyes wander from the beautiful, cleaned, outstretched wings to Grian’s legs, bare and bruised and occasionally bitten, and— yeah, Scar finds he doesn’t regret a damn thing either. 

He also finds that he overwhelmingly wants to pounce, something primal as well as impassioned. Entranced by that invitation, eager to accept. 

All of it.

His tail has begun a low swoop, like a predator watching its prey, and wow Scar needs to hide that thing so it stops giving away his already incredibly obvious motives. He swallows hard, then, without even realizing, breathes out a small wisp of blue. 

Finally, Scar clears his throat loudly, face flushed, and turns his attention painfully back to the food, which is luckily basically done. “Ahem, um. G-good. Yep. Good.” He laughs at himself freely, amused. “… Food’s almost ready.”

[a little extra scene here - suggestive, preyplay, no explicit sex]

Even when they’re ready to eat, Grian finds himself struggling, body too weak—after months of barely any rest, and last night’s activities, and the ever-curdling hunger—but Scar’s all too ready to offer to carry him, despite his own weariness. 

"What'd'you make?" Grian murmurs as he weakly holds onto Scar, suddenly curious about the food, now that he's secure that Scar isn't leaving his proximity. "It smelled nice."

"Why, my famous... potato berry mushroom scramble? ... Patent pending." Scar settles next to the fire, keeping his little bird snugly in his lap. "Believe me, I outdid myself on this one," he cheers, grinning with satisfaction.

Grian presses a giggle to the base of Scar's throat at the description of the food, complete with a pending patent. It sounds like Scar's used just about anything good they had and threw it all together, but Grian can't fault him for it. Not now. Now he wants domesticity, and a little bit of play-pretend. He wants to ease into something that might be more living than surviving. So he's happy to indulge this.

When they settle down, Grian’s eyes are drawn to Scar, and he's rewarded with a delightful grin, and goddammit he really can't control himself—

He kisses Scar. Again, just a quick steal. Just a short, soft thing. A quiet trill pressed against Scar's lips. "Sounds wonderful." Laughter rings in his voice, heavy with tiredness and contentment, the earlier distress easily forgotten.

Scar's grin grows even wider, and he attempts to reciprocate the trill, a happy little sound passing through his toothy smile. "You're wonderful," he replies, giggling at the corniness. 

"Wah!" Grian sputters in protest, face flushing instantly. "You— big goof. You silly— You—" He can't come up with anything good enough that'd sit right on his tongue, but he feels the need to let Scar know he's a ridiculous, cheesy idiot, and anyway. He tips forward and bites at Scar's jaw in revenge.

It's the softest thing. It's barely anything, so horribly harmless it's laughable as a threat.

Scar snickers, unashamed of his goofy response. "No, no, you eat the food, not me, Grian."

Grian giggles against Scar's skin, remaining pressed close to him. "But I want you." 

Just as thoughtlessly, Scar replies, "Well you can have me for dessert then." Then, without registering at all what he just said, he gently nudges Grian to turn around. "You should grab some food before it gets cold." 

"You're ridiculous," Grian lets him know, flustered and amused and fond. He edges saying something similarly corny in response, but for the sake of his dignity, he swallows it down, glancing instead towards the bowl of food. And he still manages to say something horribly embarrassing. "Aren't you going to feed me?"

 “Oh, is that what you want?” Scar chuckles, a teasing fire alight in his eyes as well. “Want me to feed it to you like a baby bird?” He presses his snickering lips right up to Grian’s in an annoyingly sloppy kiss.

A dissatisfied grumble leaves Grian, even as he allows the kiss. Only to bite at Scar's lip. "Not a baby bird," he protests, as if that was the important part. He entirely fails to dismiss the rest of it. But he makes a big show of huffing and turning his face away.

Scar laughs again, but he nods somberly, as if agreeing to his very grave error. "Of course, right," he says, but he reaches for the food anyway. "Then, you want me to feed you like a lovely, doting boyfriend?" 

And oh, it's very silly, the way his face flushes at the word boyfriend, because it's not really a word they get much use of in this environment. It seems to carry a bit too much innocence and domesticity for the intensity of the bond they've cemented here, but— Scar smiles shyly. He thinks he likes the way it tastes on his tongue in this moment.

Grian's about to protest again when he hears Scar going on about feeding him—it was just silly, Grian didn't really plan on it being a thing—but then Scar drops the word boyfriend and Grian's whole mind screeches to a halt.

His eyes widen, gaze snapping back to Scar. 

Painfully slowly, his mind restarts, but it comes out still wrong, haywire. His whole body tingles, electric and staticky. "You— What—" He stammers, eyes roaming Scar's entire face, searching for something. "Say it again."

"I—uhh—" Scar's face heats up further under the careful scrutiny of Grian's attention. He feels his ears flick anxiously and almost groans out loud because he's so undeniably caught being embarrassed. "Like... a doting boyfriend?" he practically squeaks, growing more nervous the longer Grian stares at him with those big, dark eyes.

A slightly manic, uncontrollable smile grows unbidden on Grian's lips. All of a sudden, he feels immensely giddy, restless.

A simple word shouldn't do that to him. Not here. Not in a world where it's meaningless, it changes nothing, it's just the two of them like it's always been.

And yet—

And yet.

Grian's eyes squint a little, in a happy grin. "A boyfriend, you say?" It comes out teasing, but the joy is undeniable in it. 

In an instant, that anxiety is gone and Scar's beaming right back at Grian, smile full and wobbly. "I mean—" he starts, letting laughter spill out as his nerves relax, but he shifts straight into being teasing as well. "I've never really been the type of guy for one-night stands, soooo..."

Grian's expression shifts into a toothy smirk. He raises an eyebrow, playfully questioning. That hovering implication that Grian could've been a one night stand prickles around Grian's spine, even though he knows it's impossible. "You wouldn't dare." 

Briefly, he thinks of waking up in the morning after all of that—after all of giving himself over, after all of marks Scar left on him—only for Scar to say it was a one-off thing. 

Teasing disappears from his expression, replaced by something almost troubled. He's playing with his own thoughts, dispelled what-ifs that didn't even occur to him until now. It's nothing to get upset about, certainly.

He can feel the aches echo through his body, fresh enough to easily remind him of everything he's given over to Scar without asking for any sort of commitment. And yet Scar is here, offering it anyway. (Or at least, Grian thinks that's what's happening?) 

Scar watches Grian's face, how it morphs into a playful smirk, but then fades into something slightly fragile. It's a subtle thing, almost missable, but Scar catches it easily. He hums thoughtfully as he leans further into their little wordplay, eyeing Grian's lips, the tilt of his head, every miniscule gesture he's grown so accustomed to. 

"I think I'd be a darn fool to let you pass me by," he says, very purposely flipping the narrative to one where Grian is holding that power, of Grian being the one that Scar is fumbling to tie down in their simplistic, more whimsical portrayal of events. And when Scar smiles, it's small, but incredibly authentic, because in reality, that is the version of events he's intimately familiar with— a story of a hermit pining hopelessly after his neighbour, and now that he actually has him, Scar has no intention of ever letting go.

Grian chuckles weakly. He wants to play along. He wants to, really. 

But the reality is pushing down on him, insistent and as present as the dark corners of their small shelter. His heart is so tired and yet it beats so fast in his chest, unerringly stumbling as it aches for more of Scar, more love, more of those ridiculous promises he so tenderly weaves around Grian like a bed of petals to sink into.

"I really don't think you'd be a fool for that," he says, and it comes out hoarse. Like speaking past a lump, throat dry.

Because Grian is still just a beacon in this world. And Scar would be better off passing him by and choosing someone else.

That's a slippery slope of thoughts.

Grian finds he can't quite meet Scar's eyes.

Scar stops glancing over Grian’s face, just staring for a moment as he blinks in utter confusion. He feels as if he needs to kickstart his brain with how unexpected that comment was to him. Honestly needs to kickstart his lungs as well.

“What?” he manages to say, still baffled. After a few more slow blinks, Scar looks Grian over, wondering if this is some kind of joke that he’s missing the punchline for, but now Grian won’t even look at him. 

Nervousness sets in at the pure bafflement Scar displays. Grian isn't sure what to make of it. He didn't say anything that strange, did he?

“Are you kidding?” Scar asks, though it’s rhetorical. “Grian, I’ve—“ Say it again echoes though his head and Scar swallows past the lump in his own throat as he continues, “—I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for like an embarrassingly long time.”

Grian can't help but let out a small squeak. He's still not meeting his gaze, and his face is burning, even as everything in his chest continues to tangle and trip, a complicated mess.

Scar's words carry an implication of a lost past possibility. If they were braver—less idiots, really—they could've had it all. Beds and homecooked meals and domesticity. The full package.

Instead, Scar has him now, when Grian is nothing but an express ticket to Scar's permanent death. 

Even though Scar's words are nice, Grian can't stop the hitch in his breath and a fresh dose of tears. His wings finally slot tightly at his back, where they belong. Emotions come too easily to him now, everything in him frayed and fragile. He can't hold back a sniffle, staring down but not really seeing anything. No words form through the messy nonsense of his thoughts. 

It hurts Scar when Grian doesn’t respond. It hurts even worse to hear him begin to cry. 

Scar can’t help but wonder where exactly he fumbled. At what point did he say something that tipped the scales in favour of tears over laughter? 

He thinks he ought to cry as well, but unfortunately all he feels is a festering numbness settling under his skin, leading him to wonder why his words never seem to be enough.

(Why can’t he ever be enough?)

“I still do,” Scar whispers, perhaps a bit uselessly, but it feels so, so important to say. And the words keep tumbling out. “I— feel stronger when I’m with you? Maybe that’s silly, but… I… know you’re always there to catch me when I fall?” A mirthless chuckle, but he does break a smile. “Which is a lot. And… you’ve never doubted me either? You never treated me like a burden or like I can’t carry my own weight, which… I don’t know, that’s… that means a lot to me.” He sighs softly, trying to lower his face so Grian will look at him. 

Please, please look at me. Scar wants to say.

“Please say something before I keep talking myself into an embarrassing little hole?” he says instead.

Grian's mind stumbles to unlatch from the storm of its own thoughts, fumbling to shift focus to Scar's words. He tries to understand. All the things Scar lists for why he wants him. Why this is good. Why it matters, maybe now more than ever.

Grian isn't sure he can process it right here, right now, like this. Maybe he'll ask him sometime to say all that again. When his mind is slower and more ready to accept it.

When Scar begs him to speak, Grian closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. "I wanted—" No. No, it isn't working. His voice falters. Runs away from him like a startled rabbit. He has to go and find it again.

He takes another breath, deliberate. His fingers slide over Scar's shirt, trying to find the contact with the warmed, worn fabric grounding.

"I wanted to live with you," he finally says—chokes out—confesses. "Wanted to share a bed. Wake up next to you—" His voice gives out again.

In a way he has those things now. Sans the bed. But it is forced by horrible circumstances. It has nothing of the soft, warm domesticity of the fantasy.

He sobs and his hands leave Scar, in favour of pressing at his own, tear-streaked face.

"Wanted you to b— to be happy with me."

Another choked laugh escapes Scar at the small confession, something fragile and almost broken. “I wanted that, too,” he admits, voice hoarse.

He’s relieved Grian responded, not only that, but with something so sweet, because the fear of Grian entirely shutting down was there. And Scar isn’t sure he could handle the despondency right now.

It hurts horribly in Grian's heart, knowing that Scar wanted the same thing, and yet they never had it. They never allowed themselves to cross that imaginary line they thought was there. It tastes thick and raw like grief, to know it was never there at all and they could've had it all along. 

And they'll never have it now.

Grian chokes on heaved breaths, drowning on sobs, but Scar keeps talking.

“And… I am happy with you, Grian,” Scar continues, slow, carefully considering his every word now. “I think I would have gone mad by now if it weren’t for you. You’re— like… the only good thing in this stupid world. I feel like joy shouldn’t even be allowed here, yet I feel it with you.” 

The words feel slippery to Grian; he tries to hold onto them, but knows this is something he will need to be told again, once his mind stops being so rampant. Once his bruised heart tears at itself less. He wants them spoken to him in a quiet moment, serene maybe, if such a thing exists. He wants Scar's hands to gently trace his skin and he wants to hear him say it again; that Grian makes him happy, even in a place as wretched as this.

Scar’s face reddens again as he thinks of all kinds of cheesy things he could say here. You make me so happy. You are my joy. My darling. Light of my life.

Yet somehow, despite the embarrassment, he grows bold with his words in an another way entirely. 

“And maybe it’s not the same, but… we’ll have it all someday! A ridiculously over-the-top home, a full kitchen, a fluffy bed, way too many cats… I’ll even finish the backside for us.” 

It’s been so long since Scar last spoke of promises of going home. After so many months, that spark of hope had long since been extinguished, but Scar feels resolute in his statement this time. 

Because this time he means something else.

He reaches for his satchel, pulling out a compass he nabbed from the last hunter that crossed their paths. It’s scratched and the arrow points at a slightly off-angle, but it shines like an absolute treasure under the light of the fire.

He presses it to Grian’s chest, offering it to him.

“We’ll keep going north. North until we’re so far from civilization that no one can ever bother us. And…” Scar pauses, using his free hand to brush away some of Grian’s tears, his fingers lingering at his jaw as he tries to urge him to look up into his eyes. “… it can be just me and you, like it should have been a long time ago.”

Beffudedly bewildered, Grian blinks through tears, looking down, mind sparking at the offer of promise, a held out hope. Both of his hands come to meet that faint pressure, brushing against Scar's skin before they come into contact with the small object. His fingers shake as he takes it, tries so very hard not to instantly drop it as he shifts it and processes what it is. (He does it with one hand; his second one stays loosely around Scar's wrist, greedy for the warmth of that contact. His own skin is cold, fingertips wet from tears.)

The compass catches the glint of the fire. It feels precious and rare, a little bit like it could break at any second, as Grian keeps his shaky grip on it. 

He sniffles, unable to resist the tug of Scar's gentle touch on his jaw. He blinks through more tears, tips his head up, finally meeting Scar's gaze through the hot, blurry haze. 

North. Just me and you.

The idea trips through Grian.

Scar is extending a promise—a hope—a future, and Grian desperately grasps at it, wanting it to nest in his heart. It feels immensely brittle. It feels incredibly necessary.

He takes a less aborted breath, trying to let Scar's voice stich him back together.

"We— Can we—" His words fall apart, but he keeps trying. "We can have that?" His voice cracks, breaks completely, hitches into a sob as more tears flood his vision.

He brings the compass to his stomach, holds it against himself. His other hand lightly and harmlessly claws at Scar's forearm, looking for something to hold onto, something to ground all these loud, overwhelming emotions. 

"You'll—" A small, off-kilter chuckle breaks through the more miserable noises. It's tiny. It's wet and broken. And yet it's such a bright sound amidst it all. "You'll finish the back?"

Scar’s heart threatens to break at the broken little sob that escapes Grian’s throat, but instead he feels those stitches solidify and strengthen his resolve even further as Grian also grasps onto the promise, however weak his words may be. 

“Yes,” Scar confirms— to all of it. “We… we can bring home here.”

Because if they can’t go home, they’ll do this instead. They’ll make it work. It can be enough. As long as they’re together, maybe it can be enough.

The word home stings but simultaneously, it feels like velvet. Like something impossibly soft to sink into. Like warmth and protection and good things. 

Grian wants it.

He wants a home again.

He wants a home with Scar.

Wordlessly, Scar tilts Grian’s head up just a bit, kisses his forehead, wipes away a few tears. He’s so entirely serious about this, so very determined to make it true. He hopes that’s evident on his face, how his eyes flicker with purpose and truth.

The kiss feels like a seal of the promise; Grian whines weakly, leaning into it. He thinks his heart hurts less. He thinks— Maybe there's something at the end of all of this. Something they can have. Something they can share. Something theirs.

"Promise?" Even though it already feels like a promise, Grian still needs to hear it. His voice is wobbly and small and so achingly hopeful. He sniffles and in a rush, he tacks on: "I— I want that. Please, Scar."

“Yes,” Scar says again, nodding resolutely. “Absolutely. Promise.” He squeezes at the compass and the hand that Grian is holding onto. He presses another kiss to Grian’s brow. “It’ll be the most beautiful base this stupid world has ever seen. Or rather, never will see, preferably.” He smiles brightly, confident in everything he says. Truly confident.

It’s that confidence that really helps settle all the on-fire nerves under Grian's skin. It guides him to follow, to trust, to believe. 

They're stubborn. They're going to persevere. They'll do it. They will.

"I'll hold you to that," Grian warns with a small laugh, still skewed towards broken, rather than carrying any signs of cheer, but it's something. 

He finds himself leaning forward, tipping towards Scar, wanting to bury himself against his chest. One of Grian's hands remains trapped to his stomach, pressing the compass closely to himself, but his other hand wraps around Scar, needing to hold him, to tuck him close to himself. 

"I mean." He sniffles, but he's no longer crying. No longer choking on his breaths. "I'll help."

“Oh, I should hope so. I’m gonna need that special Grian touch,” Scar hums. He leans down to also burrow himself into Grian, right into his hair, his own special spot. “… I’d love to build a home with you,” he adds, spoken softly into the curls.

I'd love to build a home with you. 

Grian's  breath hitches, but not like he's going to cry. Not like he's in pain. There's something else entirely swirling within him, a deep, raw, fond emotion that knows no bounds when it comes to Scar.

"Can you—" This is the second time he's asking this in a short while, but he can't help himself. His words are muffled, slightly embarrassed and very needy, pleading. "Scar? Say that again?"

Scar’s briefly worried when Grian’s breath hitches, but he quickly exhales a soft laugh when he realizes why. “Mmm,” he hums against the top of Grian’s head, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. “I’d love to build a home with you, my boyfrieeeend.”

Grian tenses and squawks, feeling his face get hot. This was unfair. This was an attack! An ambush! He wanted to hear it again, sure, but not like this. He huffs and groans and he doesn't know what other noise to make to show Scar just how unfair this was.

"I'll bite you," he warns gruffly.

But actually, he's very happy. He's pleased. His feathers give him away, puffing up a little to show off, wings unfolding slightly more, happily presenting themselves to his mate. He nuzzles against Scar's collarbone, a small, deliriously giddy giggle traitorously escaping his lips.

“That’d only be fair, really,” Scar continues to tease, making a little biting sound by clacking his teeth together, but he nuzzles back afterward, unable to help expressing his boundless adoration.

Grian lets out a string of completely incoherent, flustered noises. He keeps pressing himself close to Scar, hiding his flushed face. His wings bend forward and swoop, partially encapsuling them in a loose half-circle, feathers trusting and within reach. 

Scar chuckles, pleased with himself, and so, so grateful for the mood shift. It feels like he did something right, and the fact that it was just him speaking from his heart makes it so much better. “Hmmm, you won’t bite me if I call you precious, will you? Because you’re precious,” he purrs, keeping his face buried in Grian’s hair as a defense mechanism.

Grian's grip on Scar tightens in protest. He squirms a little and makes a growly noise, although he's not very good at making it sound threatening. Certainly not now, with how flustered he is. "I will." 

Instead of biting, it's one of his wings that swoops closer, lightly smacking Scar's shoulder. An action that'd be unthinkable under normal circumstances. And yet Grian isn't even thinking about it now—his instincts aren't even thinking about it—he just does it, playfully grumpy.

Scar makes a surprised gawking noise, completely caught off guard because frankly he forgot Grian could retaliate using his wings at all. He sputters a bit, shocked, before breaking into a fit of tiny giggles, something so incredibly familiar about the gesture, something he hasn’t had happen in ages.

The surprised noise delights Grian to no end. The giggles feel wonderful afterwards. But—

Scar says it: “… Precious.”

He says it and Grian is going to jump out of his skin from how his face burns. "Scar!" he chastises, then delves into some more incoherent noises as his wings lift and spread, filling up the space around them, trying to be a threat. They flap in indignation. "You're the worst," he accuses, but it's clear he doesn't mean it.

Scar peeks up from the safety of Grian’s hair, unable to help himself when he hears the wings expand, smiling up at the gorgeous display. Grian’s a fool if he thinks that’s intimidating to him. It arguably makes him even more precious. 

“Is that any way to speak to your lovely, doting boyfriend? I mean gosh, I even made breakfast!” He can’t help but keep pushing. It’s fun and fun is hard to come by in this world. (Although not so hard as long as Grian is here.)

The noises Grian makes shift into theatrically miserable. His wings droop a little, some fight draining out of them.

And then there's a pause. 

Scar's holding him, and Grian can hear the smile in his voice, and it is true he made breakfast, and actually, he's done so much for Grian. The little teasing notwithstanding. (And oh, the word boyfriend still sounds so wonderful on Scar's lips, even if it's used as a tease.) 

Eventually, Grian burrows into Scar’s shoulder, mumbling something, too quiet to catch when it's muffled into Scar's shirt.

“What’s that, darling?” Scar croons, lifting his head in preparation for being whacked again. Unfair, really, because all he’s doing is speaking freely.

Instead of delivering another whack, Grian pulls away when Scar lifts his head. Not fully, not properly. Just to look up. His face is flushed, eyes glowing dimly with unknown intensity. His eyes trail the curve of Scar's neck, wondering if maybe he should deliver on his threat and bite him. 

Scar is instantly so ridiculously enamored by Grian’s lovely reddened face, always pleased with how the colour trickles across his freckles and melds into the purples of his feathered ears. He watches, entranced in a daze, devoted to any fate Grian’d weave for him.

Grian opts for a different kind of retaliation—he lets go of Scar's back and instead shifts until he can reach and— His fingertips meet Scar's ear and brush over it. 

Scar squeaks at the touch, fighting his urge to duck away, because he’s happy to allow this form of retaliation. “Hey— you—“ 

But Grian speaks first—despite his bashful fluster, he takes a breath and repeats the unheard sentence: "You're wonderful." 

Scar instantly goes silent, lips perking up into a goofy smile. “… You’re sweet,” he finishes instead of whatever he was originally going to say, darting his head to one side to uselessly hide his blush. He knows his ears are giving him away anyway. 

Grian traces the ears again, featherlight touch, and he hums musingly. They flick underneath his fingertips, skin warm. A grin spreads on Grian’s face, completely endeared to the sight, feeling enamoured and triumphant. "You're blushing," he notes—a ridiculous thing to say when his own face is still flushed, too. 

“Noooo…!” Scar protests, snickering. “I’m a very serious man! Never done such a thing.” But he’s giggling to himself as Grian further torments his ears, letting them twitch either which way happily.

Grian's grin doesn't disappear; it's only his flush that slightly fades, as he's settling into this. Into laughter and touching Scar, into something easy and soul-warming, a balm to all the wounds and aches. "And your ears are twitchy," he continues his observations, just to prod, just to hear Scar try to defend himself some more.

“They’re ticklish!” Scar whimpers, making literally no effort to move away. “And sensitive, I’ll have you know.” 

(He knows Grian knows.)

(He knows Grian is a little shit and loves it.)

Grian just giggles, giddy and free. His hands don't move away. "I know." (He knows Scar knows he knows.)

“Peskyyyyy—“ Scar whines, finally ducking away and cackling into Grian’s shoulder. “I am sooo nice to you and this is how you repay me!” It’s clear from his voice that he adores this attention, however, his complaints all for show.

Grian laughs, not minding that label one bit. He lets go of Scar's ears and wraps his arms around him. The compass is left in Grian's lap; he can still feel its weight, the sense of it a comfort, but most of him is focused solely on Scar right now. He wants to hold him and tug him closer. 

"You know what you've gotten into." Fond amusement laces Grian’s voice as he nuzzles against Scar's hair. A purr-like coo makes it way out of him, an odd sound that's all too content. "You wanna be my boyfriend? You get peskiness. That's the deal." He puts nothing else on the table, nothing to entice Scar into wanting to stay his boyfriend.

He knows Scar will take the bait anyway.

Scar grins, flicking his ears a few more times to adjust, then moves both of his own arms to wrap around Grian’s waist. “Ahh, well…” He clicks his tongue a few times, like he’s considering it. “Yeah, I can deal with that.” And he tries to copy the sound, as he often does, and while he nails the purr, the coo comes out silly and broken.

Grian chuckles, low and soft and warm. It does feel a bit precarious, but he tucks that away. "Okay. If you're sure." He dips his own head, melting into their hug, bringing his wings in around them, feathers softly and carefully slotting against Scar's back. "...This okay?" Grian asks quietly, almost nervous.

It’s more than okay, if anything it should be Scar asking that. He swallows a tad nervously, adoring the feeling of feathers tickling against some of his bare skin. They’re soft and they feel so lovely— the significance of the gesture is not lost on Scar at all.

“Mhm, yes, very okay.” He gives Grian a gentle squeeze through the embrace. “I like this.” A happy little hum. “I like you.”

Scar likes this. Scar likes this.

Grian's head turns into staticky mush for a moment, his bird instincts immensely pleased. He perks up, in a way that Scar is bound to feel, and his wings press a bit more tightly against Scar. 

It's weird. It's— There's that part of him that wants to be loud with warnings. That wants to overload him with all the sensations firing away from his feathers. All the pressure, the brush against something solid; he can feel each of Scar's breaths like this. And yet. And yet there's a wholly different part of him that's winning, shutting it out. Pushing it away. (He needs to.) (He has to.) (He can't ruin this again.) 

A sliver of anxiety slips through, but it only results in his wings tugging at Scar, demanding closeness.

And yet it's so fragile. Grian doesn't know if his brain won't short circuit the moment Scar moves too sharply or unexpectedly. But he doesn't know how to tell him, especially since that warning thought is so slippery right now—he's content and happy and warm. Pleased. Sickly in love.

He coos, the softest little sound. And then: "I like you too." He nuzzles against Scar, kisses the side of his head. "Love you." It's a very deliberate wording, and he thought he'd struggle, but it comes past his lips easily, a silky truth wrapping around them like his feathers.

Scar melts into his new feathery cocoon and briefly wonders if this is similar to what Grian feels like when he carries him— light, warm, secure. He keeps himself so still, trying to respect the fragility of this situation, careful not to tip the scales again, but—

His ears flick up rapidly, twitching as he confirms what he just heard, processes it, slowly and stupefied. “Hah— you—“ He tries so hard not to tremble, to squeeze, to do something rash and excitable like he so, so wants to. “You do??” he says stupidly, lifting his head to reveal his bright, practically twinkling eyes. “Like, really?” 

He can hear his tail whip onto the floor like it’s legitimately wagging, and he’s tempted to groan, but he doesn’t care. He’s absolutely beaming.

Nervousness settles like fire in Grian's stomach as Scar stutters and asks for confirmation—even though he can tell he's beaming, he's so overjoyed, and yet. Now that he has the full intensity of Scar's attention, it feels harder to repeat. A soft thumping noise lets him know Scar's tail is doing things, and oh that's adorable, and Grian tries really hard to soak in the fact that he is the one who made Scar this happy. 

It didn't even take that much. Just a little bit of vulnerable honesty.

An incredulous, nervousness-laced chuckle falls out of him. "'Course I do." He says as if it was obvious. As if it was the most sure thing in the whole wide world. 

But he thinks maybe that's not good enough. And he— Gosh. This is hard. 

He moves his hands to Scar's face, cupping it, even as his wings stay slumped across Scar's back. He wants to look into his eyes and make sure Scar understands.

His fingers brush Scar's cheeks, and Grian's breath stutters for a second. Grasping, he tries to regain control. His stomach flutters. He knows there's no smidge of rejection on the other end of this, and yet it feels so scary to say with no hint of doubt, putting it all out there. Baring his heart.

Still, he does it. Anything for him.

"Scar. I love you insanely much."

And oh, Scar can’t escape when heat spreads across his face, not with Grian holding him steady. But Grian’s eyes are so big and wide, so genuine, and Scar finds he doesn’t want to escape at all. Grian can see him flush. Grian can see how his ears flutter as if he was the one with earwings. Grian can witness how he wags his spectral tail and lets out a joyous purr as he presses his forehead close to his, breathing in shakily as he threatens to cry from happiness. 

It's mesmerising to see Scar’s reaction—all the subtle ways Scar's expression shifts, softens, brightens. The way his face flushes and his ears flick, the eagerness with which he leans forwards.

Grian loves him. Hopelessly, utterly, irredeemably loves him.

His stomach still flutters as he thinks that if hearing this makes Scar so happy, maybe he ought to tell him more often. Maybe he should slot this little phrase into his daily dictionary. Make sure it gets said.

“I thought— you, you said something last night and I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, but I hoped I had, because it made me so unbelievably happy and—“ Scar stops, blinking a few times as he mentally resets, almost laughing out loud as he registers just how far ahead of himself he’s gotten. “Wait, oh my gosh, I love you, too. I— I love you so much, Grian.” 

Grian’s thoughts jump to blankness as he hears the confession. He has just enough time to process and reset before Scar is saying it again and— For a hot second, Grian doesn't know how to exist. His breath catches in his throat and he holds it in as the fluttering in his stomach gets worse in all the right ways. 

Scar's giggling, nuzzling at his cheek, and it finally pushes a breath out of Grian, lined with a delirious, giddy laugh. It sounds wondrous and bright, if a little unsteady. (He wonders if this'll make him cry again, in a completely different way.) 

He wraps his arms back around Scar's shoulders and squeezes at him, needing that extra hold, just to seal this moment. To entrap them in it. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, ready to burst, as he lets the words bounce around in his head. 

And then he tips the giggles into a chuckle, sliding from delirium to something more controlled, loving but playful, just a touch amused and a whole lot fond: "My doting boyfriend loves me." And he giggles again, stupidly and freely and oh-so-very brightly. 

“I do!!” Scar cheers, thrilled and unabashed. Grian’s laughter fills Scar with absolute joy and he feels his fingers twitch and twinkle as a fresh surge of ecstatic magic thrums through his veins. He giggles just as brightly and happily, and he catches the puff of blue that escapes him just as sheer excess— there’s simply too much giddiness for him to contain. “And you love me,” he sing-songs, meaning it as a goofy tease, but it comes out all too eager and genuine. He can’t help it. That fact is absolutely incredible to him, even if it’s something he ought to have known— he did know, but to have it said out loud? To admit it freely and without fear?

It only further cements his decision, eyes flicking down to where the compass lies in Grian’s lap.

A home. Safety. Something real. Something worth holding onto.

Love.

Love.

Grian's tone shifts at Scar’s half-tease as he replies: "I do." Although some of the laughter still rings in his voice, this is different. This is more tender than anything else. A cottony reassurance, undeniably genuine.

Scar resists the full-body shudder his excitable magic shoots through him, but it still results in a buzzing thrill dancing across his skin, undoubtedly felt by them both. 

A staticky warmth runs across Grian's skin, a confusing and electrifying sensation that, once it reaches his wings, makes his feathers puff up in thrill. It's a strange but not unwelcome feeling, and Grian's pretty certain it comes from Scar's magic. He purringly coos against it, appreciative and happy with it.

“Now I’m absolutely feeding you,” Scar says, pressing each word against Grian’s skin in the form of a kiss, entirely over the top with each. “Man, not fair, I wish I could make dessert. A massage maybe? I could wash your hair again?” He grins wide against Grian’s lips after a particularly accented kiss. “I love you.”

Quietly, Grian laughs against the kisses. "I thought I was meant to be the dessert," he remarks, because he can't help the little tease to slip in. But Scar keeps distracting him with kisses, forcing another small giggle out of Grian as he confesses again. And, honestly, Grian doesn't want him to stop. Ever.

He pulls away just a little bit, just to be able to grin at Scar, eyes twinkling with far more warmth and joy than mischief. "So what you're saying is... You're going to spoil me?"

“I’m going to spoil you rotten,” Scar corrects with a cheeky smirk before reaching over to grab their very neglected food. He practically has to drape himself over Grian to do so, but it’s silly and he loves it because it’s more contact, more, more. Scar swears he’s on fire and he’s gladly basking in the flames.

"I should've done this a long time ago then. You mean I could've gotten spoiled this whole time?" Grian jokes lightly, even though he knows Scar always gave him so much in this world. Attentive, gentle, protective Scar.

A pit in Grian's stomach tells him how despairing it was without Scar, and how much he needs him in more ways than one. His expression shifts into something more quiet and somber as the memories threaten to crowd him.

He swallows thickly, pushing those thoughts out as he's being jostled by Scar. Instead, he anchors his attention on this: on Scar leaning over him, happy and content and in love with him, reaching for the food. He's so close and so warm and— And Grian cranes his neck and kisses Scar's ear. 

Words line on his tongue, more feelings than anything coherent, and he's probably about to say something sappy again, but his stomach saves him. (By growling loudly, demanding that food.) Grian sputters, hangs his head to hide it in Scar's shoulder. "You didn't hear that," he lets him know, feeling the burn of embarrassment slink over his skin again. 

Scar giggles as he pulls himself back to a proper sitting position, even if he’s just as hungry as Grian. “A lesser Scar may have brought attention to that, but I’m your doting boyfriend, so I heard nothing,” he says with a big goofy smile, offering a bite to Grian and resisting about half a dozen baby bird jokes.

Grian's eyes are wide as the food is presented to him and before he can catch himself, he chirps.

His face burns. Stupid avian instincts. He has a troubling thought that they might be a little bit more present now that they've established this whole boyfriend thing. (Scar's his mate. His flock. And in many ways, he already was before, but Grian feels it so much more acutely now—) 

He clears his throat, squints at Scar almost as if he was chastising him from luring that sound out of him—and yet he can feel the twitch of his lips as they want to grin, happy fuzzy feelings gathering behind his ribcage. 

He thinks he could indulge Scar. Solely because of the way Scar's beaming at him. (Who could resist?) He tells himself this is playful. Scar's being so endearing and excited to play his newly confirmed role of a doting boyfriend, and who is Grian to deny him this joy? 

So he takes a breath and discards his pride. It's surprisingly easy, even if it leaves a nervous tingling in its wake, making him feel oddly vulnerable as he leans in and opens his mouth to eat the offered food.

(It isn't the first time Scar's fed him; he did it when Grian was too sick, feverish enough not to really remember it, but he knows it happened.) (This is different.) (This is so very different.)

Scar has to press his lips together so, so tightly in order to stop himself from laughing. That sound was positively adorable and Scar would smack himself eternally if he were to scare future instances away by giggling. It's not even that it's funny, it's just the obvious unintentional nature of the chirp and the way Grian's face flushes red stirs something warm in Scar that just can't help bubble to the surface in the form of unbridled laughter. 

But he will resist.

Instead he grins wide in response to Grian's muted smile, delighted and amused, and pops the food into Grian's mouth with only the tiniest chuckle. 

So many things he has to resist right now. Giggling. Ridiculous nicknames. Kissing Grian. Buzzing his lips together to imitate an airplane. Kissing Grian.

He deserves an award for his restraint, truly.

As soon as the food is in his mouth, Grian pulls away slightly and finally allows his earwings to slink partially in front of his face, to cover up the fluster that's so clearly reflected across his skin. 

It's so magnificently telling, that this meal was made using their best ingredients. Maybe it wouldn't pass on hermitcraft, but here? After months of surviving off scraps? This is actually a treat. 

Grian's eyes twinkle over the fireglow-warmed violet of his earwings as they roam across Scar's face, finding anchor in the green of his irises. He wants another bite. He's not asking for it. No way.

"You—" He starts, and finds his voice hoarse. (A bird noise wants to fall out of his throat instead, and he has to fight it back.) His eyes flit away for a second, a fragment of a moment to regather himself, before they're inevitably drawn back to Scar. "You should eat, too," he murmurs quietly.

"Oh, of course, right," Scar says, grabbing a piece for himself. "I probably should have taste tested this first! But I got a little...carried away." He grins and tilts his head in a sort of apology before trying his concoction himself. 

It's not bad. He's certainly made much better breakfasts in his lifetime, but it might be up there with his best meals on this particular server. And, well, if they're going to settle down somewhere eventually (hopefully), then he's going to have to get a lot better at scavenging for good ingredients. 

"What do you think?" Scar asks, already picking up another bite and tapping it to Grian's lips like a menace.

Grian huffs, making sure to look troubled, even as he doesn't really mean it. In fact, he very happily obliges the tapping, biting down on the provided food.

"—think it's amazing," he replies with his mouth still full, contently chewing. He waits until he swallows to regard Scar, his whole expression softening. "Good job." And then he leans in and oh so very softly kisses scar's cheek. "Thank you." 

Scar's face brightens up again, pleased and lovestruck even from the tiniest affection. "Anything for you," he croons, then takes another bite so he can distract himself from how entirely genuine that sentiment is. 

Grian’s mind catches on the words. Lets them echo through him, nestle and root deep behind his ribs, gently seeping into his bloodstream:

Anything for you.

A part of him wants to do something silly—demand him to show it, by some absolutely ridiculous means. It wants to twist it into joke, into a playful amusement, into theatrics. A different part of him wants to just sink in, as if the words were cotton; he craves to willingly drown in them.

A wholly another part wants to protest and beg him to take it back.

"Anything?" Grian asks, his voice suddenly fragile, so very small. 

He barely has the time to let that word out before Scar's touching him, fingers tracing a tender, aching spot on Grian's neck. There's nothing that could stop him from shuddering at that touch; nothing that could stop him from closing his eyes and tilting his head slightly—baring his abused neck to Scar's roaming fingertips. 

"Mhm." The sentiment weighs a little too heavy for Scar’s liking, even if it's true, so he adds, even with his mouth full: "I think we deserved a treat. Rough night for some reason." He brushes his fingers over the bruising bite on Grian's neck before offering him another chunk of food. "...Crazy."

A timid coo escapes Grian’s lips before it merges into a laugh. "Crazy," he echoes. Maybe it's strange that this interaction grounds him, but he feels more sure afterwards, brightness returning to his expression until it morphs into something positively cheeky, promising trouble. "Maybe I like it rough."

A choked, aborted laugh escapes Scar's throat. He did not expect those words from Grian, so openly suggestive with that pesky smile on his face. "No kidding," he manages to say, grinning back with all of his pointed teeth as he chuckles at their absurdity. But he still offers another spot of food to Grian, because as rough as they both seem to like things, gentleness and care feel equally as important right now.

Grian laughs, openly and wildly. It's such a delightful sound, filled to the brim with life and amusement. Briefly, he ignores the offered food in favour of pushing it gently aside so that he could kiss Scar's lips—a chaste little thing, laced with pure endearment and none of the roughness he just spoke of. "I love you." The words are pressed against Scar's lips for him to breathe them in, before Grian pulls away and with a satisfied smile tips to collect his food.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna get over that fact," Scar says, ducking his head down in soft embarrassment, cheeks almost hurting from smiling. "I love you, too," he murmurs, suddenly a little timid.

Grian's smile widens even as he chews food, giddiness ceaselessly strumming at his heartstrings. He chuckles quietly, mouth closed, tipping his head slightly to catch Scar's gaze. "You know—" he pauses, just enough to swallow, allowing his smile to grow. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that." And then, after a beat, smile morphing into a grin once again: "My doting boyfriend." He giggles, his tease filled with fondness. And he doesn't stop himself this time either—he leans in and kisses Scar's nose. Just because he can.

Scar has to power through the intense endearment he's feeling just to get words out at all, but he pulls away dramatically, tutting at Grian. "Hey now, dessert is for later." But he steals a kiss on Grian's nose as well, because it's only fair.

The affection feels wonderful, so good it lets Grian forget where they are in its entirely. He hums, playfully pensive, and his hands abandon their position on Scar's shoulders. They drape more over him, reaching back, one hand tracing a path up the back of Scar's neck, fingertips gently raking the skin and delving into hair. "Yeah?" He teases, pesky, just because he is insanely curious for Scar's reaction.

Scar keeps his composure for the most part, but that spur of energy that shoots through him from his magic makes him shudder regardless. “Mhmm…” he says slowly, restrained. He presses another bite of food to Grian’s mouth in an attempt to save himself. “L–later.”

A small laugh slips past Grian's throat. He pulls slightly away, but his hands remain; the touch softens, turning to soft caress through Scar’s loose stands. "Promise?" he asks, just as cheeky and bright as before, and seamlessly shifts his attention to eat the offered food. (It tastes so good on his tongue, prepared with careful, thoughtful love)

Scar can’t help it. With that adoring touch threading through his hair, tempting him to slip into those deep purrs he only lets out on rare occasion (more often lately), he breathes out slow and heavy, drawn forward just a tad. His eyes are focused on Grian’s lips, shamelessly, and he leans in further before he speaks. 

“Anything for you,” he repeats, letting that purr slip through as he draws out his words. And then promptly takes a bite of food instead of acting on his growing urges.

Grian basks in the attention, and every subtle way in which Scar moves or breathes. It's wonderful to see, eyes roaming across Scar's features unabashedly, freely, taking it all in.

"Anything," Grian repeats again, still musingly, but this time it isn't a question.

He swallows the food and a wholly mischievous grin spreads across his lips, toothy and threatening, as he plays with the idea of saying something dirty to make Scar absolutely flustered. (The thrilling curiosity tingles down his spine. His feathers shudder, brushing against Scar's back.) 

His eyes shift towards the food instead, and he tips his head, obediently awaiting delivery.

That smile spells trouble and Scar knows it, tickled by the feeling of feathers at his back. Oh, he is far too weak for anything Grian could pull, so he’s thankful when Grian leans in for more food and happily obliges.

“You heard me,” Scar still says, because he’s also made of trouble and loves to tempt fate.

As he's chewing the food, Grian chuckles quietly, nothing but a huff of air through his nose, but so very clearly amused. He didn't think it was possible to smile this much while eating, and yet here he is.

His wings move again, brushing, tightening their little space and making it smaller. As he swallows, he leans in, face lightly nuzzling over Scar's cheek and temple before his lips end up hovering over his ear. "Mkay," he purrs, a sound verging on a coo. It still has those mulling tones, but it also spells a plan made entirely of mischief and daring. 

He doesn't actually voice it; Scar didn't ask. He presses a small kiss to the edge of Scar's jaw as he pulls back away, wings shifting and loosening too (although still staying put on Scar's back, oddly and unexpectedly relishing that sensation), without giving anything away. His eyes twinkle, and he's still smiling like he's made of trouble, just waiting for Scar to crack. (He knows Scar's curious.) (He's tempting him as much as they're both also playing with fate in this very moment.) 

"I heard ya," Grian reassures, faux-nonchalantly, and tilts himself for more food.

Scar splits the rest of the food evenly between them, although the task is difficult when Grian is so clearly hinting at something and Scar is far too curious for his own good. It's going to doom him entirely. 

(And so will the feeling of Grian's breath on his ear)

He offers another bit of food, but his eyes are narrowed, suspicious of that falsely innocent tone. He knows better than anyone that innocence and Grian do not belong together. "Do I dare ask what I may have just agreed to?" he questions, too dazed by the miniscule affections and how much of an effect they have on him to reconsider asking.

Grian bites off the offered food and then he abruptly pulls back—only with his upper half—dragging his wings up along Scar's back until they ruffle his hair as Grian laughs around his food. The wings come away, only briefly, flapping at the air before they settle around Scar's shoulder like a feathery cloak, giving Grian a moment to chew and swallow the food.

He looks at Scar and it's so clear the innocence has nothing to do on his face, and yet it's so stubbornly woven into his expression. Brightness wars with mischief in his grin. "Oh, Scar." That's all he says, and it verges on playfully pitying, but mostly cheerful. 

He's laughing around his words, only for his hands to pull back and cup Scar's face, thumbs fondly brushing across Scar's cheek as Grian's gaze softens. (Damn. He wants to tell him again.) (He's drunk on the fondness that swells in his chest.)

Scar was going to eat the last bite of food, but the feathery cloak offered to him completely short-circuits his brain and he drops it right back into the bowl. He can't even process the teasingly condescending tone Grian speaks to him with (which he'd normally dramatically pout about), because there are beautiful wings curled around him and suddenly his cheeks rival the red hues of the deeper violets in the end feathers draped over his shoulders.

His attention gets pulled back when Grian strokes his face and, gosh, he had to have been staring. He can't help it. He's in awe right now, like he's somewhere else entirely, somewhere where Grian willingly slots his wings around him, pulls him close like he's something so very dear to him. 

"You," Grian breathes out, his tone shifting entirely, into something mesmerised and bewildered and impossibly smitten.

"Wha... uhh," Scar sputters uselessly, dazed in the happiest way. "You... you have me." He blinks, somewhat confused in his haze of adoration. His words are spoken like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Because it is, really. The words slide out all too easily.

Grian giggles at Scar's dazed expression and words, but it also warms him immensely, in the softest, safest way. He almost slots his cheeky words away, because Scar fragments something in him, stuffs the edges with cotton, makes all of him softer and more harmless and—

All of a sudden, Grian doesn't know how to be.

He whines softly, a questioning little sound.

Scar says he has him. He? Has Scar? 

His hands still, thumbs pressing the lightest pressure against Scar's cheeks as he tips his head, confused. 

This shouldn't be confusing. But— 

Something about it keeps tugging at Grian and pulling him in.

He takes a ragged breath, and he remains a touch bewildered as he looks down. "You didn't finish the meal." And then, still looking down, he adds: "You can't have desert without finishing first." It's not cheeky. His tone has shifted entirely. It's laced with the tiniest bit of confusion as he wrangles with something unspoken.

Scar closes his eyes for a moment, really taking in the feeling of Grian’s hands on his face and feathers on his skin and relishing in it. He can hear that shift in tone, how softness nestles in between Grian’s words as he speaks, matching the gentle affections. Scar feels light, each point of contact a tiny spark. 

“Right,” Scar says, but he sounds so distant, almost delirious. He smiles as he opens his eyes, then shifts himself so he can press a kiss to one of Grian’s palms, because surely he’s still allowed a taste of his treat.

The kiss against Grian’s palm tingles, something wonderful and stitched with promises. Warmth spreads from that point of contact through Grian, and he shudders lightly; Scar can surely tell, because it reaches all the way to his wings.

Scar quickly pops the last piece of food into his mouth and sets the bowl aside so he can reach out to take hold of Grian’s chin, tilting his head back up so he can view his partner’s face. “Better?” he asks, still smiling, eyes still glossed over with boundless adoration.

Grian traces the path of the bowl as it is set aside, and it sparks something uncertain but pleasant in his guts. His eyes find Scar's, needing grounding; then Scar's hands are on his chin, and he's as captivated as he's captured, gently, tenderly, lovingly. 

"Mm." Grian takes in Scar's question, and only then it slots in that, yeah, actually, eating did make him feel better. But he also feels oddly off balance now. And he isn't sure how to express it.

He was going to tease Scar, once he finished eating. He was going to be pesky and curious, and push. But now he's left staring into Scar's eyes, searching for something that even he can't name. His hands slide down to Scar's front, palms resting on his chest, feeling his breaths.

"Better," he echoes in reply, but it doesn't sound quite sure. It doesn't feel quite anchored.

Both of Scar’s hands make their way to Grian’s face as soon as he has the chance. His thumb brushes over Grian’s chin, gently caressing now that he’s looking Scar’s way. The other rests against his cheek, fingers flitting over his freckles and those tiny feathers leading toward his ear.

“So I’m pampering you, right?” Scar asks with a bright twinkle in his eye, easing into a fantasy where they have time for such frivolous things. Because, right now, maybe they do. Enclosed in their own little world, bellies and hearts full, they truly might. “Spoiling you rotten?”

The touch makes Grian positively melt against it, leaning in without any defenses. Especially when Scar's fingertips reach the tiny feathers that lead to Grian's earwings, he's doomed. He closes his eyes, tips his head into the touch, and coos. (It feels so good. So right.) 

Scar asks some questions, and it takes a moment for Grian to catch up. When he does, he hums an affirmative, still leaning blindly into the touch.

Scar watches with deep endearment as Grian leans into the touch, mouthing a silent ”precious” in response when Grian coos so sweetly. He very carefully navigates around the scar across Grian’s face, tracing over the skin softly before placing a kiss there as well. 

Then he perks up, humming happily as he lightly rocks their bodies to either side to suggest they move. “C’mon then, I have some ideas.” And he tilts his head toward the water again.

Scar coaxes Grian towards the hotspring pond, offering not only a bath, but also a massage—a boundless sense of care as he works through Grian’s aching muscles, avoiding all the bruises and injured spots with deft fingers, showing his boyfriend what his hands are actually good for (Scar’s words, not mine). Making Grian melt into a groaning puddle, spoiled with the little they have, allowed to rest and recover and, for once, not be afraid.

For once hopeful. 

Indulgently, they decide to stay one more night, before inevitability forces them to move on: they need to scavenge and hunt for more food and resources. But decisively, they know a direction to go in:

North.

Towards their future.

[justsabian]

Humans are space.. pets? (Entry 11..?)

Masterpost

Ah, wow, this notebook has been through it, huh?  

This is Captain Crow.  It has been…  Well, as I established in past entries, it’s hard to track time here, but, it has been a significant amount of time since I last documented my findings here.  Some things have changed since my last entry.  I’m unsure how I’ll go about summarizing it.  This notebook is nearly out of pages, and my old pen dried up a while ago.  If I can recall correctly, it ran out of ink shortly after my last entry, while I was trying to illustrate a page for my hashed-together field guide of what I’ve learned of this planet.  I lost this notebook shortly after, much to my dismay.  You wouldn’t think such a thing would be possible, given how sparse the furniture is here, but I made the mistake of taking it with me when the Lumarians took me outside after my last entry, and as fate would have it, I ended up losing it out there.  I was just trying to make documentation easier, but in the end I ended up preventing it all together.  Ironic. 

Now, this whole thing has been transcribed, I’m sure, to be read elsewhere, but if it’s being read in it’s original state, I’m sure you can see that these pages are well worn with dust, and being written on with something akin to charcoal.  I found this notebook just today, blown up against the side of the fence of this yard, and I’m filling these last few pages with a writing utensil I’ve crafted myself with the resources available- It’s not that the Lumarians don’t provide ample enrichment, they just don’t seem to be able to provide specifically the things I actually want or need.  I am lucky it doesn’t rain here, or this whole thing would likely be in a completely unreadable state.

Given how little space I have, I cannot write in detail the experiences I have had since my last documentation.  However, it is safe to say that it has been more of the same of what is written here- Most of my days are spent inside the ‘house’, or roaming the yard (they let me out freely now- the fence is not scalable nor can I go under or through it; I did try), learning what I can about this planet.  Without the ability to document, I’ve been committing what I can to memory and continuing to attempt to communicate my desire for writing supplies to the Lumarians.  Unsuccessfully.

I suppose it could be considered a good thing that things have been uneventful.  It gives me more time to put together a more thought out plan of escape.  Hopefully I will be able to find a new form of documentation, either after I make my way out of this place or by somehow making something from what I have.  The Lumarians are trying to provide me with enrichment, but their idea of that is a stuffed animal of a dog and a ball of yarn.  Also, a screwdriver, for some reason?  I’m not sure where they get their ideas of what humans like from.

Running out of paper, 

Captain Crow.  𓅪

{Authors Note Below}

Hhahaaha heeyyyy guyss..... I have no excuses. But I come bearing an entry! And a lore excuse for the gap in them!

I apologize immensely for the super long wait. However, I do live by the principle that late is better than never! I figured, rather than letting this thing fall to the void out of embarrassment at my absence, you guys would probably prefer something, even if it's been ?? Two years since the last real content?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! I have some things planned for the next entries and I do have a projected plotline for this whole thing, I just need to get it written. I appreciate the patience of everyone who's stuck around this long and showed so much enthusiasm under my last post, even though it didn't contain any real content for the series.

See you in the next one!

{Taglist <3}

(you can comment or message me to be added or removed!  Thank you all so much for your support!)

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[restlessmaknae]

enchanted [mark lee]

You have one goal when you apply for the yearly contest to get into the most prestigious wizardry school: to win just like your parents did 25 years ago. However, bumping into prince Minhyung who seems to remember you from your yearly visits to the palace seems to shake up your plan a little bit.

➳ Characters: prince!Mark x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: fantasy, fluff, magical kingdom au, magical contest au, magical school au

➳ Words: 19.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of injuries, burn marks, pressuring parents

➳ A/N: This story is dedicated to @dat-town. Merry Christmas, dear! ❤️ You've already read my little (?) letter, but really, thank you for everything! I love you so so so much. ❤️

Plus, I've gotten carried away, but this story was inspired by your prompt for the request event: “i’m not blushing” with mark lee

Check out the masterpost for the Four Kingdoms' United School of Elemental Magic series!

➳ NCT taglist: @s00buwu, @winterbeartaehyungbestboy, @sweetjaemss, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @squiishymeow, @heyditseeey

You felt the air around you shift. You shifted it, the current leaving goosebumps on the skin of the judges as the temperature in the room dropped. You welcomed the familiar tug in your stomach as you gathered the threads of magic around you, pulling it towards you and taming it to your own will.

First was the change in temperature, then you sent out whooshes of air - towards the shelves, towards the candles on the judges' table, sipping the light from them, leaving the wick bare, then towards the windows, earning crackling noises as if something from outside wanted to come in. It was actually quite true for you were feeding on the energy of air, the oxygen in the room, but it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

A few seconds later, the crackling stopped as the two huge windows of the room flew open violently, and the otherwise peaceful breeze from outside wafted into the room. You held onto it, and it physically felt like holding onto it as if it was a rope and you were pulling it closer. As you sipped more and more air into the room, your body was trying to keep up with more and more energy rushing through you. It was a feeling akin to running - it was both freeing and exhausting at the same time. You pushed yourself more and more until you let everything accumulate in one big tornado in the middle of the room. It danced around like flames of a candle or that sweet treat vendors enjoyed making while children watched in awe as the dessert took form in the shape of a small tornado.

The difficult thing wasn't creating the tornado but rather not let it lose shape and eventually lose control. A wizard's magic didn't lie in its impressive complexity or array of skills, but in the way they could control whatever they possessed. At least, your parents said so. You concentrated on your determination to prove to them how worthy you were to wear the family name, how worthy you were as a female, and channelled it into the tornado in front of you, into gradually narrowing it until it was the size of a loaf of bread. Then, with a whip of your hand, the gust of air disappeared completely.

You didn't really register that you were sweating all throughout your demonstration until you could feel drops of sweat roll down your cheeks. You didn't waver though, you merely let out a long sigh and blew away the stray locks that fell into your eyes.

"Thank you for your demonstration," the woman on the left said. Your parents had told you about her - Kim Taeyeon, a member of the senate of the Four Kingdoms -, said to be able to tame all four elemental magic without any of them overpowering the other, so definitely a rare case. The man on her left was Kim Jungmyeon, a highly praised wizard professor from the Earth Kingdom. There was another man and another woman, but in your state, you couldn't recall their names.

"Thank you so much for the opportunity," you bowed deeply, and when you straightened, you tried to translate their facial expressions, but you couldn't for they masked their emotions perfectly well, no sign of being impressed or being disappointed about your performance either. Maybe it was for the better.

"We shall get back in touch with you within 5 days no matter whether you are chosen or not," professor Kim Junmyeon announced briefly, and that was enough for you to know that it was the end of the first round for you. Somehow, you noticed, the flames were back dancing on the top of the candles as if you had never put them out, and you wondered whether it was his doing.

You thanked them for the information and bid your goodbye. Only when you left the room, did you allow yourself to wipe the sweat off your face. As you walked down the corridor, your features softened, but you steeled them when you turned a corner and walked past the next contestants lining up.

When you had been lining up yourself, you had seen others coming out angry, frustrated, disheartened, and some had even come out crying. Some had come out boasting that they would make it for sure, while others like you had to act as if you weren't debating inside whether your efforts were enough.

To be honest, girls were looked down on when applying either way. Since a part of a woman's magic left her body when she gave birth to a child, some saw women as easily disposable wizard trainees. Some highlighted that it was a waste of time and effort to train them as their magic would lose some of its power upon childbirth, so when it was time for the yearly contest to get into the Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic, there were always glances thrown around and nasty whispers whenever a girl showed up.

Despite your expectation to receive the same attention as you had done so when you had walked up to the entrance of the institution, no eyes were on you. Everyone was looking behind them, whispers half-muffled as their eyes darted between the corridor and a certain someone at the end of the line. As if they parted around him, you could see clearly who it was when you walked past him.

But he...

"Did he get into trouble?"

"Does he want to prove that he is as great of a wizard as his parents are?"

"Why did he apply though? There are always places reserved for royal children…"

The questions on the other contestants' minds were mirroring your own because you didn't understand either why Lee Minhyung, the golden child of the royal couple in the Air Kingdom was there, lined up for the yearly contest to study at the wizardry school managed by the Four Kingdoms. The Four Kingdoms weren't always so friendly with each other, so the fact that the royal families, the senate and the appointed professors could all work towards training the winners of the contest who would then study there for 2 years before becoming either advisors for their respective kingdom's royal families, consuls in the senate or professors in training at the school was symbolic enough of how big this application was.

On the other hand, the royal children were always excluded from the first round, meaning that they didn't need to apply and demonstrate their abilities in the first round. They were always selected in the 200 contestants who would go onto the second round, and no one questioned why because they supposedly had the best teachers in their own kingdoms and their own families were founders of the school.

So why… why was Lee Minhyung still there?

As the tale goes, the Four Kingdoms of Elemental Magic were once a united kingdom. They were built in a square shape, and there were no borders between them. Wizards in that era were said to have been the most powerful as they had access to all the four elements and they could tame their magic as they wished. There were schools for magic back then as well, but they were more like training schools, not educational institutions with a highly standardised application process. Everyone could reap the benefits of highly trained wizards.

Nonetheless, access to all meant that some took advantage of the situation, and wizards without properly controlled powers or those who felt like they were better than others used their magic to intimidate, hurt and manipulate others. Crime bloomed along the streets of the united kingdom, and it went as far as assassinating the then ruling King, leaving the Queen and her two sons to take control of the situation.

That was when the borders were put it place and the square shaped kingdom was divided into four small squares according to where each element was the most powerful - the Air kingdom with its windy weather and peaceful lowlands, the Earth Kingdom with its rich woods and lush fields, the Fire Kingdom with its majestically overtowering volcano and long nights that forced towns to provide constant light for visibility and the Water Kingdom with its high quality drinking water, mesmerising lakes and bustling seafood markets.

Magic became something to control as children were tested every year to see if they possessed any magic and if they did, what kind, so that they could be put into schools according to their abilities. Soon enough, wizards with the ability to tame all four kinds of magic became more and more rare, and even those were kept close to the royal family or the senate that was put together to combat crime, rebellion and manipulation of one's power in all four kingdoms.

You knew that given the circumstances, it was the best they could do, but you felt like it was unfair to those who didn't have enough money to send their children to a good wizardry school, those who could not afford to move closer to the capital city to make use of their talent but rather had to grind somewhere in a small town to be able to put food on the table each and every day. Not to mention those who wanted to travel and see the different kingdoms as it was prohibited for the common people to visit another kingdom but their own.

The gap between the rich and poor widened, and everyone was monitored, everyone was administered in order to avoid repeating the past. Vendors could only bring their products to the borders where the border officials took them and gave them a predetermined sum of money, families were torn apart due to the implemented borders, and the four kingdoms appointed the area on the border of all four kingdoms where once the capital of the United Kingdom had been ‘the Circle’. The Circle gave home to the newly built senate building, the council buildings for each kingdom to discuss matters between them when there was no need to include the senate, the newly built Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic where each element could be well studied and practised as the magic was still the most powerful there, and the homes of those regularly staying and working in the Circle.

One of the reasons you applied for the school's yearly contest was because you had ideas how to change the current system, and as a 20-year old person, let alone a girl, you had no voice. Even if your parents were both parts of the senate representing the Air Kingdom, they didn't want to listen to you. They always said that this would be too costly, that would be too risky, so ultimately, nothing changed. The other reason was to prove to them that you were worthy, that you could be as powerful as them, both selected as part of the final winners in the contest 25 years ago.

"I've heard that this year, there were more than 500 applicants," your mother stated matter-of-factly over breakfast on the day you were supposed to be notified of your result. "And prince Minhyung was one of them. I definitely didn't see that coming from the royal couple, sending their child to the first round like that," she continued, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Not that you had any say in applying because despite the fact that you had wanted to apply yourself, you knew all too well that your parents wouldn't have accepted a no as an answer either.

Even if you had gone to a good school in the Air Kingdom, this was different. The fact that there was a contest to get into the Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic was proof enough that it was a huge deal; learning not just about your own magic but about the others as well. The schools in individual kingdoms weren’t as equipped as the united school, and the professors working there didn’t usually practise magic other than their own kingdom’s because those who did worked elsewhere - mostly somewhere in the Circle.

"Well, it was not against the rules. Their excludement from the first round is a privilege, not a duty," your father added between two spoonfuls of porridge.

"I've heard that the prince wanted to come on his own accord, that his parents didn't know about his decision until the very end," you blurted out, earning two pairs of wide eyes on you. You didn't usually believe the gossip from the streets and markets, but you had nothing else to do since the first round of the contest as you didn't have classes because your parents were sure that you would make it, so you had the past four days off. If you were to be selected, you would have a month-long competition ahead of you with daily classes and practices anyway.

"I doubt that's the truth. That would mean prince Minhyung is rather irresponsible, and that's not what I've heard of him," your mother shook her head as if she was disapproving of the whole situation.

Or rather brave, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue. You didn't know why you felt the need to defend the prince, but he hardly looked like someone who had been there just to cause trouble and drama. He had looked like he wanted to be there, excited yet slightly nervous at the same time as he had been nibbling on his lower lip, his big doe eyes shining joviantly - he had looked just like everyone else.

Either way, you were about to find out what kind of a person he was because when the letter arrived from the Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic, you were notified of your successful application and the time you would need to move into the dormitory for the second round.

"As expected of our daughter," your mother put a hand on your shoulder upon the news and gave you a triumphant smile. You weren't sure though whether she looked so proud because she felt like she was the reason for your success or because she was wholeheartedly happy for you. It had been a long time since you had heard genuine congratulations from them. For a long time now, it had always been 'as expected of our daughter', and truthfully, you didn't know how to feel about that.

When the day of your moving arrived, you were rather grateful to leave. After all, it would be the first time you would leave home for more than a few days at a time, and after the last few days of tormenting lectures about controlling your magic, concentrating on your energy levels and keeping out all distractions, you were ready to bolt. It was in a way very helpful to have highly influential wizards as your parents, but more often than not, it seemed like magic was the only thing they could talk about. In their eyes, if you didn't become a wizard like them, you would be a nobody.

No wonder you didn't shed tears like some others when bidding goodbye to your parents at the entrance of the school. You had to go through a couple of people with a couple of questions before you were given directions to your dormitory room and a key. The wizardry school had three main buildings: one for classes and training with specifically crafted walls and windows, some sound-proof, fire and water-proof while others budding with green spaces and individually designed structures to mimic slippery hills, sweep mountain hills and such fields to prepare you for possible battlefields; the second one for socialising including the dormitory with three floors of rooms, common areas and a grande canteen, and the third one for everything else: the teachers’ offices, an infirmary, storage rooms and a small shop where you could buy supplies for classes as well as little treats for yourself if you were still hungry after the meals in the canteen.

Knowing where to go and how equipped the school was due to your parents working in the Circle came in handy on the first day when assisting teachers and volunteering students were hustling and bustling with the administration rather than walking you to your rooms, so you took it upon yourself to find your room with the help of the signs indicating the different floors.

Realistically, you knew that housing 200 youngsters for a week wouldn't mean a room on your own even if you were to have your own room during your studies at the school if you were selected in the final, but you were still surprised to find two girls already in your room when you arrived.

"Oh, you must be from the Air Kingdom. The air around you is literally different," the girl who introduced herself as Dayoung mentioned as she made room for you to put down your baggage on the shared desk. She had long, strawberry-blonde hair and an almond-shaped face with a friendly, almost teasing smile and a laid back vibe.

"Or I'm just stern," you shrugged your shoulders, and they took your joke well as they both burst into laughter. Wizards from the Air Kingdom were said to be intimidating and strict, but not in the rebellious, wild way like those from the Fire Kingdom, but rather in a cold, unfriendly way.

"They say we're totally weirdos, so don't worry," Yoojung added joyfully after letting you know that they were both from the Fire Kingdom. They didn't go to school together, but their parents knew each other, so they had become quite the friends over the past few years. It was amusing to look at them as a pair - Dayoung with her blonde hair and Yoojung with her dark brown hair, the latter shorter by at least a head -, but they seemed like really good friends.

"Do you know anyone else coming from the Air Kingdom?"

"Uhmm..." You wondered out loud upon hearing Yoojung's question. You didn't have a lot of friends because of your strict training schedule, not to mention your parents telling you to focus on making connections with important people rather than simply friends. Needless to say, you couldn't care less, but you didn't even have a lot of opportunities to make friends, so you knew of those mostly whom your parents told you about. "There are two boys who went to the same school with me, and they've been accepted as far as I know...Prince Minhyung is coming, too," you listed, though the latter was obvious while the former boys they couldn't know about. Yohan and Yongha were both pretty talented and chill back at school, so you didn't think they would make any trouble.

"Oooh the royal kids," cooed Dayoung, and exchanged a glance with Yoojung.

"Did I miss something?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Yoojung protested with heavy hand gestures at the same time as Dayoung hollered: "Oh yeah, I've got a story for you."

It turned out after a little bit of bickering that Dayoung and Yoojung were both coming into the dormitory building at the same time as prince Hendery - from the Water Kingdom - and his so-called best friend Xiaojun did so, and Dayoung could swear that the prince had his eyes locked on Yoojung from the moment they met whereas the girl in question told her that she was simply being delusional. You could listen to their stories and bickering for hours, you felt, but then a boy showed up at your door, and blinked around, confused.

"Uhmmm.... I guess I got lost?" The boy, all raven-hair, boyish features and big doe eyes said, and for a moment, he seemed like a boy you could see on market days running between the different stalls, not the prince from your own kingdom.

You could already see Dayoung opening her mouth - to probably question if he was the so-called prince Minhyung -, so you saved everyone from the embarrassment and asked:

"Which room were you assigned to?"

"Third floor, fifth room to the left... or maybe it was the right?" He giggled nervously as the question hit him and scratched his neck like a sheepish boy. It was so in contrast to what you had heard about him - the golden child of the royal family, talented in everything from magic to public speaking and horse riding, in training to become one of the best wizards in his kingdom - that you felt your lips curl upwards in amusement.

"The boys' rooms are in the right wing as far as I know," you shared with him, and Dayoung agreed, telling a whole story about a boy named Seunghun who was in front of her in the line, and who was handsome by the way, and who was supposed to be on the third floor as well and in the right wing.

"Oh, okay, thank you," he bobbed his head in gratitude, then opened his mouth to say something only to close it a bit later. You all looked at him, puzzled, before he managed to speak up again.

"Haven't we met before?"

The question was directed at you, and both girls turned their heads towards you, eyes hungry for a story. You blinked at him, bewildered by both the fact that he remembered you and that he asked about it in front of others.

"My parents are members of the consul in the Air Kingdom and members of the senate. We give our blessings to the kingdom each year at the Festival of Light and Air," you told him, and even though he could have lost count of all the different faces, a hint of surprise crossed his eyes.

"Oh, I remember! Your parents always said that we're the same age. No wonder you're here," he articulated, totally in awe, his eyes lighting up.

You could see from the corner of your eyes that the girls were smirking beside you, but you didn't dare to look their way. You were glad that Minhyung pulled himself together quickly, and cleared his throat to bid his goodbye.

"Right wing then, thank you. See you around!" He smiled radiantly before turning around and leaving. There was a moment of silence before the room erupted with noise. You had to close the door to keep it in, and even though you couldn't say much more about your brief yearly encounters with the prince and his family when you all bowed towards them and said the same words to bless the kingdom, the magic of air and the royal family, you already had a feeling that you would be in good company here.

The first week was exhausting and noisy. It started with an introduction to the professors, a tour of the buildings, and the rules that you must follow (such as not hurting other contestants and not using magic on others, occupying trainings rooms to practise your magic only when a professor approved your request, and going to your rooms before curfew which also prohibited different contestants to sleep at another’s room). There were exactly 200 20-year-old students including the royal heirs, and even though you didn't meet everyone because the classes were held in small groups, meal times were for everyone, so the canteen was full of chattering and bantering.

You usually went to the canteen with Dayoung and Yoojung, but not all of your classes were together. That meant that you had even more to talk about because Yoojung had classes with prince Hendery, and despite the fact that Dayoung wasn't there, she was sure that the prince was all heart eyes for her friend.

You, of course, were teased by them because you attended a class together with prince Minhyung, and you actually talked. You didn't know whether it was because you were the first familiar face he caught sight of, but he asked if he could sit beside you, and you said yes. You didn't talk a lot though, but he seemed pretty grounded for a prince, and he didn't boast about his skills even though he was really good. Due to the fact that your main element was the same - air -, and you were learning how to tame the opposite one - earth -, you shared this class because the second round would be about demonstrating how you could control an opposite element as well as yours.

You could see how serious and focused he was when he was gathering and controlling his magic, but you could also see how easily distracted he was by outside noises. Indeed, the first round was held in silence, but you weren't sure that it would stay that way. After all, out of the 200 students, only 100 could pass the second round, more or less 25 from each kingdom. After that, 80 out of 100 would go on, and then the last two rounds’ numbers of winners wouldn’t be based on a specific number, but rather the number of students who fulfil the given challenges, so it could be 20 or all 80, but usually the average number of winners were around 30-40 each year.

It was a rule to give equal chances to all the four kingdoms, but it wouldn't be realistic to always stick to a predetermined number of students who could pass from each kingdom because there might be better students in a particular one and less gifted ones in another one.

However, having to calculate with around 25 students passing in your own kingdom's group made you feel nervous when the day of the second round arrived, and you were all waiting for your turn, gathered together in the canteen.

"How are you feeling?" Prince Minhyung inquired with his warm brown eyes widened, and you toned down the urge to push aside his fringe that was falling into his eyes. He was, in a way, a grown-up boy with hints of boyish features, and the duality of him - both his appearance and his personality - made you feel like you were in the wrong. Like you should have not paid too much attention to these details, yet you did.

"A bit nervous," you answered truthfully as you looked around yourself, seeing everyone in your group in the same white, loose pants and long-sleeved shirt. Each group had a different outfit and a different colour - white for Air with loose clothing that the air could sweep into, blue for Water with water-proof, body-fitting clothes, burgundy for Fire with inflammable jackets and sporty pants while Green for Earth with hiking boots and field clothes.

"I don't think you have anything to be nervous about. I'm sure you'll do great," the boy remarked, gentle and supportive as usual, and you didn't know what it was about him, but you wanted to believe him. So you thanked him before inquiring about his side.

"I'm a bit nervous, too. I mean, I've practised it enough, but it's like... it's like a scary test. I've never had to demonstrate my powers to anyone like this after preparing for a week. I've just had classes where I did all these exercises, but they were nothing like this," he elaborated, suddenly a lot more serious than before. You hummed, taking in his words. You didn't know what you had expected for the child of the royal couple to learn, but it wasn't this.

"That's why you've applied? To push your boundaries?" You guessed tentatively because you had no idea whether that was a button you could push or not. All kinds of rumours had been going around about why prince Minhyung was there in the first place, but you hadn't asked about his reason in the past week. Truthfully, you hadn't felt like asking about it.

On the other hand, the boy's features softened upon your question, and his eyes lit up, twinkling with something akin to gratitude.

"Yeah, exactly. I felt like my teachers went easy on me just because I am the heir to the throne, and I wanted to do it like everyone else from the start. Plus, I don't think it's fair that you have to apply for the first round and royal children don't. I have nothing to do with my ancestors' decision from a hundred years ago," he stated firmly, and now you could see that rebellious side of him that you hadn't caught on the day of the first round. You could see the fire in his eyes and hear the determination in his voice. Maybe it was due to all those lessons about public speaking, but you had a feeling that he could do everything he put his mind to just by the way he worded himself.

"Well, I know some people who believe that you did the right thing," you shared with a small smile, dissolving the solemnity in the air. The boy smiled back at you, and it felt like a gentle breeze swaying a field of poppies when he did so - so soothing, so reassuring.

"Thanks," he mumbled rather coyly, and you could watch this sight for so long, but your name was called, so you had to go.

With one last glance in the prince's direction, you headed towards one of the training fields outside.

After the usual formalities and rules of the demonstration, you did what you had done last time, but pulled the energy of nature around you just as well. Fallen leaves and trunks were dancing in the tornado you created until you let them touch the floor gently as if nothing had happened. Then, you pushed a current of air into the ground, so hard that it pierced through the surface, leaving a small hole in front of you. A hole, that once you let go of the air's energy, you mended with the energy of nature at your feet. It was still more exhausting to use it and recognise the pull of earth rather than the pull of air, but you had learned how to begin to tame each elemental magic before, at least the gist of it, so now you focused on deepening that knowledge. And it seemed to pay off as the ground beneath you mended itself, leaving no ghost of a crack behind to let anyone think that it had opened up before.

"Thank you very much for your demonstration, Miss Y/N. Please, wait for the end of the second round to get to know about your result," one of your professors who was a part of the judges announced, and you nodded, thanking them for the opportunity.

There was a tremble in your legs and a prickling feeling in your hands when you stepped inside the building again. You tried to shake it off, but it must have been the thrill of it all because the feeling faded only when you managed to calm the crazy beating of your heart. It also helped that prince Minhyung finished soon afterwards, so you could share your experiences in the hall where all those who had already finished gathered together. Dayoung and Yoojung also arrived a bit later, and you guessed that the so-called prince Hendery and his friend did too because prince Minhyung seemed to know him, and Dayoung kept giving her friend those googly eyes.

The rest of the waiting went by fast with more and more students accumulating around your little group, and soon enough, the representatives of the judges announced the results.

You realised how different it was when you had received the results through letters compared to now when the names of those who passed were called out. You squealed when Dayoung's and Yoojung's names were read out, and you gave prince Minhyung a wide, bright smile when his was, too. Then, there was Seunghun from the Fire Kingdom, Serim from the Water Kingdom, Yeosang from the Earth Kingdom and...

"Y/N from the Air Kingdom!"

You could feel your stomach drop in relief when your name was called, and you were embraced by both Yoojung and Dayoung at the same time, so much that you almost didn't even notice prince Minhyung's supportive little smile directed at you. Just almost though.

With the announcement of the selected ones, the theme of the third round was also announced. You would need to demonstrate your current ability of controlling three different elemental powers - so a stepping stone from the second round -, but this time, you couldn't prepare your own demonstration, you had to do what the judges would ask you on the spot. It would be both nerve-wracking and reassuring because they would ask more or less the same set of exercises from those who learned how to tame the same three elemental powers, so it would be easier to compare the students. At the same time, you were afraid that you wouldn't understand their request or it would be totally out of your league, and you would fail miserably. The thing is, even though Dayoung's brother had been a contestant two years ago, they could strictly not talk about the content of the contest, plus they were supposed to change up the structure a little bit every now and then, so you had no idea what to expect.

"I'm saying, we should focus on our classes and making memories rather than worrying about the end result," Hendery chattered at the canteen during lunch when he heard your worried words.

During the week and with the diminishing number of people, your little group of Dayoung, Yoojung, Minhyung, Hendery, Xiaojun and you had become quite solidified. The princes also asked you to call them by their names instead of their title since you were friends now. Though seeing Hendery and Yoojung's friendly bickering, you also thought that they might not have been just friends much to Dayoung's joy.

"If I were you, I wouldn't worry either. All royal kids are still in the contest," Yoojung pointed out rather frustrated, but it was because she had messed up her demonstration during the second round, and she had been down ever since.

Truthfully, you could totally understand her. If you wanted to be honest, you were terrified of dropping out - not because it would hurt your ego, but because you didn’t know how you would face your parents afterwards. You knew that Yoojung’s father was teaching magic at a school in the Fire Kingdom while her mother was part of their consul, so she had the same fears as you. Despite passing the second round, she had received a blow to her self-esteem, and even though you and Dayoung had tried to cheer her up, she hadn’t yet regained her usual cheeriness.

The air around you froze for a moment, and despite not mentioning your different backgrounds in such a bad light before, it was true that the royal applicants usually made it to the last two rounds safe and sound. You didn't want to jump to conclusions because your own parents were rather influential, and they were a part of the senate who managed the school, but you wouldn't be surprised if you weren't treated equally. After all, that first round exemption privilege was also not a thing of the past.

"You should have just said that my charms are irresistible, that's why I'm still here," Hendery shrugged with a teasing grin, and slightly nudged Yoojung's shoulder with his own. It could be seen how the girl's features softened a bit, but she said nothing before turning back to her food.

The slightly tense atmosphere was lingering in the air for the next few days, and Yoojung was still not back to her usual self. So when she didn’t come back to your shared room after classes one day, you decided to look for her in your dormitory building while Dayoung was looking for her in the canteen, the infirmary and such.

The dormitory had a tower on top, one that was surrounded by a circular terrace from where one could see the whole Circle. You liked to come up to calm your nerves, so that was the first palace that came to mind, and as you took the steps to the top one after another, you wondered if you would be like her if you messed up during a round. It’s not like it was a matter of life and death, but you knew how much pressure influential parents could place on their children - as if one single mistake or faltering weren’t your own, but it was a dismay to your whole family.

When you reached the top, you were about to reach for the doorknob when you caught sight of Yoojung and Hendery talking on the terrace through the transparent glass door. They were standing close to each other, and when you looked closer, you realised that Hendery was fumbling with his hands as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, but he kept reaching towards the girl who seemed to be oblivious to that as her eyes were unfocused on anything in particular - she was just staring ahead of herself.

Knowing that Hendery was a good guy, and that your friend was in good hands, you decided to go against interfering, and descended down the stairs. You reached the bottom and you were about to turn the corner when you quite literally bumped into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled apologetically even before it could settle in who he was. When your eyes found the prince’s own shining orbs, you merely let out a giggle.

“Me too,” Minhyung added with a nervous scratch of his neck. He blinked at you as if he didn’t know what to say, and you noted that his eyes were exceptionally bright that day, twinkling vividly surrounded by the light of the corridor.

“Were you headed for the terrace?” You inquired just in case, and he nodded, albeit a bit timid. “Yoojung and Hendery are there, and they seemed to be having a moment, so I didn’t want to interrupt them.”

“Oh cool, great! I mean… it’s cool that they are there because I was just about to look for Hendery because he didn’t say where he went. But it’s also cool that they are there together. They seem to get along well.”

You could only agree with him, but it was rather adorable how he was tumbling upon his words even though he wasn’t the one in question who was having a moment. So why was his face getting redder and redder? Was it still the little bump’s aftermath?

“Yeah, I think so, too. Yoojung seems to like him.”

“As in like like him?” The boy’s eyes widened to double their size, his jaw hanging slightly. You bobbed your head, finding his bewilderment rather funny. “Oh my gosh, I think he likes her like that too, but he’s intimidated by her, so he doesn’t want to say anything. It’s like… you know… like… how there are some guys who are all cool and casual, but when they have a girl they like, they become different. It’s that vibe for me.”

The way Minhyung blabbered with wild hand gestures was quite cute, but the more he talked, the more he seemed to get carried away with his words, and in the end, you didn’t even know how you ended up getting to know stories about one of his palace guards’ love stories (a young man named Johnny who seemed to flirt with anyone and everyone), but there you were, listening to him with his lively intonations, watching his eyes shine and lit up whenever you reacted to his words, and it was just too surreal.

You were talking to a prince after all, but he was talking about the people around him at the palace as if they had been his neighbours. Maybe that’s why you enjoyed his company so much: apart from the warmth that he spread, he was a very down-to-earth person who didn’t judge anyone by their social status, but rather by their personality. Not all royalty were like that. One of the princesses had also joined the competition, and no one seemed to mind that she had not passed the second round because she had looked down on everyone around her.

In the meantime, you moved from the bottom of the stairs to an abandoned couch in one of the common rooms, time passing by quickly beside the boy. He was good at talking, but he was also an excellent listener, and you could always feel that he listened attentively for he always asked questions when he needed clarification or when he was merely curious about your side. This is how your reason for being here came up.

“Partly, I had no choice because of my parents, but I also came here because I wanted to. I feel like there are a couple of things that the Four Kingdoms could change to make magic more accessible for everyone and to regulate borders more efficiently, but my voice can’t be heard just by being my parents’ daughter. So I hope that I can be one of the students who can study at the school in the end, thus I can gain even more knowledge and let my voice be heard when I become a part of the senate or the consul.”

You weren’t afraid to share it with him because it was him after all, but at the same time, when he didn’t respond for a few seconds, the terrifying thought came to mind that your words might have implied that you weren’t happy with the way his parents ruled the kingdom. So you immediately turned to face him, but instead of shock being written on his face, it was actually awe painting his features.

“Wow, that’s so cool!” He blurted out, still a bit awe-struck, when he managed to pull himself together for a proper response. “From what you’ve just said and what I’ve heard from you already, I know that you would be able to make change in our kingdom and our systems,” he said so with a smile that could outdo the sun, and there it was, the warmth that you were speaking about. He radiated this gentle, calm, serene warmth, and it felt like a blessing that you could be a recipient of it.

“Really?” You voiced out, feeling a bit shy because those were big words, and hearing that from a prince - despite him being as humble as ever - meant a lot to you.

“Yeah, really. Absolutely. Totally. 100%,” Minhyung exclaimed, and you let your lips curl upwards as your heart swelled.

And maybe for the first time since you had applied, you could believe that there was someone else who believed in you - not because of your previous achievements like your parents, but genuinely because he knew what was the reason for you being here -, and that was enough reassuring to get you through until the third round.

One of the most difficult things about taming a power other than the one you had been born with was finding the right amount of control. For instance, you, who had come from the Air Kingdom, had a hard time regulating your control over fire - the third of the powers you learned to tame ever since being here - because fire was wild, rough and heavy compared to air. Taming air required a certain tenderness because you needed to know the right time and energy to hold onto it and shape it as you wanted whereas fire was unpredictable and holding onto it didn’t mean that you could hold onto it longer than a few seconds. It could easily blow out of proportion if you weren’t careful, but too little energy meant that you couldn’t keep the fire alive.

That’s why you were so afraid of the third round, and it didn’t help that the judges asked the most fire exercises from you out of the three powers you could be asked to demonstrate that day. It was reasonable though since you had already demonstrated that you could deal with air and earth to the extent that they had prepared you for, but still… the magic of fire still felt so unfamiliar to you, and a wizard was as good as its familiarity with its magic.

Despite your best efforts, you faltered when it came to a ball of fire that you were supposed to put out bit by bit. You had had the most difficult time with it during preparatory classes during the week too, and it didn’t help that it was the last exercise they asked of you. You lost control over the thread of magic, and the fire was put out sooner than you could think about how to resurrect it. There was no way you could save that, and you needed to gulp back a cry of shock when the fire vanished in a blink of an eye.

You could barely hear the judges thanking you for your efforts and asking you to join the others in a separate room. You could barely register your friends’ questions when you caught sight of them in one of the rooms because you were still replaying that moment of failure in your head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve totally messed up my air demonstration, too. I nearly made a judge fly from his chair, but come on, I’m used to fire,” Dayoung tried to reassure you, but if anything, the thought of both you and Dayoung being eliminated from the contest was even worse than just you messing up. Even if you didn’t make it, you would want them to make it, so you weren’t nearly as laid-back as her.

The others had similar experiences, so it seemed that demonstrating exercises that the judges asked of you instead of putting together your own demonstrations posed a challenge, and trying to showcase three types of elemental magic was tough for everyone, especially given that you had only one week to get to know the other two elemental magic types apart from your own one.

However, it was exactly the time limit that made this contest challenging, and that would signal to the judges who would be worthy to study at the school in the future. This whole contest was supposed to mimic how you could be challenged in the future - at the wizardry school and after finishing the 2 years here -, so you knew that you couldn’t always prepare to demonstrate your powers in front of a panel of judges, and you couldn’t expect to pass a physical ability test with flying colours when you weren’t used to using your power while exercising (something that you had every other day ever since being at the school), but it was frustrating to know how little it took to shake you and sway your power.

Little by little, your group assembled, and everyone had similar experiences - messing up exercises, losing control over their power and not being able to finish tasks in time -, so it seemed that it was a challenging round for everyone. Though since you knew that it could only get more difficult after this round as each was a bit more challenging than the previous one, you had to face the fact that the contest wouldn’t be as easy as you had thought before based on the success of the second round.

It felt like a lifetime before the judges panel gathered the remaining 100 contestants to announce the ones who could go on. There were familiar names and not so familiar ones, but your heart heaved a sigh when your friends were called one after one. Minhyung, Hendery, Xiaojun and Yoojung were all given the green light and asked to wait in the next room where the theme of the fourth round would be announced, so you stood back with Dayoung to wait for the rest of the list.

The more names were called, the tighter the knot in your stomach grew, and you felt weak in the knees when there were only 3 more spaces for students left, and both you and Dayoung remained. Out of the 100 contestants, only 80 could pass this time, so you prepared yourself for the worst, mentally preparing a speech to tell your parents after they would send you home.

“Miss Y/N!”

You felt like you were in a daze when your name was called, and you didn’t even have time to reciprocate Dayoung’s supporting words, you were already ushered towards the next room. Yoojung nearly jumped onto you when she saw you, but your little group’s joy didn’t last long because not long after you came in, the door of the room closed, and a blue-haired boy named Yeonjun from the Water Kingdom came in with the judges.

“Where is Dayoung?” Yoojung exclaimed, her eyes still holding hope but leaving room for doubt. You looked around wearily, but there was no way she could have gotten in without either of you noticing, so you had to come to the conclusion that she was… eliminated.

Your heart sank. You realised that ever since you had met the others, you didn’t think of the possibility of you not finishing the contest together. No matter how unrealistic it might have been, you had just not pictured it before, so now coming face-to-face with the fact that Dayoung didn’t make it was more than painful, it stung more than it would have done so if you had prepared yourself for this scenario. Oh, how foolish you had been…

“I appreciate that this was a challenging round for all of you,” one of the judges announced, dragging you out of your stupor. You shook your head, trying to concentrate on his words, but he seemed far away, everything around you seemed far away. “So I would like to congratulate you all even more because you passed the third round,” he continued, and there was a round of applause thundering through the room, but it wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as after the second round. Only about a third of you were there compared to when you got to the dormitory, and it showed.

“The fourth round will be a physical ability-induced one. Similar to the tests you have every other day during gym classes, you will have to go through an obstacle course that tests both your physical abilities and your magical powers. So I advise you to become really familiar with the obstacle courses that the school offers, if you haven’t already, because one of them will be your demonstration next week,” he paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. “The equipment itself won’t change, but the judges might alter the magical elements a bit according to their own judgement, and you need to pass under the given time limit. More details will be revealed during your first gym classes, but those who can fairly pass under the time limit can move onto the next round, there won’t be a cap on the number of contestants who can proceed this round,” he explained in detail, and there was a murmur going through the crowd of contestants. No one seemed to particularly like the so-called gym classes even if they were supposed to prepare you for a possible magical fight, but to have it as the theme of the next round made it all the more nerve-wrecking.

Not that you could grasp the situation in that moment because you were going through many different emotions all at the same time, and it was similar to taming each different magical element you had practised before - it was difficult to put your hand on the fine line between them as it all seemed like one big mess when you were overcome by all of their energy. You still felt like you were just watching the events unfold from an outsider’s point of view when the crowd was prompted to move back to their rooms, both because you made it and both because Dayoung didn’t.

You had never given much thought to how quickly the losing contestants were dismissed because you had never walked anyone to the gate of the school to bid your farewell.

However, you only had a few hours to help Dayoung pack before the gates would close for the day, and you would need to head back to your dorms. Even though the girl wasn’t as disheartened by her departure as you all were, the atmosphere wasn’t as light as it used to be.

“Win the contest for me!” She made you promise with a wide smile, and all of you - Minhyung, Hendery, Xiaojun and you - nodded fervently. If anything, you would try even harder from now on because you didn’t want to get used to saying goodbye to the friends you made here, and you didn’t want to put the others through this again. “And promise to write to me when you’ll be attending the school, and please, pull a few pranks on Wooyoung for me. That guy annoyed the hell out of me,” she huffed by the end, and her faked annoyance made you crack a little smile. Gosh, days would be less lively without her and her googly eyes at you and Mark as well as at Yoojung and Hendery.

Since visits weren’t allowed between kingdoms, the only way you could contact anyone outside of your own kingdom was through letters. They were also inspected at the borders, but they could be passed through border control, so that was the only way you would be able to communicate with her from now on. However, until the end of the contest, letters weren’t allowed either to minimise the chances of anything getting out about the themes of the rounds, so if you were lucky, you could only connect her again when you made it to study here.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him for you,” Hendery promised with a wink, to which Yoojung almost smacked him because she had been going on about how he should have acted like a prince instead of constantly teasing others (the girl included) and making trouble. Hendery always argued that here with you all at least he could be himself, just a boy, not a prince, and that seemed enough for Yoojung to bite back her response.

“I’ll miss you all, but don’t miss me too much, focus on the contest,” Dayoung warned you jokingly before you all embraced her in a big group hug. One by one, everyone bid their goodbye to her, and when it was your turn, you hugged her tightly once more, but before you would let go, she whispered:

“I’ve wanted to tell you later, but look around yourself every once in a while, Y/N. Someone might be falling in love with you,” she told you, a secretive grin on her face when she leaned back, but before you could ask her whom she meant by that, the guards by the gates notified you that you should say your last words to each other because it was time for curfew.

So you did let go of her, but Dayoung’s words rang in your ears every now and then, and you felt like you might have become a bit paranoid as you were trying to figure out who could like you. You didn’t receive flirtatious glances from boys at the canteen - well, Yeonjun was flirty, but he did give any girl a smirk who walked past him, so he didn’t seem like a likely candidate, and when you met Changbin’s eyes one day, he looked like he would kick you out of the contest sooner than have any romantic feelings for you -, and the only boys who were around most of the time were Hendery, Xiaojun and Minhyung.

You knew Hendery had eyes only for Yoojung, and the girl seemed to slowly realise her own feelings for him, Xiaojun was Xiaojun… and well, there Minhyung whom you thought was cute, warm-hearted and who could make you laugh and smile even after Dayoung’s departure, but he couldn’t be falling in love with you, right? He was a prince after all. Even though princes didn’t have to be with princesses, they should at least marry someone of high rank - a member of the senate, a consul or someone of such importance -, and you weren’t there yet. Even if you were, what were the chances of it working out? Both your parents and his parents seemed to be really strict, so that would most probably not happen.

Plus, ever since a guy provoked Hendery and Minhyung once during lunch, accusing the contest of discrimination because you were still in the contest with the boys (he didn’t seem to know of Dayoung already being eliminated), you wanted to keep your distance a bit. You didn’t need anyone to punch Hendery in the face again over something like that.

“I can’t believe he didn’t fight back,” Yoojung murmured during the following gym class when you were behind the three boys, and they were examining the bruise on their friend’s face. The girl was literally throwing daggers with her own eyes in the direction of Jaeeon who had provoked them, but the boy in question didn’t seem to take note of her glares. He had been given a warning that if something like that happened again, he would be sent home immediately, but that wasn’t enough to calm the petite girl’s nerves.

“You were the one who told him not to cause trouble because he’s a prince. He would have gotten into more trouble if he had punched back,” you reasoned as you moved along with the line, and while it was true that Hendery would have brought more disgrace to his family’s name if he had been the one to throw the punch, you wouldn’t have blamed him either. You were glad though that Xiaojun and Minhyung had been there to keep Jaeon off the prince, so the fight hadn’t escalated, thankfully.

Gym class was tough either way without any added drama because everyone was taking the obstacle courses seriously since none of you knew which one would be used for your testing in the fourth round. The fascinating thing about these obstacle courses wasn’t that they were made up of all these different hurdles, but how they stayed laced with magic. The technique beyond that was confidential, but you doubted that your teachers were working on keeping the magical parts of them alive - flames coming from both sides of a bridge that you were supposed to cross, water licking your feet as you were trying to jump from one rope to the other above a pool of water, a hill partly made of a steep side while the ground was shaking beneath you and such - whilst watching over you. Which meant that either they were enchanted in a way to store the magic in them or… you didn’t really know. That was beyond what you could imagine, and your parents didn’t tell you about such things.

One by one, you were supposed to cross the obstacle courses while using your powers to tame the magical elements or to bend them to support your journey along the way, and while you definitely improved from your first gym class, you still felt so out of control at certain parts. You would have a time limit in the fourth round, and that added pressure to the whole obstacle course, and when your mind was occupied with time ticking by, you couldn’t focus as much as you wanted, and that added more oil to the fire, and it kept repeating in a vicious cycle.

However, since you had witnessed the scene of Hendery being punched in the face and Jeeon provoking the boys because of their social status, you felt this bubbling rage inside of you which actually came in handy when it was your turn for the course that day. You channelled all that frustration and annoyance and bittersweetness into pulling the threads of the magical energies around you, into concentrating on the hindrances at hand, and sending enough power to the specific parts along the way to help keep you going - putting out the flames, tempering down the water beneath your feet, stopping the shaking of the ground and pacifying the wind around you. It worked because you managed to beat everyone’s record so far, but it also resulted in you being exceptionally weary after finishing.

“Oh my god, Y/N! You were on fire!” Yoojung hollered beside you when you made it through the given obstacle course for the day. You tried with a grateful smile, but it turned into more like a wince when you felt surges of pain shoot through your legs. Oh yeah, the all too familiar consequences of the adrenaline rush were kicking in, something that you had not yet gotten used to.

You took a few steps closer to the girl who was holding out a flask of water in your direction, but your legs felt wobbly, and you would have fallen if it had not been for someone catching your arms.

You looked up, half-expecting someone who was less of a stranger, not the boy whom you had been trying to stay away from since yesterday, but your heart betrayed you as it heaved a relieved sigh. It was silly, your brain told you, you only knew Minhyung for almost three weeks, you couldn’t have known him that well, and yet, your heart told you that you would be safe beside him, he got your back. But why? You had been searching for people’s hidden intentions all your life because your parents warned you not to make friends but rather allies because it was a cruel world out there after all, and yet… you could not find a possible hidden intention behind his big doe eyes twinkling and his lips forming the words, his brows furrowed solicitously:

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you bobbed your head, your eyes wandering to your arms that were held by Minhyung’s own, safe and sound, steady yet gentle. You were so used to holding yourself up, holding your head above the water, and not accepting anyone’s help like that, that you were dumbfounded as to what to do next, how to put an end to this.

“Get moving, jeez,” someone behind you rumbled, but before you could turn around to see who it was, it was probably that someone who pushed past with their shoulder crashing into yours. You had no time to react, your legs moved forward automatically, yet Minhyung’s didn’t, and you ended up falling down… together. To be precise, you falling onto him, and him holding you up by the waist.

And then, your heart betrayed you yet again as it skipped a beat. Even though your lungs had been on fire just a minute ago, now they were on fire for a different reason, and it was difficult to grasp what it was when all you could see was the depth of his orbs like tiny lakes with clear surfaces yet mysterious bottoms. All the outside noises seemed to fade away, your surroundings numbed as your heart raced alongside his as if the obstacle course had not ended yet.

Pushing aside the confusion regarding your own feelings, the one thing that you noticed and managed to blurt out was:

“You’re blushing,” you noted, your lips slightly parted, and despite having seen him flushed beside you and around you, you somehow felt like it was new… it was different this time.

“I’m not blushing,” the boy objected, his face taking on an even deeper shade.

“You are, dude,” Xiaojun called, and when you recognised his voice, all the hustle bustle of the gym class and all the outside noises came back at you in full force, making you feel dizzy. Somehow, falling onto him seemed almost serene compared to the mess around you.

You were both up to your feet in no time, and despite your friends’ stares and teasing words, you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the twinkling sensation that the boy’s touch left on your skin - it was as if he had marked you permanently, and you couldn’t get it off yourself.

It wasn’t only the room that you shared with Yoojung that became quieter without Dayoung’s presence, but the halls also became quieter, less lively. As if the walls could talk, students usually kept to themselves, and since you were scattered across different floors, the diminishing number of students seemed more striking. Now, you caught sight of the guards stationed by the entrance to the dormitory instead of being occupied with the conversations with your roommates, and the corridors seemed wider than before.

Everyone seemed tenser than usual, and it wasn’t limited to your little group only. Aside from Jaeeon, there had been a girl who had accused Gahyeon’s senate member parents of bribing the jury and had sent a streak of water at her who had managed to dodge it thanks to her quick reflexes, but the girl in question had only received a warning. You didn’t understand why, but your parents had warned you that it would be tough with all of the contestants wanting to make it to the final, and had told you that there were quite nasty incidents in the past, so the organisers had already seen a lot. That’s why disqualification was only after a warning or after a life-threatening move on a contestant’s side.

You didn’t think too much into it though, not until you were walking back to your room alone after practising for the fourth round, and the fire of the torches on both your left and right was suddenly put out. Since they were always on, it could only mean that someone put them out.

You listened to the approaching steps, trying to put your hand on the direction the sound was coming from, and as you turned around, you caught sight of Jaeeon walking towards you, his silhouette illuminated by the lights that he hadn’t yet put out.

You raised your chin, unwavering in the face of danger, because no matter how much Jaeeon thought that he had the upper hand, you weren’t a fragile little doll either. You felt your fingers prickling with the same kind of electricity it usually did before you unleash your magic, and just as Jaeeon was about to come to a halt a step away from you, you lit up the torches by your side. That much you could already summon with your ability to tame fire.

The guy let out a scoff, borderline amused, his eyebrows elevated slightly. His whole stance screamed hunger, hunger for control, hunger for a challenge, hunger for winning. Even though you weren’t supposed to use magic outside of practices or classes, let alone around others to manipulate the contest, you had already seen instances when it had not mattered, so you knew that the currently empty corridor wasn’t a completely safe space either. You forced yourself to stay calm though as you turned around, ready to get away from him - to ask for another student’s assistance or a guard’s help who could be patrolling the corridors at this time around.

“Are you really running away, little girl?” Jaeeon accused you, the nickname prickling at your skin. The implication behind his words sent an unpleasant chill down your spine, but you reminded yourself that it was exactly what he was trying to do: to trample on your ego, to make you question your worth and bravery. “You don’t have your little prince friends to protect you, and mommy and daddy aren’t here either to save you,” he continued relentlessly as he caught up with you, and even though you didn’t reach the end of the corridor, you were halfway through it.

“A girl like you is only wasting her time here. You should prepare to get married and pop out some kids, not to take someone’s place in a contest like this,” he added when you still didn’t speak up, and you bit down on your tongue to hold back what you were about to say. You knew that he wanted to rile you up, and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to see you give in, but still…

“Is it that hard for you to accept that a girl dared to beat all of the boys’ records in an obstacle course yesterday? Do you feel like by spitting this nonsense, I might feel scared and would rather pack my bags and leave?” You threw your questions at him as you threw him a side-glance. He was so annoyingly full of himself and the fact that he felt better only if he could bring others down made you sick to your stomach.

“Besides, a girl can enter the contest just as much as a boy can, and it is not against the rules,” you recited as you kept your gaze ahead of yourself instead of the boy walking beside you, but it was like talking to a wall. Just to prove to you that he didn’t play by the rules, the boy reached for your wrist and made you turn towards him.

“Do you think anyone cares here?”

His words were dripping with anger and frustration, but as to why he directed it towards you - when it wasn’t anyone’s fault that he felt threatened by those better than him even though he was the son of the head of the senate - was beyond you. Accusing you of still being in the contest was like speaking against himself too, but it might have helped him to sleep better at nights.

That didn’t mean that you had to put up with this, especially not when you felt his grip around your wrist getting… warm, and you winced when you felt the searing touch of his. He was using his fire magic on you, the burning sensation coming from his fingers directly, and you knew that he was stronger than you, so you didn’t have a chance to escape his grip, not when his touch was literally burning in the meantime.

Nevertheless, your rage regarding his audacity of using his magic on you was stronger than the pain you had to bear, and you felt a bolt of energy rushing through your body as the window beside you flew open, and you sent a gush of wind towards the boy. At first, it wasn’t strong enough to make him tear away, only to surprise him, but the more currents of air you could collect, the stronger your magic became.

You faintly heard someone calling your name in the distance, but all your focus was on the thread of magic inside and outside of you, and you shut everything else out. You concentrated on gathering all that power and channelling it onto the boy until you managed to push him away, making him fly a few metres before landing on the floor with a loud thud a few metres away from you.

You felt your legs wobble a bit after using all that energy in such a short span of time, and you might have fallen to the ground if someone had not held you up, framing your body. You had no more resistance left in you to push him away, but you were lucky that you didn’t because you got to know who he was a second later.

“Enough!” A thunderous voice could be heard in the silent corridor, and you looked up at the professor who taught you how to use the magic of earth, and who now assisted you to keep your feet on the ground. You saw another professor by his side, a woman who taught you how to train your mind to channel your powers, and they both seemed to be incredibly furious.

“Mr Park, you should have known better than to attack a student yet again. No matter who your father is, he isn’t here to save you, but the director will be waiting for you in his office. If you try with anything else on the way, just know that professor Choi and I were here to have heard how you provoked Miss Y/N. We could see how she tried to protect herself against you when you were breaking the rules yet again.”

“But professor Kim, I think she broke one of my ribs!”

“Speaking up in the right moments and keeping quiet when needed is a forte, Mr Park, and it seems that you do not possess it,” professor Choi warned him and she made her way towards the boy who was tossing on the ground like a kid who was throwing a fit. She had never seemed this intimidating during classes, but now you would have been afraid of her if her glaring eyes had been on you. Jaeeon seemed to get the message though as he got to his feet, though reluctantly and holding onto his side, but before he could even raise his arms, professor Choi snapped her fingers, and the boy’s arms were tied back by the sheer force of… magic.

Your jaw almost dropped, but you were too weary to react properly, so you just blinked at the duo as they were getting further away and eventually got out of sight after turning a corner. You still didn’t manage to pull yourself together when professor Kim started asking questions and ushered you towards the infirmary where a kind lady tended to your burn marks.

Even though you heard about healers who possessed a specific kind of magic that could undo such wounds, you had never met one, yet now you were blinking at your burn marks slowly fading and eventually disappearing.

“I… wow… thank you so much!” You blurted out, still in shock, but even her magic couldn’t erase the phantom feeling of the burning sensation around your wrist. You reckoned that it wouldn’t go away easily.

The lady smiled at you in a friendly way before putting some kind of cream on your skin, then wrapped your wrists in a bandage.

“Keep it on for the next two days, it will help to soothe all layers of the skin because I can only tend to the outer layer. Use the cream twice a day too, in the morning and at night, and it will heal completely afterwards,” she instructed gently, and you bobbed your head fervently as you received a pack of fresh bandages for changing and a tube of the said cream from the healer.

Professor Kim stayed beside you the whole time, but he didn’t say anything while the lady was tending to your wounds. He only spoke up when you were out of the infirmary, and he told you that they would station more guards in the corridors, but you shouldn’t worry because Jaeeon would surely be disqualified for trying to hurt you. Serves him right, you thought to yourself, but truthfully, so much had happened in such a short span of time that you felt like relief was a far away feeling in that moment.

“You were really strong back there. I have not seen your magic in such an intensity before,” professor Kim complimented with a fatherly smile of his, and you bobbed your head gratefully, albeit a bit timidly.

Well, it seemed that when you were in the face of danger, your magic didn’t abandon you or drain you, but rather, it empowered you, and despite the fact that it took Jaeeon to be disqualified, you could now believe that you were here for a reason. That you would be able to make a change while standing up for yourself and standing strong.

Needless to say, everyone got to know about your little incident pretty quickly because Jaeeon was forcefully sent home, and he sure made a hell of a show out of it as he sulked beside the guards who accompanied him through the corridors and outside the gates. The teachers also assembled the students to remind you all that rules had to be kept or else the consequences would follow. In their announcement, they briefly summarised Jaeeon’s wrongdoings including his recent attack which meant that all eyes were on you and your bandaged hand in an instant. Additionally, in order to set an example, they tightened security and stationed more guards along the corridors of the dormitory and even along the corridors to the training rooms.

Not that it mattered when your little group acted as if another Jaeeon could jump out from a drawer and attack you. It didn’t matter that you told them that you were fine, no permanent damage was done, and you could take care of yourself from now on just like you had done so before.

“My parents warned me that this competition would be a matter of life or death for some, so I should brace myself for such atrocities. I didn’t expect anything less,” you told them over dinner that night, and the chopsticks made a loud snapping sound when Yoojung dropped them on the table beside her bowls.

“Yah, why are those words something that you must accept? No contest should ever make you fear for your life. No contest is more important than someone’s life. This is not the war that had broken apart the United Kingdom of Magic,” she fumed like a bull, and honestly, in that moment, you couldn’t tell whether she was furious at you, your parents or at what had happened between you and Jaeeon.

It’s just… you knew that the girl meant well, but you had to give it to your parents that this contest brought the worst out of some people. Some of them really acted like their life depended on whether they made it to the finals or not, and if they had parents like you did (or the opposite, they had nothing, so they had to prove themselves and the others that they could make it despite their disadvantageous background), you would understand them. After all, part of the reason why you were here was because of your own parents.

“Yoojung’s right. You shouldn’t keep it to yourself if you’re frustrated or hurt. Just because these things could happen and might have happened in the past doesn’t mean that they should be the norm, that they shouldn’t change,” Minhyung reasoned once the silence that fell over the five of you didn’t seem that heavy anymore. The boy’s words were accompanied by fervent nods of the other two boys and your roommate as well.

“What can I do about it though? I can only hope no one else tries to attack me again.”

“Let us help you. You might think it’s silly to accompany you everywhere, but we definitely should do so for the time being,” Minhyung continued, his big doe eyes shining brightly. Even though you had tried to keep your distance from him and the other boys since their own incident with Jaeeon, it seemed futile now. You were too weary to push them away, and honestly, after what had happened earlier, you were glad to have allies by your side.

“Yeah, we’ll be like your bodyguards,” Xiaojun hollered as it was the best idea ever, but Hendery laughed his words off as if he had been joking. Xiaojun glared at him, slightly offended, but the other boy didn’t seem to notice.

“You? A bodyguard? Please, even I’m stronger than you.”

“What? No way! In your dreams, maybe.”

“I’m better at the obstacle course than you are, dude. It means either I’m physically stronger than you, or I’m a better wizard,” Hendery flashed him a grin, one of his eyebrows elevated in a teasing line, and Xiaojun could only huff in response since it was the truth.

“Oh god, they are worse than a group of girls,” Yoojung muttered under her nose and averted her eyes from the continuously bickering boys. She prompted you to eat up before your food would get cold, and you nodded. You didn’t have it in you to protest, and with Minhyung’s worried eyes still on you, you didn’t even want to make him more concerned, so you finished your dinner while listening to the bickering of Xiaojun and Hendery, something that managed to lift your mood a little.

As promised, the boys accompanied you and Yoojung to your room, and little did you know, that became a habit of theirs. At least until Xiaojun was sent home because he didn’t manage to finish the obstacle course in time (but he was pretty close, Hendery consoled him, taking back his words that he was better at that than the boy when you bid him your goodbyes by the gates), and so your little group was reduced from 6 to 4 whilst the number of contestants went from 200 to 32 in the past 3 weeks. Only one round was left, but you wondered just how many of you would pass the final round or be sent home.

Just like when Dayoung had departed, Xiaojun’s lack of presence was also palpable. Hendery couldn’t tease anyone since Minhyung wasn’t the kind he could bicker with because he wasn’t one who talked back (even playfully) to others. Minhyung frequently turned his head to the empty seat that was left behind when you sat in the canteen, and Yoojung seemed somewhat more protective over the remaining three of you.

You talked a lot with the girl at nights after you were done with your training for the day and after curfew, more or less serious topics arising in the darkness under the watching eyes of the moon. She was so similar in the way she was raised up, and her fears were also similar to yours, and it felt good to be understood by someone like her. It felt like you were less alone, especially after what had happened with Jaeeon and especially after how you had already needed to say goodbye to two of your friends.

Even though you hadn’t had any friends before, you would consider them your friends now, and it broke your heart that you might not end up making it to the wizardry school together. After Dayoung and Xiaojun had lost in the previous rounds, you didn’t dare to hope for a happy ending for everyone. Not when the next round’s theme was to compete against each other 1-on-1, but you would only know who your opponent would be on the day of the final round. You didn’t want to go against your friends, but there was still a chance that you might do so considering that there were only 32 of you left. So you not only had to worry about having to use your powers on another contestant, but also that it could be Hendery, Yoojung or Minhyung.

No wonder your nerves were more and more frazzled the closer you were to the day of the final round. Hence, you decided to escape to the terrace of the tower two days before the final round, looking over the buildings around - the senate building, the houses provided for the senate and council members, the building with the infantry and the canteen. It was crazy to think that 5 weeks almost passed by since you first entered the contest, and you were about to wrap it up soon.

A month ago, you had entered the gates for the first time that were now covered in the dim light of the torches attached to the walls and guarded by two muscular men, and you had been determined to make it to the wizardry school. Since then, you had managed to make friends, you had encountered enemies who had attacked you, and you had pushed your magic to the limit many times. You had been physically and emotionally weary, and you had wondered many times whether you would be enough, whether your magic and willpower to tame other kinds of elemental magic would be enough to be like your parents - to be a winner of the contest.

A month ago, you had wanted nothing more than to be over with it because you had been sure that you wouldn’t get along well with others, and you had been set on focusing on learning and wielding your magic only. After all, being part of the contest and learning from the highly influential wizards who were chosen as professors were already something that others could only dream of.

Yet now, you wanted nothing more than to stop time and enjoy being around those who had grown close to you because there was no guarantee that two days from now on, you would all stay together. After that, who knew when you would see each other again, especially with those who were from different kingdoms.

“Mind if I join you?” A gentle, all too familiar voice asked, and you snapped your head to look back at the sudden visitor. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even realised that someone else had showed up by the door to the terrace.

“Sure,” you replied, still a bit dazed, as you averted your eyes to the scenery in front of you. You heard Minhyung’s footsteps getting closer, and eventually, he sat down beside you.

He just sat there for a while without saying a word, his heart probably as heavy as yours. You couldn’t help but wonder whether he was also bitter about the contest ending because it was such a different experience for him compared to his time at the palace. A few days prior, he and Hendery had discussed how free they felt here because people didn’t watch their every move  here, they weren’t princes and heirs to the throne, they were contestants just like everyone else. Minhyung had also blurted out that this was the first time in his life he felt like he could be completely himself, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about that ever since.

“Are you scared of the final round? Of whom would you be up against?” You wondered out loud, hoping that he didn’t mind your question. Whenever your little group was together, it never came up, although you were sure that each and every one of you was pondering over the same. It was just difficult to bring it up when most probably everyone was anxious about the possibility of going against one another.

Minhyung looked at you, his big doe eyes wide in wonder and contemplation. Some said that the eyes were a replica of one’s magic, and it might have been true in the boy’s case because his eyes were bright like stars in the sky, and the onyx-black colour of them was like an endless, bottomless wonder. His orbs radiated warmth, and when he looked at you like that, it felt as if a gentle breeze embraced you. Yet, there was strength behind that warmth, strength that promised to keep you up, to reach out a hand if you were to fall down, and strength that would be able to move mountains if he wanted to.

“I’m just afraid it would be one of you. Other than that, I’m just sad it’s coming to an end. As much as it was difficult to endure, it gave me many good memories that I wouldn’t have had living at the palace,” he responded, his voice barely above audible. Maybe it was because of the early autumn breeze that danced around you two or because he wasn’t that sure about his answer, but he was quieter than usual. The looming uncertainty of the contest had its effect on everyone.

You bobbed your head nevertheless, taking in his answer. You couldn’t relate to him because you hadn’t grown up in a palace, but your parents had kept you pretty secluded from others apart from sending you to a wizardry school to tame your air element and outside of extra practices with other wizards. You had been told to be wary of everyone because you could never know what their intentions were, and even though you had long realised that your parents were over exaggerating, you had given up on making meaningful connections. That is until you had come here, and it had dawned on you that there was a whole world outside of magic no matter how much magic meant to you.

“If you had the chance, would you want to be reborn as someone else, not as prince Minhyung?” You found yourself asking after a few moments of silence, your own thoughts regarding your experience growing up making you curious about his side.

Minhyung clicked his tongue, unsure what to say for a few moments. Then, he let out a somewhat resigned sigh as he came to a conclusion.

“It’s difficult to say. I’m glad to have the life I have, but it has its restrictions, you know,” he shrugged as if he was fine with it, and you didn’t have a reason to question him. Then, he turned to you with his whole body, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “What about you? Have you never dreamed of being a princess?”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment, you were so shocked by his question. Truthfully, you had never really given yourself the chance to imagine yourself as a princess, maybe because you had always been so occupied with who your own parents were. That’s why you merely let out a wholehearted chuckle upon his question, a joyous sound that was swept up by the autumn breeze passing around.

“Oh god, no,” you shook your head, even just the image of you in all those fancy, tight-fitting dresses making you shiver. That was not a life you wanted for yourself. “I don’t think princesses have it any easier than me. Besides, they have to fake their smiles all the time, and I don’t think I could do that for a long time.”

“Fair point,” Minhyung tilted his head, his facial expressions returning to their previous solemn state, a sign that what he was about to say would be genuine and raw. “I think we have it bad at times too, but princesses…” He shook his head, and you could swear he shivered a bit. “They have it even worse. You too, women, do have it harder. I’ve always thought that might be an exaggeration, but I’ve heard enough here during the contest to know that it’s not,” he confessed, and his words took you aback.

Since he didn’t have a sister and his mother - the Queen - was treated very differently than an ordinary woman living outside of the palace, he might not have known just how difficult being a woman with magic was. There were significantly more men in the kingdoms’ councils and in the senate, and there were more male professors here as well, simply because women were supposed to give birth to children and with that, a part of their magic lived on in their children’s bodies, meaning that people believed that they were less powerful than men. Which wasn’t always the case because mothers with less magic than before could still be more powerful than men who didn’t tend to their magic, but people believed whatever they wanted to believe. Your mother had also fought hard to maintain her position as a senate member and to have the respect of the senate members, but it helped that your father was working in the senate alongside him.

So for him to admit something like that truly showed his maturity and his compassion. You had never heard anyone admit that women had it harder than men, and this confession coming from a man was even more admirable. Not to mention that he was a prince, and the royal families were famous for not acknowledging the faults in the systems they had put in place, no wonder your heart skipped a beat. If he had not already earned your respect, he would have definitely done so now.

“That’s something that I want to change if I have the chance,” you added, knowing that he wouldn’t be appalled by your words, and indeed, he was far from bewildered.

“You will,” he said encouragingly instead, and when your eyes met, your heart leaped. Somehow with him by your side, you could believe it, you could believe that you would be able to bring about a change. “Even if you won’t, I will help you change it,” he promised solicitously, the moonlight painting little streaks of dirty white lines onto his skin. As the prince of the Air Kingdom, he really did look like the epitome of air - you felt like you could breathe beside him, and it was a little easier and lighter to be around him than anyone else, his warmth filling up your lungs and planting little seeds of hope alongside your blood vessels.

More than ever, you wanted nothing more than to stop time and enjoy that moment just a little longer.

The rules were simple for the final round, though they were more like guidelines. You had 15 minutes to win over your opponent. You could use all of the different kinds of elemental magic that you had been learning how to tame, but you couldn’t use other weapons - such as knives or daggers -, so you had to rely on air, earth, fire and water solely. Your aim was to make your opponent say that they surrender, so you will automatically win the fight, not to kill them or hurt them badly. Each contestant’s fighting gear was designed to protect them against serious injuries, so you wore tight-fitted clothes that covered your legs, arms and even your neck. The material gave you enough flexibility to move around and channel your magic, and your training boots gave you enough hold in case you needed to climb or keep your feet on the ground against currents of magic.

On top of that, each pair was put in a training room that had the elements of an obstacle course dotted around - such as steep climbing walls, a pool of water and wooden boards -, and enough space to fight in the middle in case someone didn’t want to make use of the equipment around. Each room was designed to be able to gather all kinds of elemental magic, so no one could be at a disadvantage when calling for the kind of magic they wanted. If a fight got too intense or appeared threatening to a contestant’s life, the judges who would otherwise be stationed by the sides of the rooms would interrupt the game.

The judges also had the right to stop a fight, to disqualify a contestant for breaching the rules, or to select a winner if the time limit was up. In the case of the latter, the judges could choose whether they would give both contestants the chance to win, only one of them or neither of them. That’s why it was better if one could win the fight within the time limit because that would guarantee an immediate pass.

There were 16 pairs in total, and you would be separated into four groups, each group having the same room for themselves with the same set of judges overlooking the fight. If needed, the judges would move the materials inside the room around and clean up after between two rounds to ensure fairness.

Yet, the most important of them all was the final list of pairs that was announced after the judges read the rules out loud yet again - the same set of rules that they had introduced a week prior. The more names were called, the more anxious you became, and even though it seemed that contestants from mostly different kingdoms were put together, it didn’t help to soothe your nerves because only Minhyung could be ruled out. Boys and girls were also up against each other, not only same sex pairs were announced, so there was no way you could predict whom you could be up against.

“Kim Seunghun from the Fire Kingdom will be against Ju Haknyeon from the Earth Kingdom. Bong Jaehyun from the Air Kingdom will be against Kim Bora from the Water Kingdom,” the list went on, and you could feel Yoojung beside you becoming more and more uneasy. She started shifting her weight from her left leg to her right, and you gave her a half-smile when she caught you glancing her way.

“Lee Yongsoo from the Earth Kingdom will be against prince Minhyung from the Air Kingdom.”

You let out a relieved sigh when you heard Minhyung’s name being called, and turned to your left to see the boy doing the same. Yongsoo was a nice guy, not an easy opponent, but at least he wasn’t one of you. One down, three more to worry about.

“Kim Yubin from the Fire Kingdom will be against Y/N from the Air Kingdom,” the announcer listed, and you heaved a sigh. Yubin was pretty intense as most fire wizards were, but you and Yoojung had been helping each other to train, so you knew what weaknesses to look out for and what kind of techniques you could pull on her to make her surrender. You hoped that what you had been practising before wouldn’t leave you within those 15 minutes either. Most important of all: you weren’t up against either of your friends.

“Park Serim from the Earth Kingdom will be against Choi Yewon from the Air Kingdom. Shen Xiaoting from the Fire Kingdom will be against Kim Jibeom from the Water Kingdom. Prince Hendery from the Water Kingdom will be against Choi Yoojung from the Fire Kingdom.”

An audible curse word left Yoojung’s lips in the next moment, followed by some murmurs from the others around. Everyone knew that the four of you had become pretty close, so this exact pairing seemed to be the most interesting one for others so far. The murmurs grew so loud that the announcer had to order them to keep quiet before announcing the rest of the pairs.

You reached for Yoojung’s hand to squeeze it, but the girl didn’t squeeze back. Instead, she stared at something behind you, and when you followed her gaze, you could see that they were staring at each other with Hendery in shock. You could totally understand their bewilderment, and truthfully, you didn’t want to think about who would win the fight. They were both so powerful, so skilled, you could only hope that they would both make it after the time limit would be up. That was the only way both of them would be able to win, and honestly, if you could hope for one thing, it would be that both of them make it.

You had no time to ponder over the possible outcome of the final round as the list of the pairings soon came to an end, and the contestants were ushered in the direction of their appointed rooms. You shared a quick glance with Minhyung who directed an encouraging smile at you, and you tried to smile back, though you had no idea how nervous it might have turned out. In no time, you were separated from all three of them as your group headed in a different direction than theirs, so you could only keep them in their thoughts and hope for the best.

A chill ran down your spine as it dawned on you that this was it; there was nowhere to hide now, no way you could escape your future. Whatever lied ahead of you, however the final round would turn out, it would be over, and it would most definitely seal your fate. It was now or never, and if not for yourself or for your parents, you had to win for your friends. You wanted to enter the wizardry school, and you wanted to study with them. There was no other way it should play out, you had to win.

Within your group, Serim and Yewon were the first ones to go, and you would follow right after. Your opponent, Yubin didn’t say a word to you before you were called inside, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t friends to wish each other good luck, nor were you enemies to spit at each other before you would go against each other. Mentally, you tried to prepare for the adrenaline rush and the intensity of the fight, but nothing could prepare for what was about to come.

Those approximately 15 minutes until the doors to the room flew open again seemed like an eternity, and the more you tried to calm yourself, the more nervous you felt. The anxiety that had been going through your body in the previous rounds couldn’t be compared to how you were feeling now.

You sucked in a deep breath when you walked into the room, and despite the fact that you had been here before, it wasn’t the same. Not the setting, not your state, and definitely not what was at stake.

“Remember, you have 15 minutes. 3 minutes and then 1 minute before the time limit is up, we will let you know that the end of the round is approaching. Now, give it your all! Good luck!” One of your professors introduced and with a flick of his hand, the torches alongside the walls of the training room bolted, lighting up the equipment around, signalling the beginning of the fight.

You looked around briefly, taking in the sources of magic - the pool of water, the fire in the torches, the air sweeping through the ceiling that was open fully and the trees swaying on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling windows -, and the equipment that you could work with - a climbing wall, a ladder made of ropes hanging above the pool of water that connected a wooden bench to a smaller version of a look-out tower. There was a giant oak tree with lowly hanging branches - you had no idea how they managed to summon that inside as you had never seen one in an obstacle course before -, and there was a rotating circular platform with a variety of different sized pillars attached to the platform.

You could see from the corner of your eyes how Yubin took in your surroundings before she made the first move. As expected, she used her own magic to attack with first - throwing a fireball at you - and since you had a feeling she would do so, you swiftly reached out your hand in the direction of the pool and threw a ball of water against the fireball. The two currents of magic collided in the middle.

You gathered the threads of air around you and pushed it towards the girl who stumbled a bit backwards, but not enough to gain an advantage. So you gave it another push, forcing the girl to jump on the circular platform if she didn’t want to be thrown off by it. In the meantime, you made your way towards the tree, trying to gather as much energy from the earth as possible.

Your plan was to shake the ground enough for the girl to keep swaying after she got off the moving platform, but you couldn’t summon enough of its magic in time. Instead, Yubin threw another fireball at you, and it would have hurt you (but not burned your body apart from your face since your protective gear would take care of it) if you hadn’t managed to jump out of its direction.

Afterwards, you kept pushing currents of energy into the other’s direction, but no matter how hard you tried, the girl always stood up after falling down or managed to weaken your magic with her own - sending little drops of water back at you with her air current when you tried to send a rush of water at her or putting out your fire when you tried to burn the wooden bench beneath her feet.

“3 minutes left!” The judges shouted over the noises of your fight, and the knot in your throat became tighter. You had to think of something to use against her and to surprise her with because you might not be able to win against her in time if you didn’t do so.

So instead of attacking, you used the air around you to carry you towards the look-out tower at one end of the ladder with Yubin being on the other end of it. Thinking that you might want to burn down the ladder of ropes between you two, the girl started running towards you, but little did she know, that’s exactly what you wanted her to think so whilst you were summoning the magic of water in the pool beneath her. Despite the fact that water wasn’t your elemental magic, you didn’t need to think whether you could be gentle enough with it because you wanted the opposite: you had to use the water to lash out on her to make her falter, so that she would fall into the water.

“What the…” You could hear Yubin exclaim as the water beneath her started bubbling, and then you reached your hands out to aim your attack at her. The water shot into her and instead of falling down into the pool, the girl was thrown into the air carried by the wild waves before she was thrown off to the ground beside the pool.

You fell to your knees after the rush of magic left your body. It was as if the air was sucked out of your lungs, you had never used so much energy on one spectacle before. You fought for air just as much as Yubin did so, but the girl also coughed up water, her whole body trembling after she was basically thrown off by a huge strike of water.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, your body screaming for rest, but it couldn’t stop, the adrenaline kept you going. So you got to your feet, holding up your hands to gather more energy, but when Yubin caught sight of your move, she lifted one of her hands, and announced, still panting:

“I surrender.”

The weight of the word didn’t even get to you at first, but when it did, you fell back to your knees - out of joy this time. You did it, you really did it. You won this round, and it meant that you were one of the finalists of the contest.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You won your final round,” one of the judges confirmed, but it felt like he was speaking from somewhere far away, you were still so into the game, your brain was still trying to come up with ideas to win, and that feeling didn’t go away easily.

You still felt jumpy as if you had to be prepared for another attack when you were instructed to leave the room and wait for the remaining two pairs in your group to finish. You didn’t know why, but each contestant was sent into a different room where a nurse tended to their potential bruises, cold bodies, slight concussions and such. You also had a few scratches, but you could barely concentrate on anything other than the fact that you made it.

No wonder time seemed to move differently when you were in such a dazed state, and it felt like only a few minutes passed by, not more than half an hour when you were called in for the wrap-up of the contest. Judged by the number of contestants called into one place, you guessed that they were the winners, and when you spotted Minhyung in the crowd, you smiled so wide, it almost hurt. The boy threw away any insecurities as he rushed to embrace you, warm and tight, before letting go of you when embarrassment hit him (hit both of you), blushing a bit.

“Sorry. I just…”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you waved off his excuses immediately, but your face flushed just as well. You gave him a nervous chuckle, and he did the same, and gosh, the certainty of knowing that you would spend the next 2 years studying at the same wizardry school as him warmed your heart.

After exchanging a few words with Minhyung, you looked around, searching for a familiar pair of fired-up eyes or the familiar messy locks of deep-brown hair. Truthfully, you hoped that Hendery and Yoojung would silently agree on waiting out the 15 minutes without announcing surrender, but judging by the frazzled up state of Yoojung’s, it didn’t exactly go like that.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” the girl held up her hand, frowning, before you could ask how it went, and even though you exchanged a confused glance with Minhyung, you decided not to push the girl for details.

Not that you had time to do so because the judges announced the end of the contest, and congratulated those contestants who were in the room because you were the ones who won the final battle and ultimately made it into the wizardry school. You saw a few familiar faces around - including the muscular Changbin, his equally muscular roommate Serim and their ever so flirtatious friend Yeonjun, the classy Xiaoting, the jokester Seunghun, the fierce Gahyeon, Tzuyu and Yeoreum who shared the room on your left, Yohan who was Xiaojun’s roommate - and there were other girls and boys whose names you couldn’t quite remember, but none of them was Hendery, so you didn’t want to pry until Yoojung was ready to talk about it.

“And now, you can bid goodbye to your peers who didn’t make it, and you can all pack up to head home before coming back here to study with us. See you in 2 weeks, our prosperous students, the future of the Four Kingdoms’ United School of Applied Elemental Magic!”

Loud cheers reverberated from the walls after the judges put an end to the closing ceremony, and you became one with the relieved crowd as you walked down the corridors to go back to your rooms.

The corridors of your future school.

There were a lot of different kinds of goodbyes. For the past weeks, you felt like you had experienced quite a lot of them. It wasn’t the same saying goodbye to your parents with the weight of their expectations on your soldier as saying goodbye to the friends you had made when they had been sent home or now when you were saying goodbye to the school building for 2 weeks before moving in again.

You all - both winners and the ones who lost in the final round - had one day to pack your stuff and leave the school buildings behind. The winners had to pick up their certification regarding their result as well, but it’s not like you were treated differently on your final day. You would have two years either way to get to know the professors, each other and all the little corners and corridors of the buildings that you hadn’t yet been to. You had all the time on your hands now despite the fact that you felt like you had been running against time week after week whilst being in the contest.

Thankfully, no one threw a tantrum, no one made a scene when the final results were out, so the day you had to pack and bid your farewell was spent in peace. Truthfully, you were immensely relieved that you had passed the final round, but you were also weary from using up so much of your energy the day before (and all the other days before), so you didn’t have a lot of energy left to celebrate. Yoojung was the same, she was rather frustrated over the fact that Hendery had purposefully surrendered, or at least, she thought so.

“It’s not like I didn’t go easy on him. I did so because I wanted us to hold onto until the end of the 15 minutes, so the judges would let us pass. Instead, almost right before the time limit was up, the boy shouted that he surrendered when I burned down the tree beside him. That’s it, I didn’t even hurt him seriously! He did it on purpose to let me pass, that dumbass. I was so angry at him because this wasn’t our plan! And when I asked him why he did this, he said that he had his reason. That coward, he didn’t even want to tell me!” She huffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance while packing her clothes into a bag.

Her usual chattering was replaced by her fuming, her wide smiles replaced by deep creases on her forehead. You knew that she wasn’t one to mess with when she was agitated (she was from the Fire Kingdom after all, her stare felt intense and flaming hot when she was mad), so you let her complain all about the boy. The best thing you could do was to not take sides, even when she claimed that she didn’t want Hendery to explain himself afterwards because he had his chance to do so, now she didn’t even want to see him again.

She eventually did so anyway because Minhyung and Hendery seemed to be waiting for you two in the hall, all packed up and ready to go home. Yoojung was stern like a rock beside you the whole time the boys were chatting about how they couldn’t decide whose socks were on the floor because neither of them had packed for themselves, it had been their servants from their respective palace.

As you listened to the boys’ chatter, you realised that Hendery didn’t look regretful, not at all. You assumed that he knew what he had done, and he took responsibility for it, so you didn’t want to question his actions. Instead, you joined in on the conversation when they were talking about their favourite memories from the contest, and eventually, you all walked through the gates of the wizardry school, leaving the school grounds.

You caught sight of your father standing idly by himself not far from the gates and there were carriages stationed around the giant fountain that symbolised the four kingdoms’ appreciation for the school - four different hands reaching for one circle in the middle -, so you guessed that courtiers were sent for the princes as well.

“Oh, I think I’ve gotta go,” Minhyung concluded as he looked around, and he scratched the back of his neck rather sheepishly when he turned back to you all. He did an odd hand shake with Hendery (did they come up with it themselves?), bobbed his head at the still frowning Yoojung, then looked at you, and suddenly, he looked completely unsure of himself, his fingers clenching and unclenching.

“I’ve gotta go, too. See you guys in two weeks!” Yoojung announced abruptly, then turned on her heel without further notice, and started walking further away from you. Hendery looked totally dumbstruck before bolting after the girl without saying a word to you.

You and Minhyung exchanged a glance after you had awoken from your stupor. Then, your lips turned into awkward little curves, the right words not appearing on your tongue. There was so much to say, so much to reminisce about, and yet… You just stood there awkwardly like two little kids.

You couldn’t help but be reminded of his warm hug after the final round, and deep down, you wished that he would do it again. If there was an embodiment of comfort, it would be him, and you were enchanted, under his spell, there was no other way to explain why you were feeling the way you did. You had been close to him before as well - when you had fallen over him during the obstacle course -, but it had been accidental back then. Yet, his hug could not have been accidental the day before.

“So…” The boy unclenched his jaw as he cleared his throat. “We’ll see each other soon, right? You know, take care until then… and try not to miss me too much,” he added belatedly with a wink, then burst into laughter. It sounded like birds chirping on a spring day, so joyful and so carefree. “Gosh, that was really bad, wasn’t it?”

“I mean…” you laughed along with him, this new, borderline flirty side of him blooming flowers of hope in your chest. “It was unexpected, but it wasn’t that bad,” you admitted between little fists of laughter, and your lips settled into a gentle smile. You would miss him, you could feel it in your core, but not being able to see him for two weeks before studying together for two years was a little sacrifice compared to what you would get afterwards.

“You too, take care,” you filled the silence before it could stretch further, and this time, it was you who closed the distance and embraced the boy. It was brief, it was a spur-of-a-moment decision, but you didn’t mind. Not when the boy’s face flushed like a torch afterwards and your heart was doing little somersaults. It was all worth it, and there was no denying anymore that you were enchanted by him.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think.

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for NCT or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Masterlist for the abovementioned request event can be found here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[psychiatry-and-poetry]

Solace in the Seas

AO3 | Gwyn Week 2025 Masterpost |

@gwynweekofficial

Prompt: Day Four: Nymph - Magic of the Naiads (Gwyn is a quarter river nymph and the way she is described is akin to the Naiads in mythology, water spirits known for their healing abilities, grace, and their role as protectors of children. Do you think Gwyn inherited any water related powers? Could her connection to the river and her hauntingly serene presence hint at dormant abilities tied to the element of water? Let's explore.)

A/N: I pumped out this fic the day I was meant to post, hence why it’s slightly later than my normal posting time. Apologies for any typos or inaccuracies, I just wanted to get something written (that’s also why it’s kind of short)

Word Count: 1975

Gwyn exhaled, letting the sun warm her already flushed skin. It was a hot summer day in Velaris, with residents sitting by the Sidra, enjoying the beautiful weather or patrons in outdoor pubs having a mid-morning drink. Others were out shopping before the shops closed for the summer, but Gwyn’s attention was far from the city.

In fact, she was so far from Velaris that the city was barely a pinprick at the edge of her vision. If she squinted, she could make out the vaguest details of the Rainbow, but nothing more concrete than that.

She’d made up the shitty excuse that a distant aunt of hers wasn’t feeling well and that she’d been called to take care of her. Nesta and Emerie had both offered to come along, neither without their suspicions, but Gwyn had fed them enough white lies to tamp down their questions about how she had a memory disorder, and that it was a miracle if she could even remember her some days. It was dangerous for her friends to accompany her, Gwyn had insisted. She tends to get hysterical when overwhelmed. Really, it’s no problem. It had kept the two at bay, though barely.

Azriel and Cassian had seemed less convinced, but they didn’t argue with her request to take a day off. She was sure they’d sensed something amiss, but she’d deal with the aftermath later.

As for Merrill, she’d simply gone to Clotho and requested a day off. Merrill couldn’t stop her if she got written confirmation from the High Priestess herself. It had been her first ever voluntary time off that she’d requested from the Library, and Clotho hadn’t argued, simply signed the slip with her magical pen. Go, she’d written. Enjoy your day off. Cauldron knows you work yourself to the bone.

Gwyn had been overjoyed and had nearly embraced the older priestess with glee before she’d caught herself. She’d had enough decorum to utter a dignified “Thank you, High Priestess,” before scampering off and hastily packing a bag.

Now, as Gwyn stood at the edge of a lake, secluded from most Fae life, she was sorely overthinking her rash decision to come here. Granted, she’d debated this for a while, but the actual act of leaving was something she hadn’t been mentally prepared for. As it turned out, obsessing over her wish to leave the mountain and explore the world outside for herself wasn’t enough for her anxiety to abate.

She was going to have to leave at some point, right? She couldn’t be holed up her entire life. Of course, it didn’t make anyone else’s decision any less valid; those who wanted to live in the sanctuary and safety of the mountain were more than welcome to. But that wasn’t what Gwyn wanted to do. She’d always been a social person at her core; someone who loved exploring the outdoors.

Exploring the area around Velaris had seemed like a good idea, mostly because it was secluded so she’d avoid the possibility of running into strangers. A few years of interacting solely with the priestesses in the Library had done her social skills more harm than good, and she wanted a warm-up, a taste of what the world looked like in the years she hadn’t been fully part of it before she reintroduced herself to society again.

She’d even considered dragging her friends along at one point, then settled on the conclusion that this was her battle to fight. Not Nesta’s, not Emerie’s, hers. She had to become comfortable with the idea of dealing with her problems by herself. Asking for help was one thing, but she’d asked for enough help over the years.

Gwyn sat down by the edge of the lake, the shimmering cobalt waters putting her slightly at ease. No matter what she did, where she was, or what had happened, the ever-changing tides and currents had a way of reducing her anxiety so that whatever problems she had seemed far away and almost fantastical.

Taking a deep breath, she began her mind-stilling techniques in an attempt to calm her racing heart. When she had completed six rotations of her breathing exercises and the world didn’t seem like it was going to swallow her whole, she stood up and began undressing herself.

She stood in her undergarments a moment later, then grit her teeth as she stepped into the lake’s freezing water. Despite the sun overhead, the water felt like it had been sourced straight from the northernmost Illyrian Mountains. She was only up by her knees. She fought an involuntary chill, then made her way deeper. Waist. Gwyn kept going, in part because she was already in quite deep; in part because if she stopped, her body would lock up and she wouldn’t be able to move another inch. Chest.

A few moments later, when she’d stopped shivering and was submerged up to her neck, she waded into the centre of the lake, examining her surroundings.

Lush trees and greenery surrounded her as far as the eye could see; carpets of grass and wild foliage a welcome contrast to the darker trees that stood proud at the lake’s edge. Gwyn stood like that for a while, simply soaking in all that she’d missed. Despite her fears, it felt good to be out here again. Better than good. Freeing.

“We were wondering when you would ssssseek us out,” a voice crooned, breaking Gwyn out of her delightful reverie. A voice in her head told her that she should tread with caution, and yet Gwyn couldn’t bring it upon herself to be afraid. Unseen magical creatures were hardly signs of good fortune. But she was part naiad, after all. Which creature would harm a daughter of the seas?

“Who are you?” Gwyn asked into the seemingly empty air, though she sensed there were other figures lurking just outside her line of sight. She had an inkling (a pretty strong one, at that) but she wanted to be completely sure before she let her guard down. She wasn’t worried by any means, only on alert. It never hurts to be a little cautious.

“You know who we are,” it answered cryptically, the voice seemingly echoing from all around her.

“No. I don’t,” Gwyn answered. “I have a suspicion, but I’m not sure. I’d prefer it if you could confirm it for me.”

A raspy chuckle filled the silence after her response. “Very smart, kori. I see living away from the waters has all but sharpened that already witty mind of yours.”

Kori. The word sent a current of nostalgia through her, as sudden and unexpected as this entire trip. Daughter. It’d been years since she’d been called that. She hadn’t realised how much she hungered for that connection until it had reawakened.

Ignoring the sudden trip down memory lane, she asked again. “Will you tell me who you are now?”

Her question hung in the air for a moment before a figure surfaced in front of her, rising above the surface. Blue-green skin, azure locks, and fangs now leered at her. 

Instinctively, Gwyn bowed, sweeping her head low and giving the naiad a curtsy to the best of her ability despite being dressed in flimsy underthings. 

“Rise, kori.” It gestured to her with a bony hand, its spindly fingers and equally long, sharp nails at the edge of Gwyn’s vision. Her voice was far more grating up close.

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m here?” Gwyn ventured. “That doesn’t seem like the naiads I know.”

“You will tell us when you are ready,” it answered. “You have never been one to hide from us, and certainly not from the water. You trust us, and we trust that you know when to reveal whatever it is you wish to talk about.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Gwyn didn’t know how long she’d spent recounting the past few years to the naiad in front of her. They’d continued with small talk for a short while afterwards, until Gwyn had decided that enough was enough, and that she was going to address the elephant in the room, once and for all. 

Surprisingly enough, the naiad hadn’t been pushy or overwhelming. It had simply listened to her with rapt attention; never interrupting, never asking questions.

It was a different sort of comfort than the one that she’d got used to over the past few years with her friends and the priestesses, but it wasn’t foreign or unwelcome by any means. In fact, it was comfort and nostalgia all wrapped into one.

A part of Gwyn would forever remember how she’d spent her childhood by the lake, conversing and laughing with the local naiads. They had become her confidantes, almost as close as Catrin had been, and it felt wonderful to rekindle that precious, almost sacred connection again.

It brought back painful memories of her sister, yes, which were made even more painful by the fact that she was currently standing in a large body of water talking about her. Catrin had loved the waters just as much as she had. Gwyn felt a twinge of pain every time she entered the ocean. It was why she hadn’t been swimming in such a long time, denying even Nesta’s and Emerie’s requests on the particularly sweltering summer days when they’d insisted they take a dip. It had felt too personal, too close to home. She hadn’t been ready. Entering the waters after her attack had always been something she’d wanted to do on her own. In fact, Gwyn had spent multiple nights awake, wondering how the conversation with her sister might go.

But pain, like everything else; like grief, had to be felt. The only way out of it was through it. It was one of the many lessons she’d learned over the years; that healing had no shortcuts. It required work and practice and persistence, but it was all worth it in the end. It’d taken a while for that particular line to sink in, but when it had, she knew she wouldn’t forget it.

“You are brave, child,” the naiad said throatily once Gwyn had finished. “You have been through much. I foresee much happiness for you. Yes,” it continued at Gwyn’s quizzical expression. “Some of us possess the Sight. Not our brethren in the solar courts, but in Night, there are many who do. Believe me when I say that yours is a future filled with much light and joy. There are many opportunities for you in the future in all aspects of your life.”

“Thank you.” Gwyn bowed again at the hip instead of the conventional curtsy. It was tradition to accept a vision or blessing with a bow.

The sun had begun its descent through the sky by now, casting the area in hues of pink and golden. The foliage looked ethereal bathed in the dying evening light, the trees glimmering and the water having taken on an almost aureate hue. Velaris, on the other hand, was just beginning to liven up. It was, after all, the City of Starlight, and it came alive when its citizens did.

“I must be going,” Gwyn said hastily. “Thank you so much for being here and listening to me.”

The naiad smiled, though it resembled more of a sneer than anything with its indigo mouth and sharp fangs. “Come to visit us again, kori. We have missed you, and I am certain that being away from the waters for this long has not been an easy feat for you either.”

Gwyn smiled. “I’ll visit as often as I can.” Then, she began her trek back up to the House of Wind, the setting sun at her back, more satisfied and at ease than she’d felt in years.

The waters, of course, would always be there for her.

A/N: Kori in Greek means ‘daughter’, and since naiads are technically part of Greek mythology I thought it might be a fun little titbit to incorporate!

[journey-of-daydreams]

An Unavoidable Presence [Rewrite & Reader] [Platonic]

Rewrite is rarely subtle when they want affection. aka Rewrite conspicuously demands attention & affection.

───{⭕⭕⭕}───

Type: Oneshot Genre: Fluff Content Warnings: None Stage: 3 Rings Note: Contains platonic cuddling.

[Link to Rewrite & Reader Masterpost]

───{⭕⭕⭕}───

It's the dead of night, and a campfire crackles in front of you. You sit in front of it, staring into it in thought.

You hear rustling coming from the bushes. You turn to it, seeing the top of Rewrite's head poking out. After a beat, they fully pop out of the bush.

"Hi there, friend!" They greet you cheerfully. "Hope you don't mind the company."

"Oh, I never do." You retort lightheartedly... And watch them as they proceed to walk over and sit directly between you and the campfire, blocking the light. You give them a bit of a miffed look, but decide not to protest.

The campfire's light hits their back and casts a shadow on their face, giving them an honestly ominous appearance as they stare into you.

You wait for them to speak. But they do not. Instead, they continue staring into you. It's pretty dark with them blocking the light now.

Alright, they're waiting for something.

"...Do you need something?" You ask dryly, yet playfully.

"Yes!" They chime. You wait for them to add more information.

They do not.

"...Well, what do you-" You begin, but you stumble on your words when they abruptly start crawling towards you on all fours. Your brows furrow in confusion.

"What are you doing?" You question with a chuckle, bemused.

They don't respond. Instead, they crouch close to the ground... In an all too familiar pose.

Oh no.

They're about to pounce on you.

You quickly try to scramble up and get out of the way, but you're too slow.

Rewrite tackles you, you get knocked to the ground and let out an "oof"- And you find yourself now trapped in Rewrite's hug.

You squirm a little, trying to get into a more comfortable position since Rewrite oh so kindly tackled you onto your side. As soon as you stop fidgeting, Rewrite lays their head on top of yours.

You sigh. With no other option, you hug them back.

"You could've just asked for a hug." You retort to them. That familiar, out of place laugh plays from them.

"I could've!" They agree. They pull you in tighter now that you've found a comfortable position. "But I didn't."

"I noticed." You deadpan at them. "...I would have said yes if you just asked."

Rewrite gasps in offense, apparently. "How was I supposed to know that!"

"I've said yes so many times," You exasperatedly explain, but stop yourself when you realize they're definitely just screwing with you. "Shut up, you did know that."

They play a harsh pfrftft, akin to blowing a raspberry. "You wish I did."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at whatever that's supposed to mean. "Whatever. Was that enough attention for you, Rewrite?"

"Hmmmm." Rewrite hums, their head floating off their body as one of their hands unwinds itself from you to tap their chin.

"Nope! いくらでも欲しいくらいだよ！" Their head goes straight back to resting on top of yours and their arm wraps back around you.

You exhale sharply, both as a laugh and a scoff. They won't let you go anytime soon. Your hand strokes their back, running along their quills. You can see Rewrite's smile from their position.

The two of you lay there, in peaceful silence.

…

…

After a few minutes, Rewrite nuzzles their head on the top of yours, and finally speaks.

"Okay! My attention quotas have been fulfilled." They announce, pleased.

"Perfect… So can you let me go now?" You ask eagerly. You're starting to feel uncomfortable from laying on Rewrite's arms, they're pressing into your back.

"I could!" They retort oh so innocently, mischief dripping in their voice.

A beat passes. They don't let you go.

You start to squirm out of their grasp, legs lightly kicking them.

Rewrite emits a high pitched squeal of protest. But you escape—or, rather, they let you escape, as you know better—and scramble away. They're left on the ground, face-down in defeat. A terrible tragedy.

You watch them for several seconds. They stay laying face-down in the grass, barely moving. They just stay there, dedicated to playing dead or... Something. You grin, amused.

But you know better. Should they suddenly decide that wasn't enough attention for them... There will be no escape.

You run before they can change their mind.

[louisupdates]

Interviewer Hrishikesh Kannan: You grew up in Doncaster, which is a small, sweet town. Would you say that you’re still most comfortable in an environment like that or big cities like New York and London and Mumbai?

Louis: that’s an interesting question! I think I’ve spent such a long time now also living in London, I suppose I’m kind of used to it. Going back home always feels really lovely. I’d say a combination of the two, really.

Interviewer: You know, when you get into the fan pits, it gets very intense and passionate. There are fans lining up now, as we speak! Louies of India… what are you expecting in India? There have been some crazy fair moments in South America, I know.

Louis: I feel like it might be akin to that kind of experience. I don’t really know what to expect in terms of from the crowds. I’ve got this feeling that it’s going to be wild, in the best kind of way. And that moment that you talk about, when I get down at the end of the set, it’s always my favorite moment of the show. I’m very excited to feel that tonight, to feel the energy of that moment.

Interviewer: Did they take your shirt off in South America? 

Louis: They did! Yeah, yeah. Something I normally like to do myself, if I’m going to take it off, you know. But sometimes people get a little over excited. What can you do! 

Louis Tomlinson with Hrishikesh Kannan at Radio One International [9.3.2025], part 4 / 8

INDIA 2025 MASTERPOST