#a disaster beyond imagination
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sollucets · 1 year ago
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would it be a sin? if i can't let that fool go down alone.
@userdramas​ event 16: fools
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lil-vibes · 8 months ago
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Day 30: Discintegrate
Previous/Next
(prompt list here!)
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zerosocialskillz · 8 months ago
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Y’know all of this made me think of a version of Inanimate Insanity but it’s actually a killing game like Danganronpa instead of a reality show
Like if MePhone4 watched Danganronpa and tried to host one himself and shit. Complete with pretending to be a despair-loving freak and all of that jazz
#attempts at socializing#danganronpa#inanimate insanity#based on II16. you know the one#spoilers for inanimate insanity and Danganronpa v3 beyond this point#I’m imagining that the contestants learn about 4 (who they believe has been infected by a despair loving virus)#they pity the guy who seemed to be a disaster magnet#first the guy has a terrible dad#second guy got infected by that virus#but then it turns out that the virus never existed and 4 was just playing a persona#not only that they learn that they were all created for the killing game#they get angry of course#but then again… the killed get revived someplace else#and the reason why he did that is because he never knew anything else#not even a loving life…#so they deduce that they are being watched#break the cameras#and force 4 to show his true self#and plan to save him from the true mastermind’s hold over him and end the killing game#so yeah you get to team up with knockoff monokuma against the mastermind :3#and yes it ends with all the contestants and shit disappearing#but perhaps at this point they have beaten the shit out of cobs and thus have completed their mission#so it’s time to say goodbye to the only ones who cared for mephone#or maybe they have done their part of the plan to defeat cons#and as say suitcase disappears they tell mephone#‘it’s time for you to break your strings.’#so yeah you get to help knockoff monokuma be the protagonist for once#and save him from Junko’s grasp#even though everything else is gone
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rumandstars · 1 year ago
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I know I'm years late to the party, but HBO's show Chernobyl is INCREDIBLE. Some of the most well-made television I've ever had the horror of seeing...and it is horrifying (it's supposed to be). Jared Harris as Valery Legasov = a top ten acting performance IMO.
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wardencommanderrodimiss · 2 years ago
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"Man, Desire Demons are so full of shit. Ambition? I'm just fucking trying to make it to Friday." --Gen Hawke, probably.
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mohammedmtargaza · 4 months ago
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Imagine this:
Hello! Have you ever heard of a "city of the dead"?
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It's a place where the living reside, but they're dead! They're doomed to die, either quickly through direct targeting or slowly due to the absence of vitality in their city
Wherever you turn, you find nothing but death, displacement, homelessness, destruction, hunger, thirst, ignorance, disease, and rampant infection.
It's my city! It was fully with life until the butchers passed through it! Since the beginning of the massacres, I've been struggling to save myself and my family.
I am Mohammed from Gaza I’m sharing my story with hope in my heart, because your kindness has already given us so much strength.
a 31-year-old living amidst the war in Gaza, a place deeply affected by conflict and hardship. I hold a Bachelor degree in Medical Laboratory Sciences , I graduated with very good But Unfortunately, I did not get a job opportunity.
my family
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Before the outbreak of war, my family and I had a comfortable life in our beautiful home filled with cherished memories. However, since the conflict began, our lives have been turned upside down. We now find ourselves living in a small tent, exposed to the harsh elements and constant threat of violence.
Our home, which once embraced us, is now destroyed It became a remembrance
👉 Watch the video
A picture of me and my family in front of our destroyed house.
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👉Our house was bombed in the 2008 escalation and we built it, and also in the 2014 escalation the house was destroyed again and we rebuilt it, and in this 2023/2024 war the house was also destroyed.
Every time we start again, the Israeli occupation destroys us again
Life is unbearable. It has become hell for us. destruction, no education, no future
We can't stand it anymore
The situation here is dire. Food and basic necessities are scarce, and famine and malnutrition have become rampant. Our lives are hanging by a thread, and we fear for the safety and well-being of our children every single day.
The cost of living here has become extremely high. All of our resources are going towards securing food and trying to escape from disaster, desperately seeking a lifeline.
We are yearning to escape this nightmare and rebuild our lives in a safe place.
However, the cost of traveling to a safer area was beyond our means.
Each ticket cost $5000 per person,
a sum that was impossible for us to bear. Now, the border crossing is closed, and things continue to worsen.
We want to collect donations to leave Gaza if the crossing opens
That's why I am reaching out to you, dear friends. Your generosity and compassion can make all the difference for me and my family. Your donations will enable us to flee this war-torn region and start anew, away from the horrors of conflict and instability.
How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:
$5 may seem small, but for us, it’s a little relief, a moment of comfort, and a reminder that kindness still exists. ❤️
Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #533 )✅️
verified by @bilal-sala7 ✅️ ( #36 )
With all my love and gratitude
Mohammed and family
Donation Link
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luna-azzurra · 10 months ago
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12 Emotional Wounds in Fiction Storys
Betraying a Loved One. Your character made a choice, and it backfired, badly. They betrayed someone close to them, maybe on purpose, maybe by accident. Now, the guilt’s eating them alive. They might try to fix things, but can they even make up for what they did?
Guilt Over a Past Mistake. They made a mistake, one that cost someone else. Maybe it was reckless, maybe it was a dumb decision, but now it haunts them. They can’t stop thinking about it, and no matter how hard they try to make things right, the past keeps pulling them back.
Survivor’s Guilt. Imagine surviving something awful, an accident, a disaster, but someone else didn’t make it. Now your character is stuck asking, “Why me? Why am I still here?” They push people away, convinced they don’t deserve to be happy or even alive.
Feeling Powerless. Your character is trapped, maybe in an abusive home, a toxic relationship, or just in life itself. They feel stuck, with no control over their own future.
Being Wrongly Accused. They didn’t do it. But no one believes them. Your character has been falsely accused of something serious, maybe even a crime and now they’re fighting to clear their name. It’s not just about proving their innocence, though. They’re also battling the pain of being abandoned by people who were supposed to stand by them.
Public Humiliation. They’ve just been humiliated in front of everyone, maybe it’s a video gone viral, or they were betrayed by someone they trusted. Now, they can’t even look people in the eye.
Living in Someone’s Shadow. No matter what they do, it’s never enough. Someone else, a sibling, a friend, a partner, always shines brighter. They feel stuck in that person’s shadow, invisible and overlooked.
Abandoning a Dream. They had big dreams, but somewhere along the way, life got in the way, and now they’ve given up. Maybe it was because of fear or circumstances beyond their control, but the loss of that dream has left them feeling empty.
Childhood Trauma. Something happened to them when they were young, something painful that still affects them today. Whether it was abuse, neglect, or a significant loss, the trauma follows them into adulthood, shaping how they see themselves and the world.
Being an Outsider. They’ve never felt like they fit in, whether because of their background, their personality, or something else. They long for acceptance but fear they’ll never find it.
Struggling with Addiction. They’re caught in a destructive cycle, whether it’s with substances, behaviors, or even people. The shame and struggle to break free from addiction are real and raw.
Living with Chronic Illness. They’re living with a chronic illness or disability, and it’s not just the physical challenges that weigh them down, it’s the emotional toll, too. Maybe they feel isolated, or like they’re a burden to others.
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flwrkid14 · 1 month ago
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The Case of the Phantom Lipstick
Tim Drake is many things: a genius, a detective, a vigilante, a caffeine-dependent insomniac with abandonment issues and seventeen backup plans for every imaginable outcome.
What he is not, however, is delusional.
Which is why when he finds a kiss mark—an actual lipstick kiss mark—pressed to the inside of his favorite hoodie, he does not panic. He calmly, rationally, pulls the hoodie off, examines the fabric, and blames Steph. Probably Steph.
Except… it’s neon green. Not Steph’s color. Not Cass’s style either. Babs doesn’t do lipstick. Kon doesn’t own lipstick. And the only people who’ve been in his apartment recently are Bruce (definitely not), Damian (God, no), and Alfred (crime).
He throws the hoodie in the wash. Industrial cycle. Hot water. It should come out.
It doesn’t.
It doesn’t even fade.
It glows slightly under UV.
Okay. Fine. One hoodie. Maybe it’s old. Maybe he forgot something. Maybe he bought it that way.
But it happens again.
And again.
And again.
Old hoodies. New hoodies. Hoodies buried at the back of his closet that he hasn’t worn since he was sixteen. A hoodie still in the packaging, tags attached—he opens the bag and there’s a green kiss mark on the inside sleeve, like it’s been waiting for him.
They’re always placed differently. Sometimes hidden in the seam of a cuff. Sometimes pressed on the back hem. One tucked into the folds of a sleeve. One directly on the chest, over his heart.
He checks for tracking devices. Hidden ink. Sensors. Spoilers. Anything.
Nothing.
And it doesn’t stop with the hoodies.
One day, after a long patrol, he peels off his Red Robin gear and catches a glimpse of green near the collar of his suit. He freezes.
Another kiss mark. Same color. Right on the inside lining.
There’s one on his glove. One hidden under the fold of his utility belt pouch. One on the lining of his cape.
What’s worse? The Batcave scanners pick them up. There’s residual ectoplasm. Babs runs the data three times before looking at him like he’s either cursed or dating something from the beyond.
(He’s not. He’s pretty sure.)
Every attempt to investigate it fails. The cameras glitch. Video footage loops or scrambles. Laser grids are bypassed by something moving through walls. Magical wards short-circuit. Even Constantine shrugs when Tim reaches out.
“Strong liminal energy,” Constantine says, puffing a cigarette. “Someone’s got their spectral claws in you. Not a curse though. Feels like... courtship.”
“Courtship,” Tim repeats.
“Yeah. Spectral wooing. Ghost smooches. Congrats on your engagement, mate.”
Tim hangs up.
He doesn’t sleep that night.
Meanwhile, Gotham is experiencing what can only be described as “mild haunting.” But by Gotham standards, it’s barely a blip.
There are no mass possessions. No destructive battles. Just… ghosts. Hovering. Watching. Whispering things when Tim walks by. They show up at patrol spots. Float past his apartment. Some even drop cryptic notes: “May your union be fruitful,” and “Blessings upon the Chosen.” Occasionally they throw gifts at him. One leaves him a glowing thermos full of ghost flowers. Another—a floating knight in spectral armor—bows low while handing over a box of what Tim can only imagine is their version of chocolate, before vanishing with the words “For the chosen consort.”
Tim’s furious.
He’s not dating a ghost. He doesn’t know any ghosts. He doesn’t want to be courted by one.
...Probably.
Except.
Except sometimes, when he’s alone, he swears he feels someone there. Not threatening. Just present. A warmth in the air. A flicker in the corner of his eye. A soft sigh on the back of his neck. A whisper:
“Mine.”
And Danny Phantom—Protector of the Ghost Zone, King of the Infinite Realms, 100% a disaster bisexual—floats outside his window every other night with his face pressed against the glass like a cat trying to figure out if the human inside likes him.
Because Danny’s not trying to scare him! He’s just following tradition!
See, ghosts mark their chosen with energy. They ward off rivals. They court with gifts and blessings and acts of devotion. And yeah, maybe leaving lipstick marks on someone's battle gear is a little extreme, but Danny’s working with ghost etiquette, okay? And from where he's standing, no one's stopped him.
(Though Jason did try to stab him once. Danny considered it a bonding experience.)
Now Danny just needs Tim to say yes so the full wedding rite can be completed. The lipstick marks? Those are just... engagement placeholders.
The problem? Tim doesn’t know he’s essentially dating a ghost.
The bigger problem? Gotham’s ghosts do.
And they’re ready to throw hands with anyone who thinks they’re a better match for Tim Drake than the literal Ghost King himself.
Tim? He just wants one hoodie without magic lipstick on it. He’s not even asking for peace anymore. He just wants answers.
He’s so tired.
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namelessgakusei · 3 months ago
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Imagine, self aware men, who, some time after you picked up their comic to read, started noticing your presence.
It was faint, at first, just the feeling of someone watching them from afar, barely noticeable if not for their keen senses. He thinks it's a villain stalking him, or an alien too shy to ask for his help, but everytime he turns around, there's no one. Heck, he doesn't feel you behind him, you're everywhere!
Self aware men who, starts to notice something. You're not there every second of the day, only when something's happening, like when fighting off criminals or a major disaster. He starts to think that you're the reason for all of it, thinking that whenever he feels your presence, something's about to happen.
But then you're also there for the quiet moments. Those times when he doesn't have to be who he is in the public. When he's just himself again, either wallowing in his sadness or doing something mundane like household chores or just hanging out with friends. Maybe he's wrong with associating you with danger. You're just there.
Self aware men who starts to get curious about who you are. You've been with him since the start! Before he got his powers and became a hero/vigilante! You're there for the ups and downs. You're always by his side, like a silent support throughout everything. Who are you? Why are you here? Why him?
It was due to his involvement with magic, from a fight with a villain gone wrong or with the help of his comrades, that he finally got a glimpse of you. It was your eyes that he saw first, watching over him from the sky. You're... here. He can finally see you! Oh, you're beautiful!
Your face lights up whenever you see him, you brighten at the sight him! Only him! Oh stop it! You're going to make him crumble on spot!
Self aware men who, tried interacting with you, waving at your direction whenever he feels your presence, he finally knows where you are! He sometimes talks to you about his day, a bit vague enough to be understood like he's talking to himself.
You, on the other hand, is hella confused. Why is your favorite comic character acting like this? He's waving to nothing and saying things that won't make sense for the plot. You tried looking it up but found versions where none of it happened. Only the copy that you have in your hands shows this version of him. You know it isn't tampered with, you made sure to buy the editions from legitimate sources.
Meanwhile, he's giddy and kicking his feet. He saw how confused you are when he finally noticed you. You didn't expected it, didn't you? He should probably tone it down, you looked a bit scared.
Self aware men who, after some time, and more magic involvement, finally got to hear your voice. It makes him stop to soak in the sound. So this is how you sound like. He can hear your comments whenever something's happening, your cheers whenever he's fighting, your words of comfort whenever he's feeling down. Oh, you've been with him all this time... He wishes he could record your voice and hear it anytime he wants. But knowing that only he could see and hear you sends butterflies to his stomach. It's a special relationship reserved to only him and you!
Self aware men who, in some quiet nights, wonders what you are. You look, sound and act like human, but you're from a world beyond his. Are you from another dimension? Another Earth? How many worlds can you see? Is there others whom you visit aside from him?
The thought makes him sad, lonely even, as of course you're not fixated on him. Despite everything, he's not special, just someone who managed to catch your attention for a moment. You're out of his world, beyond being a human or an alien, untouched by what's happening around him.
He reaches a hand out to your direction, trying to grasp something that could make you stay. He doesn't know when you'll be gone or coming back, but he wants you to stay with him just a little while longer.
He wishes he could've been born in your world. Will you act the same if he is? Will you smile at his direction and talk to him like he's someone special in your life? He chokes a sob on that.
Self aware men who, smiles sadly at your direction, tragically separated in worlds.
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rpwprpwprpwprw · 5 months ago
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jeon jungkook fanfics: weekly recommendations edition 💌
hey this is my… new long… very long.. list of recently readings! let me know what you guys think cause this took forever to organize 😭 💋 (also is the letters too small?
jungkook masterlist
🌟 swipe right by @ppersonna (genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers | completed)
summary: after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?
my review
🌟 stuck with you by @aajjks (genre: crack, 18+) | ongoing (?)
summary: Imagine being stuck in a room with a walking nightmare who really wants to fuck you.
my review
🌟 what’s your name again? by @solarhysm (smut, oneshot) | completed
summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.
my review
🌟 teach me how to love by @kookooluvr (genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments) | pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers | ongoing
summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.
my review
🌟 webbed heartstrings by @focusonkayjay (genre/Tags: spiderman/ campus heartthrob! jungkook, college student! reader, friends (but not exactly) to lovers, i think they're in a situationship, spiderman au, spiderkook au, angst, fluff) | ongoing
my review
🌟 fuck me up by @jungkoode (genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut with plot, fuck buddies) | ongoing
summary: When your search for affordable NYC housing leads you to apartment 6B, you think you've hit the jackpot. That is, until you realize your new roommate is the guy from that one wild night on January - the one who ruined you for anyone else. Now you're stuck sharing walls with the living embodiment of your worst mistake, and the sexual tension is thick enough to choke on. Between his emotional damage and your trust issues, this arrangement is a disaster waiting to happen. But hey, at least the hate sex is phenomenal.
my review: my review my review
🌟 letting fear run the show by @focusonkayjay (genre/tags: fuckbuddy! jungkook, secret friends with benefits to lovers, angst, fluff, smut) | completed
my review:
🌟 playing the part by @goldenchimmy (genre: smut) | older!jk x reader, age gap | completed
summary: needing money for college, you come across an ad for a female escort. You didn't expect the person posting the ad to be a rich, older man.
my review
🌟 mutt by @letsbangts (genre: smut, angst, friends with benefits au) | fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk | completed
summary: when you realize you can’t teach an old dog new tricks
🌟 answer your phone by @letsbangts (genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au) | fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk | completed
summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling
🌟 the jorts by @gukslut (genre: Established Relationship/fluff/smut) | completed
my review
🌟 back and forth by @gukslut (genre: smut/fluff) | completed
my review
🌟 the speedo by @gukslut (genre: fluff/smut) | completed
summary: JK has fallen in love. Too bad the object of his affections thinks he’s a fuckboy who gets blowjobs in women’s locker rooms. How did Jungkook convince his future wife to give him a chance when none of his usual tricks  work? 
my review
🌟 freak - quency by @gukslut (genre: Smut/fluff, Sub!JK, Rockstar!JK AU, PWP) | completed
🌟 beyond the job by @kooggukk (genre: ?) | girl dad!jk x reader | ongoing
summary: babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)
🌟 vampire boy by @smartkookiee (genre: smut/supernatural) | vampire!Jungkook x human!Reader | ongoing
summary: So your boyfriend is a vampire…It’s actually not too different than having a human boyfriend. He is kind and caring and genuinely loves you. He’s just a touch afraid of garlic and he’s kind of cold. Other than that everything is the same and you couldn’t ask for anyone better. You cannot imagine spending your life with anyone else, except… it would be only your life going on. which wasn’t a problem… right
my review
🌟 true love by @lovieku (fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l) | tattoo artist!jk x reader | ongoing?
summary: when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.
my review
🌟 get him back by @inthelow (genre: fake relationships trope, kinda growing up womanhood thing, female rage (a LOT of female rage), funny but cringe in the same way, a lot of drama - in a comedy way but also very shitty things - a lot of bad jokes and some angst ) | f!producer/writer reader x idol!jungkook | ongoing
summary: after a hard breakup with who you thought would be the one, the only thing in your mind was a sad playlist of Taylor Swift songs and red wine. But, what happens when your neighbour- who is done of hearing you cry at 2 am in the morning - puts the idea in your head of getting your ex back? but with a good and sweet revenge… of course everything will be easier if you didn’t have any feelings for your ex and if your neighbour wasn’t a superstar idol who doesn’t have a problem at pretending to be your boyfriend to piss off that ex - who also happens to be his ex best friend -. What a mess, right?
my review
🌟 motive by @luvismenu (genre: smut, written) | brother's best friend , e2l , childhood friends
suqmmary: jungkook is your brother’s best friend, someone you’ve grown up with. the two of you have a knack for clashing, always throwing attitude and finding ways to piss each other off. yet, there’s a connection neither of you can ignore.
my review
🌟 sthings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode (genre: smut, superhero, spider-man au) | spiderkook x reader | ongoing
summary: You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.
my review
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solxamber · 9 months ago
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Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul Ashengrotto x reader
As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.
Series Masterlist
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You stare blankly at the manuscript in front of you, feeling your soul slowly withering away, shriveling like an overcooked raisin under the weight of yet another tragic tale of misguided villainy. The title alone—The Villainess Who Was Actually Just Trying to Mind Her Own Business and Got Beheaded Anyway—had already set the tone for what you could only describe as a disaster in prose form. How this had slipped through several rounds of quality control was beyond you.
Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it was revenge. You couldn’t tell anymore.
You take a deep breath, a sigh so deep that it feels like it's being dragged up from the depths of your very soul, a sigh that could only be summoned by a story so ridiculous, so absolutely bonkers, that even you—seasoned proofreader extraordinaire—were questioning every life choice that had brought you here.
"Okay," you mutter to yourself, flipping through the pages with all the energy of a reluctant retiree trying to pick up knitting. "Let's see. We’ve got your standard fantasy kingdom where every noble is born with elemental powers. Classic. The saintess is the only one who can wield all four elements. Cool, cool, makes sense." You pause, eyes narrowing. "Except for the villainess who's faking it with a magical rock she bought off of Fantasy Craigslist and just... does all the same stuff the saintess can do without actually, you know, saintess-ing anything bad. Just... being suspiciously good at wind and fire, I guess?"
You squint at the text like it’s personally offended you. "So let me get this straight. The heroine—who, by the way, isn’t the real saintess—finds out about the rock and immediately turns into the nation’s tattletale. Like, she just full-on rats the villainess out to the entire country and gets her beheaded for daring to do an accidental cosplay of a saintess? Seriously?"
You blink. "And the prince? The so-called male lead? He’s not even mad because the villainess was evil or anything. No. He’s mad because she... rejected him? Oh, so that’s the crime. She bruised his precious princely ego, so naturally she deserves to lose her head. Makes perfect sense. Absolutely logical," you deadpan, flipping another page with growing disdain.
“And just when you think it can’t get any dumber,” you continue to mutter, “the heroine uses the exact same magic rock after she gets the villainess killed, struggles to use half the power, but instead of everyone questioning her, they just...” You drag a hand down your face. “They just... pat her on the back for her effort? What? Oh, bravo! Standing ovation! You’re so talented! What a genius!”
You want to scream. You can feel it building up inside you, a primordial rage that no amount of fantasy drivel can suppress. How... how did this get published? How did someone not raise their hand and go, “Hey, maybe the heroine is the real villain here? And maybe the villainess is just really good at rock collecting?”
Your eye twitches.
Then you get to the part where Azul Ashengrotto—a.k.a. the business owner and kingpin of the information and assassination game—gets dragged down in this hot mess of a plot for the crime of selling a magical rock. He’s not even involved in the drama. He just sold a crystal, did his job, and suddenly he’s collateral damage in this ridiculous farce. And beheaded. You slap the manuscript down on your desk, nearly choking on the sheer absurdity of it all.
“He sold a rock!” you yell to no one. “One. Rock! And he loses his head because the heroine doesn’t know how to mind her own damn business! And no one bats an eye?”
You imagine Azul, standing there with a bemused expression as the sword comes down, probably muttering something like, "Well, this is an unfortunate turn of events."
You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around the sheer audacity of it all. "So, let me get this straight. The heroine kills the villainess out of jealousy and rage, takes the same stone, uses it poorly, and somehow becomes the saintess? And no one questions it? Not even one guy in the back going, ‘Hey, wait a minute...’?"
A laugh escapes you, bitter and incredulous. "I’ve lost all faith in fantasy kingdoms. They deserve what’s coming to them. Honestly, if their idea of justice is to murder anyone with a shiny rock collection, they probably deserve whatever apocalyptic disaster is waiting in book two."
You sit back in your chair, contemplating the many ways you could disappear off the face of the Earth to avoid reading the inevitable sequel. Maybe you could fake your own death? Dramatically crash through a window with a glitter bomb, leaving behind a cryptic note that reads, “Gone to buy a rock, brb.”
But no. You were a professional. You would soldier on.
Then again, if this novel could get published, maybe it was time to start your own writing career. Surely you could cobble together something halfway decent. Maybe a story about a villainess who just wants to live her life and ends up getting murdered by a heroine with a major inferiority complex. Oh wait, that’s literally this garbage fire in front of me.
You sigh again, this one even deeper, more existential than the last, the type of sigh that could bring about world peace if properly harnessed. Your eyes wander from the steaming pile of poorly written drivel, caught somewhere between disbelief and mild homicidal thoughts. You rub your temples, wondering if proofreading was really the best career path for someone who still had shreds of sanity left.
"Maybe I should've been a baker," you mumble to yourself, stretching your arms overhead. "At least bread dough doesn’t hit me with nonsensical plot twists."
As you stand, ready to grab a snack to soothe your wounded soul, you don’t notice the precariously stacked pile of villainess novels towering on the shelf above your desk. The entire collection of "disaster-bound fantasy heroines and their poor life choices" sways ever so slightly as you brush against the table, and then... it happens.
One moment you're contemplating the logistics of moving to a remote island where bad writing can’t reach you, and the next, you hear a spine-chilling creak followed by a horrifying cascade of poorly bound paperbacks. The avalanche of literary mediocrity comes crashing down on you in one tragically comedic sweep.
"Are you kidding me—" is all you manage to choke out before the entire bookshelf’s worth of subpar villainess novels crushes you beneath their illogical weight. And of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, the last book to hit you in the face is titled, "The Villainess Who Tripped and Fell into her Own Grave—Oops!"
As the darkness closes in, your final thought is one of supreme exasperation: I cannot believe I’m being killed by the worst plotlines ever written. Death by plot twist. Too soon, yet not soon enough.
And then nothing. Just silence. Peace, finally.
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You’d heard the phrase "no rest for the wicked," but honestly, who knew divine punishment was this over the top? Apparently, you'd racked up enough sins in your previous life to not only die under an avalanche of bad literature but to then be reincarnated into said literature. Because why not? The gods were clearly having a laugh.
When you open your eyes, you're not even phased. Nope. You don’t scream, cry, or panic. You just stare up at the overly ornate ceiling of what is clearly a mansion because, of course, the villainess is always absurdly rich. You're lying in an obnoxiously fluffy bed, and the first thing that pops into your mind is: Are you serious?
A quick glance in the mirror confirms it. There you are, standing in the overly frilly shoes of the villainess from the very same garbage novel that ended your life. Perfect. You take a deep breath, rub your temples (again), and give yourself a mental pep talk. "Okay, you’ve read this before, multiple times. You know the beats. You know the plot. You’ve got this."
Step one: don’t freak out. Because, really, this plot is bad enough without adding your personal panic to the mix. Step two: check the villainess's diary because, obviously, the previous inhabitant was stupid enough to leave all her secrets lying around like a teenager's unlocked Facebook account. Sure enough, you find it: a gloriously leather-bound journal detailing all the times plotted to impersonate the saintess. You roll your eyes. Not today, Satan.
You scan the pages, checking the timeline. You have a few months until the heroine rats you out, which means it’s time for step three: revenge. And no, you don’t mean the "oh, woe is me" type of revenge that makes you spiral into despair. You mean good old-fashioned pettiness, the kind that makes the heroine and the male lead’s lives miserable.
You can't help but snicker at the thought. It's karmic justice, really. They’re going to get a taste of the absolute horror you experienced reading their terrible, nonsensical love story. You spent hours proofreading their idiocy, now it's their turn.
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You stand in front of the towering, ominous doors of Azul Ashengrotto’s office at Mostro Lounge, taking a deep breath before pushing them open. The dark, almost theatrical ambiance inside feels like a stage set for the devil himself to offer you a deal. But you’re no saintess—you’re the villainess of this story, and you’re here to strike a deal that’ll flip the entire script on its head.
Azul looks up from his desk, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your presence. “Ah, My Lady,” he greets smoothly, slipping into that charming, calculating smile of his. “What brings you to my humble establishment? Shouldn't you be busy pretending to be a saintess?"
You roll your eyes and take a seat without waiting for an invitation. "About that... I've decided to cancel my order for the magic stone."
Azul’s expression falters. “Cancel the order? But aren’t you the one planning to impersonate the saintess and secure your place in the royal court?”
You lean back in your chair, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, plans change. I’ve come to realize that there's a much better way to spend my time and resources—mainly, by humiliating the heroine and the prince for fun.”
Azul blinks at you, the corners of his lips twitching as if he’s not sure whether to laugh or be intrigued. “You... want to humiliate the heroine and the prince?”
You shrug, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. “Why not? They’re gonna be responsible for my end if I impersonate the saintess. I’ve already decided that instead of dying gracefully, I’m going to make their lives miserable. And that’s where you come in.”
Azul folds his hands on his desk, the smile growing on his face. “I see. And what exactly do you expect me to do?”
You pull out a blank cheque, sliding it across his desk. “Whatever you want. My family is wealthy, and my parents will gladly dance upside down on a chandelier if I asked them to. Write any amount you want, but you’re going to help me with my new plan.”
Azul’s eyes flicker with interest as he glances at the cheque. “And what exactly would that plan entail?”
“I want you to sabotage them,” you say simply. “The heroine, the prince—they’re going to suffer public humiliation. Every time they try to play the part of the perfect couple or flaunt their status as the so-called chosen ones, I want you to make sure they fail spectacularly. We’re going to tear apart their reputations piece by piece, and I need your expertise.”
Azul leans back in his chair, tapping a finger to his chin. “That sounds... intriguing. But I do believe I’ll need a bit more than just money to make this worth my time.”
“Name your price,” you reply coolly. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
Azul’s smile widens, but it’s sharp. “I’ll take a hefty sum, of course. Let’s say... one hundred thousand gold. But I’ll also require two wishes that I can cash in at any time.”
Your brow arches. “Two wishes? And what exactly do you plan to use them for?”
Azul’s smile turns positively devilish. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something. It could be anything—information, a favor, perhaps something more. Who knows? I just want to keep my options open.”
You weigh the deal for a moment, then nod. “Fine. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. But I want results, Azul. Don’t disappoint me.”
Before he can respond, the door behind you slams open with a bang, and Floyd Leech strolls in, grinning ear to ear like a shark who’s just spotted its next meal. “Heh, you’re funny, Shrimpy,” he says, eyeing you with amusement. “This whole ‘let’s humiliate the prince and his little heroine’ thing? I like it. I’ll help. I wanna see the look on their faces when they get wrecked.”
Azul sighs dramatically. “Floyd, this is a delicate matter. You can’t just go around—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Floyd cuts him off, draping himself across your chair like a lazy cat. “But c’mon, wouldn’t it be more fun if I helped? We can make it real painful for ’em. How 'bout it, Shrimpy?”
You can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Honestly? I wouldn’t mind having you on board, Floyd. Your brand of chaos could be exactly what I need to really make them squirm.”
Floyd grins wider, nudging you playfully. “Now we’re talkin’! See, Jade? Shrimpy’s got taste.”
You glance over to where Jade is standing, quietly watching the entire exchange with a serene smile. “I’m not surprised,” he says in his calm, unsettling way. “After all, our esteemed client clearly knows how to turn a situation in their favor. It’s rather... admirable.”
You shoot Jade a look. “Please don’t make that sound like an insult.”
Jade chuckles softly. “Not at all. I find your tactics fascinating. I’ll be quite interested to see how this all unfolds.”
Azul clears his throat, clearly ready to bring the conversation back on track. “Well, if that settles it, we have a deal. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. Floyd and Jade will assist you, and I’ll personally oversee the sabotage.”
You grin, satisfied. “Perfect. Let’s give those two a taste of what real humiliation feels like.”
Azul inclines his head. “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear client.”
As you get up to leave, Floyd playfully bumps your shoulder again. “Heh, I like you, Shrimpy. Let’s make sure that prince and his girl get what’s coming to ’em. It’ll be a real laugh.”
You smirk as you make your way out of the office. “Oh, trust me, Floyd. This is going to be spectacular.”
And with that, the stage was set. The heroine and her precious prince had no idea what was coming their way. But you did—and with the help of the mischievous trio from Mostro Lounge, you were going to enjoy every second of it.
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The royal ballroom glistened with opulence as golden chandeliers hung above the vast marble floors, reflecting the lavishness of the night. The music was soft yet upbeat, a perfect backdrop for the event of the season. Nobles twirled gracefully around the room, engaged in light conversation as they eyed one another with thinly veiled curiosity. You stood at the entrance, the heavy doors creaking behind you as you took a deep breath.
The villainess in this world had been a little too subtle for her own good—dresses that were elegant but far too modest, more befitting of someone trying to sneak through the ranks as a saintess. But you? You had other ideas. You weren’t about to blend into the background. Oh no, tonight was all about making a splash.
The dress you wore was nothing short of a masterpiece. The neckline plunged just enough to be daring, the skirt flaring dramatically around your legs as you moved. The villainess had always had potential, you realized as you caught your reflection earlier that evening. With a little effort, she'd looked like a queen.
And apparently, that effort wasn’t lost on the crowd. Conversations stuttered to a stop as you walked in, eyes swiveling toward you like moths to a flame. A smirk tugged at your lips. Good. They could look all they wanted. Tonight, you were more than the villainess. You were a force to be reckoned with.
Of course, it didn’t take long for the male lead—Prince Arrogant-Entitled himself—to notice. He’d been chatting animatedly with the heroine, a sweet little thing dressed in pastels, who was practically bouncing on her feet with excitement.
But the moment you crossed the threshold, his gaze latched onto you like a leech, his conversation with the heroine cutting off mid-sentence as he abandoned her entirely. His eyes scanned you up and down with blatant appreciation, and you felt an unpleasant shiver crawl down your spine as he made his way toward you.
Sleazy little worm.
“My Lady,” he greeted you, standing too close for comfort. His voice dripped with what he likely assumed was charm. “You look ravishing tonight. I must say, your beauty is... overwhelming.”
You kept your expression neutral, though internally you gagged at his lackluster attempt at flirtation. The heroine, meanwhile, was glaring daggers from across the room. Not that it bothered you. Let her seethe.
You plastered on a fake smile, playing along for now. “Your Highness,” you replied, “I must say, your compliments are as subtle as ever.”
He laughed, his hand reaching out as if to brush your arm, but you sidestepped it gracefully. “You wound me, my lady,” he said, clearly trying to maintain the upper hand. “Would you honor me with a dance?”
You opened your mouth to deliver a polite but firm rejection, when suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tension with the smoothness of silk.
“Ah, apologies, Your Highness,” Azul’s voice was a breath of fresh air as he sidled up beside you, his arm slipping around your waist with practiced ease. “I’m afraid my date for the evening is already spoken for.”
The prince's face dropped, the smile frozen awkwardly as Azul’s words sunk in. You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to process how exactly this turn of events had occurred. “Your... date?” he stammered, looking between you and Azul.
Azul just smiled, that infuriatingly calm smile of his. “Yes,” he said, his tone light and polite but dripping with a silent victory. “I do hope you understand, Your Highness. After all, it wouldn’t do to leave such a radiant lady waiting, would it?”
You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Azul's ability to swoop in at just the right moment with perfect timing was nothing short of impeccable.
The prince was visibly flustered, caught completely off-guard by the public rejection. The heroine, still watching from across the room, looked like she was about to combust on the spot. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and you could practically feel the heat of her glare boring holes into you.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” you said, dipping into a mocking little curtsy. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
And with that, you took Azul’s arm and let him lead you away from the prince, who stood frozen in humiliation as the ballroom buzzed with whispers around him.
As soon as you were out of earshot, Azul turned to you with an amused grin. “You seemed to be having fun back there.”
“Oh, I was,” you replied, chuckling. “But not as much fun as I’m about to have dancing with you.”
Azul raised an eyebrow, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as the two of you began to sway to the music. “Careful now,” he teased. “If you keep up that flirting, I might just start blushing.”
You grinned, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I thought you were immune to such things. What happened to your infamous poker face?”
“Hmm, perhaps I underestimated your charms,” he mused, his voice lower now as he twirled you effortlessly around the dance floor. “You certainly know how to keep a man on his toes.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Is that so? Because I think you’re the one getting flustered, Azul.”
His smirk faltered for just a moment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. You knew you had him.
But then, just when you thought you had the upper hand, Azul dipped you suddenly, causing a surprised squeak to escape your lips. He leaned over you, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“Flustered, hmm?” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. “I think you may have that backward, my dearest client.”
You blinked up at him, momentarily caught off-guard by the intensity in his eyes. Damn it—he was good at this.
“Well played,” you muttered, feeling your own cheeks heating up now.
Azul chuckled softly, pulling you back up into his arms as the music continued to swell around you. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We can call this round a draw.”
You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Fine. But don’t think this is over.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a wink.
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You’re jolted awake by the sound of frantic knocking on your bedroom door, followed by your maids bursting in like the world was ending. “My Lady!” one of them squeals. “The mafia is breaking into the house!”
Now, any sane person would hear this and immediately take steps to flee, barricade themselves in, or at the very least, hide under the bed. But you? No. In your infinite wisdom, still half asleep and probably only functioning on half a brain cell, you bolt out of bed and head straight to the living room like you’re ready to take on a gang of mobsters in your nightgown. What was it that you always said about wanting more excitement in life?
You storm into the living room, ready to confront the so-called "mafia," only to be greeted by none other than Azul, Jade, and Floyd. Well, they weren’t exactly what you expected, but then again, the maids had screamed ‘mafia,’ and these three did dabble in... questionably legal activities.
Floyd's already poking through your vase of expensive flowers, looking completely at home, while Jade is smiling in that eerie way of his that makes it hard to tell if he’s genuinely amused or planning to harvest your organs.
“Good morning,” Azul greets you smoothly, like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Apologies for the intrusion, but we have urgent business to discuss.”
You stare at them for a long moment, your confusion building. “I didn’t make an appointment with you guys. Did you make an appointment with me?”
Jade’s eyes gleam with mischief. “No appointment, but we’ve come across some information we thought you’d be interested in.”
You cross your arms, already sensing the chaos about to unfold. “Go on…”
“Well,” Jade says, stepping forward with an innocent smile (which, of course, is anything but), “it seems the prince and his little heroine are planning to attend a charity event today to show off their ‘generosity.’”
Floyd pops up behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulder like you’re best friends. “Want to crash it?” he asks, grinning wildly, his sharp teeth flashing. “It’s bound to be fun. Who knows what kinda trouble we can stir up?”
Azul adjusts his glasses, looking thoughtful yet undeniably excited. “There could be some... interesting opportunities there,” he muses. “And I wouldn’t mind attending, purely for business reasons, of course.”
You blink at them. Charity event? Crashing? Making the prince and heroine’s lives miserable? Well, hell, why not? You did wake up to the mafia in your living room, after all. “Fine,” you say with a smirk, “let’s do it. Let’s crash this event and see how generous our dear prince really is.”
The four of you arrive at the event like a troupe of misfits dressed in their Sunday best. The venue is packed with people, all fawning over the prince and the heroine like they’re some divine beings sent down to bless the peasants. The heroine’s practically glowing as she bathes in their attention, her overly sweet voice echoing through the hall as she accepts praise for what is—let’s be real here—a laughably small donation, considering who they are.
You can’t help but roll your eyes. The prince and heroine are practically bathing in the affection of these poor, unsuspecting people. "Oh, how generous they are!" people cry. "Such saints, oh thank the heavens!"
Yeah, not today, airhead.
You nudge Azul. “Let’s show them how it’s really done.”
Azul, already ahead of you, strides confidently toward the stage. You follow, not missing a beat, and together, you announce—no, proclaim—that you will be tripling the total amount of donations for the event.
The reaction is immediate. Complete chaos erupts. The organizers start crying tears of joy, running up to you with such fervor that you have no choice but to stand there and accept their hugs and gratitude, despite your overwhelming desire to swat them away. Floyd, cackling like a hyena, is playfully lifting some of them off the ground in his bear-like hugs, while Jade just stands off to the side, watching the chaos unfold with a bemused smile, occasionally offering polite nods of acknowledgment.
The prince, who had been gloating only moments before, now looks like he’s been slapped in the face. His expression is priceless—shock, embarrassment, and barely concealed rage all battling for dominance. The heroine’s smile has dropped completely, replaced with a furious scowl as she watches the organizers fawn over you instead. Her fists are clenched at her sides, and you can see the very moment her fragile ego shatters. Oh, how delicious.
Amidst all the madness, you catch yourself actually smiling—not one of your usual smirks or devious grins, but a genuine, warm smile. As much as this was all meant to be a petty revenge plan, you can’t deny the satisfaction that comes from seeing these people so happy. It's almost... heartwarming.
Azul turns to you at that exact moment, his usually calm expression softening as he sees your smile. He blinks, clearly caught off-guard by how radiant you look. For a split second, he seems to lose his composure, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink.
“You’re smiling,” he says, his voice almost quiet. “It suits you.”
You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What, you’ve never seen me smile before?”
“Not like that,” Azul admits, his usual poise faltering as he looks down at you with something akin to awe. “It’s... different.”
Before you can respond, Floyd suddenly slides up between you, throwing an arm around both you and Azul with a grin. “Oho! Azul’s gettin’ all blushy on us, huh?” he teases, eyes glinting mischievously. “Careful, Shrimpy. You might actually be softening him up.”
Azul huffs, pushing Floyd away with a barely contained scowl. “You’re insufferable, Floyd.”
“Oh, come on, boss!” Floyd laughs, ruffling Azul’s hair before darting away to avoid his retaliation. “Just admit it, you’re totally into ‘em!”
Jade sidles up next to you, his ever-present smile in place. “Well, it seems things are progressing quite nicely,” he says, his tone light but teasing. “Perhaps we’ll see more of this warmth from you, hm? It’s quite refreshing.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Oh, shut up, both of you,” you say, though there’s no real malice in your words.
As the crowd around you finally begins to disperse, you feel a strange sense of contentment. Sure, you came here for revenge, but now? Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
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Azul’s first wish. He could’ve asked for anything—power, prestige, wealth beyond imagination. But no, he wants to open a café. A legit café. Sure, his shady business would still run in the background, but this time, he wanted something wholesome, something real. And of course, he wants you to sponsor it, not just with money but with your influence—Queen of the Social World that you are after your fabulous ball stunt.
You’re intrigued, mostly because it’s Azul, but also because, well, it was a bit funny imagining him in a cute apron, serving cakes and coffee like some innocent café owner. But business was business, and you were all in.
The following weeks were spent in an intense whirlwind of planning with Azul, Floyd, and Jade. What started as you simply agreeing to fund Azul’s café spiraled into you helping them design the entire place, from choosing the colors of the tiles to picking out the cups, to menu planning. You found yourself oddly invested, not because Azul asked for your help, but because, strangely enough, you liked spending time with them.
Like tonight, for example. You were supposed to be working on the café’s logo, but instead…
“Stay still, Floyd,” you muttered as you carefully painted his nails. Floyd, surprisingly, wasn’t squirming, but he was giving Jade some ridiculous side-eye. “If you mess this up, I swear, I’ll let Jade poison you with the mushrooms.”
Jade chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Poison? Now that’s an interesting accusation. I thought we were discussing the edible variety.”
“Oh, don’t play innocent, Jade. I’ve read up on your particular interests,” you quipped, finishing off one of Floyd’s fingers and moving on to the next. “And besides, everyone knows you’re a master of both the edible and the... not-so-edible.”
Floyd, meanwhile, grinned at you. “Shrimpy! You know, you're real funny, you know that? I should make you my personal nail artist. You’re doing way better than Jade ever did!”
Jade gave Floyd a look, crossing his arms in mock offense. “Please, Floyd. My skills are exceptional, but you insist on ruining the results every time.”
You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s because Floyd never sits still long enough for anything decent to happen. Isn’t that right?” You turned to Floyd, who was just nodding along like you’d given him the biggest compliment of the year.
Azul entered the room at that moment, looking slightly confused to find you painting Floyd’s nails. Without missing a beat, you reached out and tugged him over, all casual. “You’re next, Azul. Sit.”
He blinked at you, half surprised and half flustered by how natural this all felt. “I-I didn’t realize I’d signed up for this,” he stammered but still sat down beside you like he couldn’t refuse.
“You didn’t. But now you’re here, and you’ll be leaving with your nails looking fabulous,” you said with a grin. You took his hand, and despite how awkwardly he tried to keep his composure, you felt him relax under your touch.
“So, what were you discussing before I arrived?” Azul asked, glancing between you and Jade, who was still sitting nearby.
“Mushrooms,” Jade said with an oddly proud smile. “Our friend here is surprisingly knowledgeable about rare species. It’s rather refreshing to have such an... engaged conversation partner.”
“Well,” you said, dipping the nail brush back into the polish, “you’d be surprised what you can pick up after spending a considerable amount of time researching... various topics.”
“Of course,” Jade said, his smile just a little too knowing for your liking. But you didn’t take the bait, instead focusing on Azul’s hand, painting a particularly delicate pattern with precision.
As you finished Azul’s nails, Floyd suddenly launched himself at you, wrapping you in an unexpected squeeze. “Shrimpy! You’re my best friend now. Best. Friend.”
You barely had time to react as he practically crushed you, and you patted his back with a small laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment... Floyd. Now, could you maybe let me breathe?”
Azul, who had been watching the exchange with a soft look on his face, finally stepped in. “Floyd, don’t suffocate our sponsor, please.”
Floyd reluctantly let you go but stayed attached to your side like a loyal puppy. “But Shrimpy’s so soft and fun!”
You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving Floyd away. “Okay, okay. Back off, or you’ll mess up your nails.”
Jade chuckled again, his gaze softening as he watched the three of you. “I must say, I never thought we’d be having... a sleepover, of sorts.”
You laughed. “Neither did I, to be honest. But I don’t mind. It’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Relaxing, being able to just... exist.”
Azul glanced down at his newly painted nails, feeling the warmth of the room and the camaraderie between you all. “Yes,” he murmured softly, “it is.”
And for a brief moment, Azul found himself wishing that nights like these could last forever.
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The sun was already low on the horizon as you made your way toward Mostro Lounge, your daily visits now a routine you couldn’t seem to avoid. It had become a comforting ritual: meeting Azul, Jade, and Floyd, where the lines between business and friendship blurred into late-night planning sessions. You had just started to hum softly to yourself when a figure stepped into your path, blocking your way.
You stopped short, frowning as you recognized the sleazy, arrogant smirk plastered on the Crown Prince's face. He was the last person you wanted to deal with today. Or ever.
“There you are,” the prince drawled, taking a step closer to you, his hand reaching for your arm. “I’ve been thinking about you. Why don’t you stop all this nonsense and reconsider me as a suitor, hmm? You know I can offer you far more than Azul ever could.”
You stiffened as his hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip tighter than necessary, and you glared up at him. “Let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth.
The prince’s expression darkened, and he yanked you closer with a cruel tug. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You should be grateful I’m even giving you the time of day—”
A loud, unmistakable voice interrupted. “Oi, you slimy bastard!” Floyd’s voice boomed from behind you, and the next thing you knew, the prince’s hand was wrenched off your wrist as Floyd grinned down at him with an unsettling amount of excitement in his eyes. “You wanna keep those fingers or should I snap ‘em off for ya?”
The prince recoiled, his confidence wavering as Floyd stepped between the two of you, looking unhinged and ready to throw down at any moment. “Do you have any idea who I am—”
Floyd just laughed, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop. “You really think I care? Touch Shrimpy again, and I’ll show you why it’s a bad idea.”
Just as the prince looked like he was going to say something, Jade appeared at your side, his presence cold and menacing. His polite smile only made the threat more ominous. “Your Highness, I believe my brother gave you a fair warning. I suggest you heed it unless you wish to experience... unpleasant consequences.”
The prince looked between the two brothers, weighing his options. Though his pride was clearly hurt, the danger in their eyes finally seemed to register. He took a step back, sneering at you. “This isn’t over.”
“Oh, but it is,” Jade said, his smile never faltering. “If you value your position and your life.”
With that, the prince turned on his heel and left, and it wasn’t until his retreating figure disappeared that you realized you were shaking. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your knees weak, and your breath came out shakier than you wanted it to.
“Shrimpy, you okay?” Floyd’s voice was softer now, lacking its usual teasing tone. He turned to you, his expression shifting from anger to concern.
Jade, too, watched you carefully. “You’re trembling. Are you hurt?”
You shook your head, biting your lip to stop the quiver. Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Floyd first, burying your face in his chest. He stiffened for a second, surprised, before his arms enveloped you gently, as if unsure of how much pressure to apply.
“‘S okay, Shrimpy,” Floyd mumbled into your hair. “I gotcha.”
You let out a shaky breath, feeling Jade’s comforting hand rest on your shoulder. When you pulled away from Floyd, Jade was there too, his smile uncharacteristically soft. You hugged him as well, and for a moment, all the tension seemed to melt away as the Leech brothers stood there, silently offering their comfort.
By the time you made it to Mostro Lounge, Azul was already waiting, his expression brightening when he saw you approach—until he noticed your pale face and the tight look of concern on both Floyd and Jade’s features.
“What happened?” Azul asked immediately, his voice sharper than usual.
You hesitated for a second, glancing toward the twins. But before you could answer, Floyd spoke up. “The damn prince tried to pull some shit with Shrimpy.”
Azul’s entire demeanor darkened, the air around him thickening with icy fury. “Is that so?” His voice was calm, too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I see. Well, it seems our little game has taken a new turn.”
You blinked up at him, confused. “Azul?”
Azul turned to you, his stormy eyes locking with yours, and despite the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, he smiled—a smile that sent chills down your spine, but also made you feel... protected. “From this point on, your revenge is my revenge. I won’t allow that fool to get away with this.”
You could only nod as the weight of his words settled over you. What had started as a personal vendetta was now much larger. Azul had made it personal, and with his intelligence and the Leech brothers by your side, you had no doubt the prince would soon regret the day he ever laid a hand on you.
Azul reached out and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make sure he never forgets this lesson.”
And with that, you knew—there was no going back now. It wasn’t just about your revenge anymore. You had a powerful ally who was more than willing to turn the tables. And for the first time since you’d been thrown into this chaotic world, you felt truly... safe.
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It all started with a completely innocent plan.
Well, innocent in the way that any plan involving Jade and Floyd Leech could be. You were sitting in Azul's office, sipping tea, when Floyd flopped onto the sofa like a bored toddler who’d been forced to sit through an economics lecture.
"Ugh, I’m bored,” he groaned, throwing an arm dramatically over his face. “Let’s go mess with someone. Like, now.”
Azul, across from you, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have work to do, Floyd. You can’t just—"
“I wanna mess with someone," Floyd whined, cutting him off, “and you know who’s real fun to squish? That princessy little heroine.”
Your ears perked up. Oh no. No, no. This was bad.
But also tempting.
Azul gave you a side-eye like he already knew you were considering the chaos. “We’re not doing this,” he said firmly, like he was talking to two feral cats he had to babysit.
Jade, standing ever-so-politely by the door with his signature smile, chimed in. “I must say, brother, it does sound like a rather… entertaining idea.” His eyes glinted in that creepy way that made you unsure if he was plotting your doom or just mentally filing away a new tea recipe involving venomous plants.
“YESSS!” Floyd shot up from the couch, his mood doing a complete 180. “Let’s go squish her, let’s go squish—"
“No,” Azul snapped, sending you a warning look. “Don’t encourage this.”
You, of course, ignored the warning look entirely. “I mean… it's not the worst idea in the world.” You gave a dramatic sigh. “Someone has to put her in her place.”
Azul’s eye twitched. “We had a plan—”
“And now we have fun,” you interrupted, standing up and straightening your jacket like you were about to lead an army into battle. “Come on, Azul. When was the last time we had fun?”
Azul opened his mouth to retort, but Floyd was already bouncing around the room like a hyperactive puppy. “Ooooh, we’re gonna have fun, we’re gonna have fun!”
Jade, always the picture of composure, smiled serenely. “Shall I prepare the necessary… ingredients?”
Azul looked like he was about to pass out from sheer exasperation. “What ingredients?!”
But it was too late. The twins were already in full scheming mode, and you were all-in.
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Twenty minutes later, you were sneaking—well, you were sneaking. Jade was strolling casually, and Floyd was giggling—through the palace gardens where the heroine had set up her usual tea party, surrounded by noble ladies with IQs lower than the calorie count of their diet biscuits.
The plan was simple: make her life miserable. The execution, however, was where it got beautifully wacky.
Floyd had brought a lot of frogs. (Don’t ask where he got them.)
The heroine was sitting, blissfully unaware, serving tea and playing the perfect little princess as usual. You felt your eye twitch just looking at her.
“Eww,” Floyd whispered beside you, wrinkling his nose. “She’s got that gross fake smile on again. Makes me wanna squish her even more.”
“Patience, Floyd,” Jade murmured, handing him a cup of “tea”—which was, in reality, some concoction Jade had brewed that you suspected involved swamp water. “We mustn't rush.”
Azul, standing beside you, was facepalming so hard you were surprised his glasses didn’t snap in two. “This is a disaster.”
You grinned. “No, this is a masterpiece.”
Just as the heroine raised her cup to sip her tea, Floyd, who was clearly too impatient to wait for subtlety, threw three frogs straight at the tea table.
SPLAT!
Chaos. Utter chaos. The noble ladies screamed, cups and saucers flew, and the heroine herself jumped back like the frogs were molten lava. Her chair tipped, and she fell—right into the flowerbed, splashing herself with tea and dirt.
Jade clapped politely, ever the gentleman. “Bravo, Floyd. That was an excellent throw.”
The heroine scrambled to her feet, gasping and red-faced, frantically brushing dirt and tea from her dress. “Wh-what—how dare—"
“Oh nooooo,” Floyd said, dramatically clasping his hands to his cheeks. “It looks like you fell! So clumsy! And right before your party too. That’s soooo embarrassing~!”
Azul turned to you with a look that screamed I told you this was a bad idea.
You, however, were practically glowing. “This is the best day of my life.”
“I-I’ll have you all arrested!” the heroine spluttered, her hair falling in disarray as she glared daggers at you and the Leech twins.
“Oh?” you said sweetly, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “For what? Frogs? You think we command amphibians, your grace? You’re so flattering.”
Azul cleared his throat, stepping in with his best diplomatic smile. “Now, now, let’s not escalate this. It was clearly an unfortunate mishap, and I’m sure you’ll be able to recover… in time.”
The heroine narrowed her eyes at him, her cheeks burning in humiliation. ��You think this is funny, don’t you?!”
Floyd leaned over Azul’s shoulder, grinning like a shark. “I think it’s hilarious.”
Before she could retort, Jade suddenly stepped forward, his usual calm smile widening just a bit too much. “Perhaps it would be wise to retreat and freshen up, Miss. After all, one mustn’t linger in such… messy conditions.”
She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then—seeing the eyes of all the other noble ladies on her, their whispers starting to spread—she whirled around, storming off with a huff.
As soon as she was out of sight, you and Floyd doubled over, laughing like lunatics.
Azul, pinching the bridge of his nose again, shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m associated with any of you.”
“Oh, come on, Azul!” you managed to say through giggles, wiping a tear from your eye. “This was gold!”
“I still think we should’ve used the snakes,” Floyd added, totally serious.
Jade, always the perfectionist, just gave a little hum. “Next time, perhaps.”
Azul sighed deeply, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment. “I need a vacation.”
You clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Azul. Admit it. You had fun.”
He glanced at you, his lips twitching slightly as if he was fighting a smile. “…Perhaps.”
And with that, the four of you left the wreckage of the tea party behind, victorious and full of glee. The heroine would be recovering from this disaster for weeks.
Sometimes, revenge really was a dish best served with frogs.
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The evening was quiet as you and Azul strolled through the town, the air filled with the subtle hum of night creatures, the scent of blooming flowers mixing with the cool night breeze. It was peaceful. Too peaceful, perhaps, as you noticed Azul shifting nervously beside you.
"Are you alright?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, watching as he straightened his posture a little too quickly. He was trying to play it cool, but you could tell that there was something bothering him.
"Of course," he replied with an air of forced calm. "Just enjoying the evening, that's all."
You nodded, though his tenseness made you smile internally. Here was Azul, calm and collected under all circumstances—except in moments like these, where even the tiniest of things could throw him off. It was charming, really.
And then, out of nowhere, a loud rustling erupted from the nearby bushes. Before you could react, Azul let out a strangled, startled yelp, practically leaping into your arms in an impressive feat of acrobatics you hadn’t quite expected. You blinked down at him, his arms clinging tightly to your shoulders as he cowered against you.
“W-what was that?!” he stammered, clearly shaken, his eyes darting around like a nervous prey animal.
You craned your neck to see what had caused the commotion, only to spot… a particularly fat raccoon waddling out of the bushes. The creature glanced at you lazily, munched on a discarded piece of bread, and then ambled away into the night.
“Azul,” you began slowly, “it’s just a raccoon.”
Azul, looking rather pale, cleared his throat and tried to regain his dignity, though he was still very much in your arms. "I-I see… It merely startled me, that’s all."
For a moment, you considered putting him down, but then you looked at him—his wide, flustered eyes, his pink-tinged cheeks—and decided, "Nope." With a little shift, you adjusted his weight in your arms and started walking again, as if carrying the mafia boss-turned-café-owner like a blushing bride was the most normal thing in the world.
Azul blinked. "What are you doing?"
"Carrying you," you said simply.
"But—"
"No ‘buts.’ Just relax," you said cheerfully, striding forward. Azul's face went from mildly shocked to utterly dumbfounded as you continued to carry him through the quiet town square like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Honestly, you’re pretty light,” you teased, trying to hold back a grin. “I should carry you more often.”
Azul cleared his throat, his face a deep crimson now, but you didn’t miss the way his arms stayed looped around your shoulders. His voice was a little quieter when he finally spoke again. “Well, if you insist…”
You chuckled, enjoying his rare moment of vulnerability. As much as he liked to keep his composed businessman mask, Azul clearly wasn’t immune to your charm. You could see it in the way he leaned a little closer, and for a moment, the teasing gave way to something softer, something a little more real.
When you finally set him down after several streets of wandering, Azul adjusted his glasses, his composure returning. But then he turned to you, an odd glint in his eye. “You know… I’ve been thinking. About a way to get back at the prince.”
Your eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. “Oh? Do tell.”
He folded his arms behind his back, looking as though he was trying to frame this in a way that didn’t reveal too much. “It’s quite simple, really. A business arrangement. A… fake engagement.”
You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. He cleared his throat and continued. “If we pretend to be engaged, it would irritate the prince, perhaps even force him into a rash decision. It would also be good for my public image. And, of course, you would gain the satisfaction of seeing him completely humiliated.”
You stared at him for a moment, then smirked. “Azul… do you want to date me?”
He choked on absolutely nothing, sputtering, “W-what— I— that’s not what I said—”
You rolled your eyes, amused by how he was floundering. “It’s fine, Azul. I get it. You want to date me. You don’t have to frame it like a business deal.”
Azul blinked rapidly, caught between mortification and something else—something that looked like hope. “Well, that’s… I mean…”
“And if you really want to make it official,” you continued with a grin, “why don’t we just make the engagement real?”
Azul’s flustered expression softened into something utterly pleased. For a moment, he stood there, barely containing the wide smile that threatened to break free. “You… You’d really consider that?”
“I think it would be fun,” you said with a wink. “Plus, it’ll definitely piss off the prince.”
Azul finally allowed himself to smile—a genuine, relieved smile that made your heart skip a beat. “In that case… I would be honored.”
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The next morning, you decided to really turn things up a notch. You knew the prince and the heroine were planning to spend their day parading around the town square, fishing for compliments and praise. So, naturally, you decided to plan your very public proposal right in the middle of their little event.
You stood with Azul in the town square, both of you perfectly dressed for the occasion. The crowd gathered, waiting for the prince’s grand appearance, but before he could make his big entrance, you stole the spotlight. Grabbing Azul’s hand, you dragged him to the center of the square, and with a dramatic flourish, you dropped to one knee.
“Azul Ashengrotto,” you began, projecting your voice loud enough for the entire square to hear, “will you do me the honor of becoming my fiancé?”
The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling through the commoners. The prince, who had just appeared with the heroine on his arm, looked absolutely dumbfounded, while the heroine herself looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.
Azul, ever the dramatic actor, placed a hand over his heart as if he was deeply moved. “Of course!” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It would be my greatest honor.”
The crowd erupted into applause as you slipped a ring onto his finger, and Azul pretended to wipe away a tear, leaning in to whisper, “You know, I didn’t think you’d go this far.”
You grinned up at him, whispering back, “Well, you’re the one who wanted to fake it. Might as well make it memorable.”
Azul let out a small laugh, then looked at you with something softer in his eyes. “I have to admit… this isn’t so bad.”
And for the first time since this whole revenge plot began, you found yourself feeling… happy. Not just because you’d embarrassed the prince and heroine, though that certainly was satisfying. But because standing here, with Azul by your side, it felt like maybe, just maybe, this arrangement could be more than just a scheme.
Azul sniffled dramatically, playing up the moment for all it was worth, but you saw the genuine affection in his eyes. And as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, you couldn’t help but smile, truly and honestly happy for once—happy just to exist here with Azul, your hand firmly in his.
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Tea parties were the bane of your existence. Seriously, you’d rather file taxes for a hundred years or listen to the prince’s self-praising monologues on loop than sit at one more dainty little table surrounded by frills and forced giggles. But, here you were, once again trapped in the depths of social hell, smiling so hard your face muscles were cramping.
“Isn’t this just delightful?” one of the duchesses chirped, her laugh tinkling like a bell forged from your nightmares. You could practically hear your soul dying.
You plastered on a fake smile. “Absolutely. A dream come true.”
Across the table, the heroine herself—Miss Sunshine and Butterflies—fluttered around like she was hosting the fanciest gala of the year. You bit back a groan as she served tea to everyone, her stupidly sweet smile never faltering. But there was a gleam in her eye, something almost off about the way she was handing out those cups.
You squinted. Was it just you, or did her eyes always look like that? Beady little things, like a snake pretending to be a fluffy bunny. Ugh, maybe it was just her entire vibe that set you off. You wouldn’t be surprised if she threw in a few spiteful herbs just to ruin your day further.
“Here you go!” she chirped, placing a cup of Rosehip in front of you. Her eyes gleamed again.
Okay, weird.
Before you could think too hard about it, Azul’s hand slid across the table. With a smooth, practiced movement, he swapped your cup with his, like this was a perfectly normal thing to do.
You blinked at him, raising a brow. “What? Did you want rosehip that badly?”
Azul smiled, giving you a soft shrug. “I’ve always been partial to it.”
That was… well, typical Azul. You shrugged it off. Maybe he just wanted to get a taste of a different blend, and it wasn’t like you were going to argue over tea.
And then he took a sip.
And immediately coughed up blood.
"Azul?!" you shrieked, eyes widening as he doubled over, clutching his throat. The teacup slipped from his hand and shattered against the table. Panic shot through your chest like a dagger.
"Oh my god, Azul!" you were up and out of your chair faster than you’d ever moved in your life, diving next to him on the floor as his coughing turned wet and ragged. Blood splattered onto the pristine tablecloth, and all you could hear was your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “No, no, no, NO, this is NOT happening!”
Azul’s face was turning ashen, his breathing shallow, and you were completely losing it.
“What the hell was in that tea?!” You turned, glaring murderously at the heroine, who just stood there, wide-eyed and shocked. Your hands trembled as you pulled Azul closer, cradling his head against your lap like he was going to die any second.
“Stay with me, dammit! Don’t you DARE leave me like this!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. “We haven’t even finished the damn revenge plot, you idiot! I-I didn’t even get to tell you I like you!”
Healers finally came rushing in, but by then you were an absolute mess—full-on ugly crying, gripping Azul’s shirt so hard your knuckles turned white. You were inconsolable, practically wailing like the world was ending because, to you, it really felt like it was.
“P-please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t die, okay?! You can have my soul, my fortune, my entire wardrobe, I don’t care! I’ll even stop plotting revenge, just don’t—don’t—” you hiccupped through sobs, nearly incoherent at this point.
Somehow, through your hysterical bargaining with the universe, the healers managed to stabilize Azul. His breathing evened out, the blood stopped flowing, and you could hear them saying something about the poison wearing off. But all you could do was sit there, holding him as the storm of emotions tore through you like a hurricane.
It felt like an eternity before he was finally awake and stable, sitting up in bed after what felt like the longest, most agonizing night of your life. And when you saw him there, looking far too smug for someone who had just almost died, you snapped.
“What the hell was that?!” You stormed into the room, furious tears still clinging to your lashes. “What in the name of all that’s holy possessed you to drink that?!”
Azul blinked at you, clearly not expecting the outburst. “I didn’t want you to get hurt—”
“I DON’T CARE!” you shrieked, pacing around like a madwoman. “You almost died! Do you have any idea what that did to me?!”
Azul opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, throwing your hands up. “The deal’s off, Azul! I’m done! No more revenge, no more schemes, I don’t want to be a part of this if you’re gonna be coughing up blood and nearly dying on me!”
You were about two seconds away from spiraling into another sobfest when suddenly, Azul grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him. Before you could even protest, his lips crashed onto yours, shutting you up immediately.
You blue screened.
For a solid five seconds, all you could think was: Oh, he’s kissing me. And then, Wait, he's kissing me!
He pulled back, looking exasperated and amused all at once. “Will you calm down?” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to see this through. For you.”
You blinked, completely thrown off. “But… why?”
“Because,” he smirked, “you’re not the only one with a vendetta. And, well,” his eyes softened a little, “because I care about you.”
Your heart stuttered, and you stared at him, still not quite over the kiss. “You what?”
Azul chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare sight of you being completely speechless. “Sounds like you care about me too,” he teased. “Or did I hallucinate you confessing your undying love while I was poisoned?”
Your face flushed red, and you crossed your arms defensively. “I wasn’t confessing my undying love, I was panicking, okay? But, yeah. Fine. I like you. I was gonna tell you sooner, but then you had to go and die on me.”
Azul raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t die.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled. “You almost did.”
He laughed, and you swore your heart did a little flip. “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up…” he leaned closer again, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What do you say we continue this revenge plot? With less near-death experiences, of course.”
You eyed him warily. “Only if you promise to never pull that shit again.”
Azul chuckled and gave you a playful, solemn look. “I promise.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still pounding as you leaned in, pulling him into another kiss. And this time, there was no poison, no tears, no panic—just the two of you, finally on the same page for once.
And maybe, just maybe, you could pull off this revenge scheme and come out of it with something even better.
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It was a party meant for the elite of the kingdom—everyone who considered themselves someone was present. Glistening chandeliers, extravagant gowns, and enough fake smiles to power an entire city. But all you could focus on was the prince—who was pretending not to undress you with his eyes from across the ballroom—and the heroine, fluttering about with her fake miracles and equally fake modesty.
You stood by Azul, nursing a glass of wine and feeling like your patience was thinner than ever. But tonight was the night. The two of you had been planning this for weeks. Everything was in place, and the heroine and the prince were about to get the public humiliation they so richly deserved. The prince, with his wandering hands and slimy charm, had made it no secret he was obsessed with you, the villainess. And the heroine? A conniving fraud with no real powers, just cheap tricks and affairs with every married noble she could get her hands on. They were perfect for each other.
Azul adjusted his glasses, his smirk subtle but telling. “Are you ready?”
You glanced at him, a wicked grin spreading across your face. “Born ready.”
The two of you exchanged a nod, and as Azul sauntered toward the prince’s little circle of sycophants, you made your way toward the heroine, who was doing her best impression of a saintly flower surrounded by admirers. The second you reached her, she turned to you with that fake smile, the kind that said I wish I could set you on fire, but I’ll settle for pretending to like you.
“Ah, it’s so good to see you,” she cooed, her eyes scanning you for a flaw to latch onto.
You gave her a saccharine smile, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Likewise. I couldn’t help but overhear your little chat about your latest miracle—what was it this time? Turning water into wine?”
She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh, nothing so grand. Just helping a few people in need, as always.”
“Helping?” you raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall several of those ‘people in need’ being married men. Some of them not exactly in need of healing, but more… in need of a different kind of attention.”
Gasps erupted around you. The heroine’s face turned a rather satisfying shade of white.
“I don’t know what you’re implying,” she stammered, her composure cracking.
“Oh, I’m not implying anything,” you said, voice turning sharp as a blade. “I’m flat-out saying it. You’ve been using your so-called ‘holy powers’ as a cover while having affairs with multiple married men. That’s not even the worst of it, though, is it? Let’s talk about your miracles—or should I say, your alchemy tricks.”
More gasps. Nobles all around were now staring, whispers spreading like wildfire. And as for the heroine? She looked like she was about to faint.
“You—you’re lying!” she screeched, eyes wide with desperation.
“Oh, am I?” You pulled out a letter, one of many you and Azul had collected. “Because this says otherwise. A love letter to Lord Ainsworth, a very married man, detailing your... special ‘healing sessions.’” You fluttered the letter in front of her face, then loudly cleared your throat, reading aloud, “Your touch is divine, and I felt so... blessed after our long night together. Honestly, your vocabulary could use some work. Not exactly poetic, is it?”
The heroine was trembling now, and the crowd around you was in stunned silence. But you weren’t done. Oh no. You turned to where Azul was confronting the prince. Perfect timing.
Azul was speaking smoothly, voice calm but lethal. “And speaking of deception, Your Highness, should we address your... exemplary battlefield skills? I’ve heard rumors that when the kingdom needed you most, you deserted the warfront. Ran off with a servant girl while your men perished. Am I wrong?”
The prince, who had been sneering at you from afar, suddenly looked as though he’d been slapped. “That’s preposterous!”
“Oh?” Azul’s smirk deepened. “So, you didn’t flee like a coward and abandon your post? Perhaps we should ask your former comrades. Oh wait, we can’t—they’re dead.”
Gasps turned into outright murmurs now, the room swirling with scandal. The prince, visibly sweating, attempted to regain control. “I don’t have to listen to this nonsense! Guards! Arrest these—”
You cut him off with a laugh, stepping forward. “Oh, and before you get all high and mighty, let’s not forget your little... habit of harassing women at court. Everyone’s heard about it, but no one’s had the guts to say it out loud. You have no idea how many complaints have been buried by your influence.”
The prince’s face turned purple. He looked like a fish flopping on dry land, desperate to escape. The nobles around him, previously loyal lapdogs, were now backing away, muttering to each other in disbelief.
The heroine finally broke, shrieking like a banshee. “You can’t do this to us! You’ll regret this!”
You turned to her with a smile that could only be described as gleeful. “I already do, dear. Trust me, being in the same room with you is enough regret for a lifetime.”
And with that, Azul snapped his fingers, signaling the beginning of your grand exit.
In the chaos that followed—nobles yelling, the prince and the heroine in absolute shambles—Floyd, with a cackle, grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “Time to go, Shrimpy!”
“What is it with you and throwing me over your shoulder?!” you hollered, flailing. But you were laughing, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Meanwhile, Jade was quick to hoist Azul over his shoulder, ignoring Azul’s indignant protests. “I am fully capable of walking, Jade!”
Jade chuckled. “But this is faster.”
With that, the four of you barreled out of the ballroom, tearing through the palace halls like children who’d just pulled the most epic prank of their lives. You could hear the sounds of guards scrambling, but none of them seemed to have the nerve to chase after you. After all, exposing the kingdom’s so-called saviors was no small feat.
“Where are we even going?!” you laughed, gripping onto Floyd’s jacket as he sprinted full speed, not slowing down for a second.
“Anywhere that isn’t here, duh!” Floyd cackled, clearly having the time of his life.
After a few more turns, you finally found a secluded garden, well away from the palace guards, and Floyd unceremoniously dropped you onto the ground. Jade did the same to Azul, though with a bit more care.
You took a moment to catch your breath, still riding high from the adrenaline of it all. Azul straightened his coat, still clearly annoyed by the shoulder-ride but too composed to say much about it.
“Well, that was fun,” you said, leaning back against the garden wall. “So, what now? Are we fugitives yet?”
Azul, now looking much more composed, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “There’s still the matter of my wish. You promised me one, remember?”
You blinked. “Oh, right. What do you want?”
Azul hesitated, then fixed you with a look that was surprisingly serious. “Come with me to the Coral Sea.”
You stared at him. “What, like... right now?”
Azul’s eyes flickered with something like doubt. “You don’t have to—”
“Oh, no, I’m in,” you interrupted, grinning. “Let’s go right now before we get arrested or something.”
Azul blinked, clearly not expecting you to agree so readily. “You… you’re serious?”
You shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? This place is a nightmare. You know what sounds fun? Underwater adventures. Coral Sea? Sign me up. Let’s get out of here before they send a search party.”
Floyd laughed loudly, throwing an arm around you. “I like this plan! Let’s see how Shrimpy handles the ocean!”
Jade chuckled, his smile as sharp as ever. “It seems we have an impromptu vacation ahead of us.”
Azul, still looking somewhat stunned, finally smiled—though it was a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Very well. Let’s go, then. The Coral Sea awaits.”
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The Coral Sea was nothing like you expected, but everything you needed. You’d relocated your café to this underwater haven, a place filled with bioluminescent reefs, shimmering schools of fish, and an air of quiet magic. Running a café under the sea was a wild dream, but somehow, you and Azul had made it happen. Every day felt like an adventure, with Floyd and Jade always testing your patience—and taste buds—with their questionable yet inventive cooking.
Today was no different.
You stood at the counter of your café, watching with a mix of amusement and mild horror as Floyd dumped a strange, glowing ingredient into a bubbling pot. Jade stood next to him, calmly adding delicate pinches of spices that, according to him, would “bring out the flavor.”
You raised an eyebrow. “So, what exactly are you making today? Because last time, I’m pretty sure I saw sparks coming out of the dish.”
“Don’t worry, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, giving the pot an enthusiastic stir. “This one won’t explode! Probably.”
Jade smirked, clearly enjoying your wariness. “It’s a new dish we’ve been perfecting—Sea Serpent Stew. I think you’ll find it... quite unique.”
You blinked. “Sea Serpent… what now?”
Floyd cackled. “Relax, it’s just a name! No actual sea serpents in it. Mostly.”
With a resigned sigh, you accepted the bowl they handed you and stared down at the glowing, swirling contents. It looked like something out of a mad alchemist’s lab. But hey, you’d survived worse—like being kidnapped by Floyd. This was nothing.
Bracing yourself, you took a cautious sip.
It wasn’t… terrible. Actually, it was kind of delicious. Spicy, with an oddly sweet aftertaste that lingered in a pleasant way. You blinked in surprise, then took another spoonful.
“Well, damn,” you said, looking at the two eels with newfound respect. “This is actually good. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we could add this to the menu.”
Floyd pumped a fist into the air. “Yesss! Told ya we nailed it!”
Jade chuckled, looking pleased but less outwardly excited. “I’m glad it meets your standards.”
You grinned at them both. “I mean, if people don’t mind glowing food, we’re set. Let’s call it ‘Mystic Stew’ or something. I’ll work on the branding.”
After a few more rounds of tasting, tweaking, and banter, the day finally wound down. The café’s lanterns dimmed, casting the place in a soft, cozy glow, and you could hear the gentle hum of the ocean outside. Floyd and Jade headed out to “hunt for more ingredients”—which you suspected was code for causing chaos somewhere else—leaving you alone to close up with Azul.
You locked the doors, the quiet settling in as Azul finished counting the day’s earnings. He glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Another successful day.”
“Yup. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we’re actually doing well here,” you mused, walking over to him. The quiet moments like this were becoming your favorite—just the two of you, after the bustle of the day, with nothing but the serene ocean around you.
Azul chuckled, slipping his arms around your waist as you leaned into him. “You doubted our business?”
“Never doubted the business,” you teased. “But the Coral Sea? Yeah, I wasn’t sure about moving here. But now... I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his touch warm and familiar. “I’m glad. This place... it’s different from anything I could have imagined, but with you here, it feels like home.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I never thought a stupid order for a magic rock would lead to this, but here we are. You and me, running a café under the sea. Who knew?”
Azul chuckled, pulling you closer. “That magic rock was the start of everything, wasn’t it? ”
You looked up at him, feeling your chest tighten with affection. “Yeah, funny how life works. I thought I was signing up for a revenge plot, and instead, I got... well, you.”
Azul’s gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything—the journey, the chaos, the unplanned twists—hung in the air between you, warm and comforting.
“I love you, you know that?” you said, the words slipping out with ease now, no hesitation.
Azul smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And I love you. More than I thought possible.”
You tilted your head, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now. No refunds, no returns.”
He laughed, a rare, genuine sound that made your heart swell. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
With that, you pulled him into a kiss, soft and lingering, with the ocean as your only witness. This—right here—was everything. The café, the Coral Sea, and Azul by your side. It might have started with a plot for petty revenge, but it had turned into something much deeper, much more real.
And as you stood there in his arms, the world felt right. You had found your place. Together.
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Series Masterlist ; Masterlist
Okay! Kalim and Leona are next! (Whichever I finish editing first) Who would y'all like to see after that?
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keferon · 5 months ago
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That post about transformers yearning for humans to drive their alt modes, with the context of Swerve and Blurr, gave me thoughts.
Because, yes!! If just meeting Blurr was a dream, then having Blurr drive his alt mode must be an experience beyond Swerve's wildest dreams (which isn't to say he hasn't thought about it; I imagine he would). And there would be joy in that on many levels. Just the joy of it being Blurr. But then also the joy of knowing that Blurr -- that they -- can drive fast, and Swerve can protect Blurr in a way none of his previous vehicles could.
Which got me to thinking, there's also potential for Blurr to find a great deal of joy in the experience. Because after everything, there's probably still a part of him that yearns to sit in the driver's seat of a car -- even if that seems like an impossibility at the start. But with Swerve, he could. He could sit behind the driver's seat and do as little or as much of the actual driving as he wanted. Just feel what it's like to hold onto the wheel of a car, have it turn beneath his hands (even if he's not always the one doing the turning). Feel the motion, the acceleration. And Blurr wouldn't have to worry that any momentary lapse or delay on his part could end in disaster because he'd have Swerve there with him.
And at a deeper level, for both of them, there's joy in this shared connection -- a love of driving (racing even). And now they get to share that experience together (where previously they had only ever been alone in it; there's only ever one driver actually in a race car at a time after all).
YES. AND ALSO
Swerve by himself is quite a reckless driver. He bumps into things and wrecks everything and himself constantly. And he can drive like that bc he’s sturdy. His armour is thick enough for it.
While Blurr’s driving is a work of art. He’s precise and confidently careful. I am also pretty sure that despite Swerve being an actual car…Blurr is much better driver than him haha.
So if Swerve let Blurr to drive him I imagine it would be such a crazy (in a good way) experience. Because Blurr would make him perform things he was sure he couldn’t be able to do. Making the craziest turns and tricks and moves. Without crashing
Swerve as a human watching tiktok edits of Blurr doing some crazy move: Wow this is fucking hot…..
Swerve as a car feeling the wind whooshing on his plates and gentle but confident hand on his steering wheel and recognising the move: Oh my god oh my god oh mY gOD ohMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD
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gyusimp · 10 months ago
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𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]
ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.
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transmortifried · 1 year ago
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superheroes continue to fascinate me as a genre, something about being given power beyond what the average person is capable of and choosing to use that power in service to others
but i'm running into what i'll call the "guy with laser eyes" problem in this disorganized rant
imagine you're a guy with the ability to shoot lasers out of your eyes. how do you use that power?
genre conventions say fight street-level crime, which is fucked up! vigilante crimefighting is just being a cop without the oversized paycheck or the extremely limited accountability, and your laser eyes aren't good for nonviolent intervention anyway
or you fight supervillains, that way you're at least punching in your weight class. sure, sounds good on paper but that's some real "the only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun" thinking and also you're still not a cop
so you'd say "okay, what if i use my power to address structural problems and deal with societal ills at their source?" well what the hell is a guy with laser eyes going to do to fight income inequality?
disaster relief is maybe your best bet but i don't know that you want to be saving orphans and kittens from burning buildings by blasting a big hole in them with your laser eyes
so what's a guy to do with his laser eyes?
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mariasont · 1 year ago
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spencer reid masterlist
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smut = ✧ clean (ish) = ♡ angst = ✩
newest to oldest
series: IN VERSE AND VIOLENCE
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character archetype one-shot masterlists
shy!media-liaison!reader
bimbo!receptionist!reader
translator!reader
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one shots:
♡ gentlemen prefer pajamas you are tipsy and flirty with spencer after a night out, leading to soft kisses, drunk rambling, and sleepy cuddles
✧ craving like a lungful you ask spencer a question about breath play. he gives you a lecture, a safety demonstration, and a mind-shattering orgasm. in that order.
✩ we reap what i sow you fight, you burn, you break apart, and then you pull him back in — again and again, as if love is something that can't exist without wreckage
♡ schrödinger’s relationship spencer never needed to define what this was, until you did. now, the box is open, the outcome inevitable, and he has never been so happy to lose an argument.
♡ strictly medical reasons it started as concern. a few check-ins, a handful of visits, just to make sure you were healing. but somewhere along the way, the line between duty and something deeper blurred, and spencer wasn't sure he wanted to redraw it.
♡ green means go spencer got exposed to anthrax, and you're not taking it well. instead of admitting that, you watch him eat terrible hospital jell-o and make fun of his life choices.
♡ reid the room spencer has never met a bad time to discuss aviation disasters. and before your survival instincts can stop you, you're kissing him just to make it stop
♡ dimple deductions when morgan & jj notice spencer reid acting suspiciously happy, they do what they do best — profile him. unfortunately, spencer's biggest tell is your dimples
♡ heart nebula spencer tells you every atom in your body was once part of a star, but you think he's the celestial wonder worth studying.
♡ reading between the lines spencer teaches you how to speed-read
✧ the hypothesis spencer and aaron want your help settling a debate of arousal
✩ pulse points spencer rescues you from a case and has a hard time grappling with his feelings
♡ cinnamon sticks you and spencer are in a secret relationship and the team is this close to figuring you out because spencer just knows too much about you
✩ worth it you help early seasons spencer through a relapse
✩ messy spencer is determined to get you to let him in as your depression takes a bigger hold than you imagined
♡ schoolboy-esque spencer and hotch spend the day competing for your attention
♡ thump, thump in which you and spencer get stuck in a cramped closet together
♡ fangirl you're the newest member and you have a slightest obsession with dr. reid and his works.
✧♡ looking after you you have called off sick for a few days now and spencer has been "looking after you". spencer gets caught red handed when morgan and garcia drop by
✩ ♡ be so stupid you make a mistake while on a case nearly getting spencer killed, morgan has some choice words and spencer is ready to beat his ass over it
✩ ♡ when the swallows come again spencer blames you for maeve’s death…or does he
♡ i want it in ink spencer finds your secret tattoo… with his initials
♡ arachnophobia you compare spencer to a spider in an attempt to flirt
♡ brooding goth!bimbo!reader wants to sketch spencer but he won't stand still!
♡ ✩ beyond the grave spencer fakes his death and comes back into your life like nothing happened
♡ sweater in which you struggle with your body and spencer helps you
✩chloe or sam or sophia or marcus in which spencer choses the drugs over you
♡ sundress season spencer helps you out with some research and gets more than he bargained for
♡ climb you like a tree you tell spencer you’re going to climb him like a tree… not meaning it the way it comes out
✧ hands, hands and hands spencer and you compare hands
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azrielandhisshadows · 10 months ago
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winter's kiss
pairing: azriel x reader
word count: 1.2k (I tried to make this shorter, but I'm a yapper)
warning: over-protective, older brother, Kallias
summary: the reader has lived a sheltered life under her brother, Kallias, the high lord of the Winter Court. when the reader is given the opportunity to go to the Dawn Court for the High Lords meeting, she is ecstatic. While there, she meets the most of the Inner Circle and one of those members will change her life
part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
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Light reflecting from the snow outside blinded you as you stepped out onto your balcony. Despite living in the Winter Court your entire life, you have never gotten used to the views of the snow-capped mountains and the city sprawling beneath you. You only wish you could see what was beyond the snow-capped mountains. 
Your older brother, Kallias, had always been determined to keep you safe from the dangers lurking outside your home. During Amarantha’s reign, he kept you hidden, and all you knew of the terrors she inflicted on your people were whispers. Even after her defeat and the stories of a human who had freed Prythian, your life remained firmly within the confines of the Winter Court.
You sat in the corner of your room, reading one of the many books that have allowed you to imagine the world outside of the Winter Court. Stories of fierce warriors that protected their people from outside danger, much like the threat of Hybern that loomed on the periphery. Your heart sank at the thought of another threat plaguing your home. Another threat that you were powerless to stop.
A knock sounded at your door and Kallias and Viviane entered your room. Viviane directed her attention to the book you held in your hands and gave you a sympathetic smile, knowing how you desired to escape your sheltered life. Your brother cleared his throat and looked uneasy as he said, “Y/N, we have decided to bring you with us to the Dawn Court for the High Lords’ meeting.”
Your breath left you at your brother’s announcement. Viviane’s gaze met your own with a satisfied smile, knowing that she had persuaded her mate to allow you to attend this meeting with them. Shooting up from your chair, you wrapped your brother in your arms, holding him tightly, “Kallias, thank you. This is fantastic! What do I need to do during the meeting?”
Kallias’s stoic demeanor softened as he returned the hug, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Easy there. You don’t need to do anything specific. You’re my best-kept secret, and I want the High Lords to see that I trust them—and that I trust you. Just be yourself.”
You pulled away slightly, a playful smirk on your lips. “Best-kept secret? That’s better than being your biggest embarrassment, I suppose.”
Kallias rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, very funny. Just try not to make me regret this decision. We don’t need a repeat of that time you tried to help me with diplomatic correspondence and nearly signed us up for a snowball fight in the city.”
Laughter erupted from you and Viviane and you nudged Kallias’s shoulder, “I promise there will be no accidental diplomatic disasters, but I might bring up how the High Lord of the Winter Court lost said snowball fight.” Kallias chuckled, shaking his head. “I would expect nothing less from you, but you need to get packed. We leave in the morning.” Kallias gave you a quick hug and left to oversee final preparations.
Viviane lingered in your room, her warm presence a stark contrast to the cool air outside. “Let’s get you packed. We have a lot to prepare for and I want you to be able to enjoy everything the Dawn Court has to offer.”
Night passed into morning and you were unable to sleep due to the excitement of your awaiting departure for the Dawn Court. A golden hue broke through your curtains signaling that it was time to leave. You met Kallias and Viviane in Kallias’s office as they were going over final details. Viviane looked at you expectantly. “How are you feeling, Y/N? 
You look between the mated couple, your heart beating out of your chest. “I’m as ready as I can be. Let’s go!” Kallias chuckled at your enthusiasm. Receiving a nod from Viviane, he raised his hand and enveloped the three of you in a sparkling blue. You felt the frigid air of the Winter Court begin to dissipate and was replaced by a warm breeze unlike anything you had felt before. Blossoming flowers and chatter from the halls reached your ears as you took in the sunlit room you were winnowed into. A squeal pierced your ears and you looked over in time to see a tall blonde embrace Viviane in a hug. 
“Mor, how I’ve missed you.” Viviane said to the female, returning her hug with equal excitement. Viviane and Mor separated from their embrace, both wearing wide smiles from the reunion. “Viviane, you look fantastic! I’m so excited that you’re here,” Mor’s gaze glanced to your wide-eyed frame, still taking in your new surroundings, “Who is this?”
You looked at the beautiful female and reached out a hand, “I’m Y/N. I’m Kallias’s sister.” Mor looked in between the three of you with shock lining her features. 
“Kallias, I did not know you had a sister.” 
Kallias’s cold features looked at the bright-eyed female and looked at you protectively, “No one outside of the Winter Court does.” Mor looked uncomfortable as Kallias placed a protective hand on your shoulder. You peered behind Mor’s to the group she came with and you saw three striking males with large, membranous wings behind them, their tan skin and dark hair making them stand out. One of the females looked at you, confusion lining her features, trying to figure out who you were.
Mor’s gaze followed yours, and she stepped aside to reveal the group behind her. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the Inner Circle.”
The first to step forward was a male with an aura of effortless confidence. His violet eyes pierced into you as he extended a hand with a grin. “I’m Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Your jaw dropped as you hesitantly accepted his hand. Rhysand, the most powerful high lord in Prythian and the one who was rumored to have killed the Winter Court children.
Seeing your discomfort, Rhysand’s smile faltered slightly. “I assure you, I didn’t harm those children. I understand if you’re wary, but I hope we can start fresh.”
His words carried a sincerity that eased your anxiety a bit. As he introduced you to the rest of his court, Cassian’s boisterous welcome and Feyre’s warm smile helped to soften the tension. Yet, it was Azriel who captured your focus completely. As his shadowy tendrils brushed against your arm, an unexpected wave of nausea surged through you. Your vision blurred momentarily as an intense, disorienting sensation swept over you.
Kallias and Viviane were instantly by your side, their concern palpable. “Y/N, are you alright?” Viviane’s voice was filled with worry, her hand gently resting on your back.
You struggled to steady yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from Azriel. His face was a mask of shock, his usually composed demeanor fractured. When he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath, it was as if the room itself fell silent, drawing all attention to his words. “Mate. You’re my mate.”
The weight of his revelation settled over you like a tangible force. The golden thread of connection that linked you both was almost visible, a shimmering bond that pulled at your very essence.
Mate.
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