#A Flower by any Name || Aria

[retroaria]

｡･:*˚:✧boyfriend bachira･:*˚:✧｡

summary: general dating headcanons for the best boy of all the boys

warnings: umm if you don’t read this and like it I’ll cry, mentions of biting (cuteness aggression), use of pet names

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🤍 - aria

pre!boyfriend bachira who literally tells you straight up that he likes you but does it in such an unserious way that you don’t recognize his true feelings. he’s always touchy and affectionate and often acts that way with his other friends as well so you have a hard time differentiating if he’s being platonic or not.

pre!boyfriend bachira who notices that you DONT notice and gets really upset about it. feels like there’s nothing he can do to get you to see all the love he has literally oozing out of his veins for you.

pre!boyfriend bachira who has already made a great impression on your family and friends. he’s just such a little bundle of joy that everyone loves having around. you’ve also met his mom and she’s so happy meguru has someone who genuinely loves and cares for him.

pre!boyfriend bachira who takes pictures and notes of every thing he sees that reminds him of you. sometimes he shares them with you but often times he’s afraid you’ll think the sheer amount of time he spends thinking about you is weird :(

pre!boyfriend bachira who CANNOT help but engulf you in the most lung suppressing, air tight, vacuum sealed hug of all time every time he sees you. feels this is the closest he can get to you as just friends. (really he wants to plant a thousand kisses on your face and swing you around like a teddy bear in his arms)

pre!boyfriend bachira who doesn’t stop talking about you to all his friends (EVERYONE but you knows that he has feelings for you). He’s spent so much time observing everything about you that he feels like there’s endless things he could mention and if he says one thing but leaves out another they won’t fully understand just how amazing you are.

pre!boyfriend bachira who writes you a love letter with a full declaration of his feelings and a cute little drawing of the two of you playing football together. you go find him immediately after reading it and he’s like “well FINALLY I’ve been trying to tell you for forever silly :D” (you better love this boy or I will hunt you down)

boyfriend bachira who is literally the kisses bandit. will kiss you any chance he gets. passing by you in the hall for literally two seconds? boom! kiss on the cheek. you are never safe (not that you’d ever NOT want this boys sweet little pecks at every chance you can get them). His favorite place to kiss you is everywhere and anywhere he can get to.

boyfriend bachira who finally gets to share all the things that make him think of you. expect to receive texts and voicemails from this boy all day. “I walked past this bakery that smelled just like you!” “This flower I saw is the same color as your eyes!” “I saw the cutest bunny at the park today and it even sat with me for a while, I named it after you! call me back! love you!”

boyfriend bachira who has already curated a list of places he wants to take you. Ranging from his favorite stores and arcades to his favorite parks, under bridges, picnic spots, hidden gems. He’s always out and about finding fun places and his first thought is always how he can’t wait to take you there.

boyfriend bachira who calls you the silliest pet names. pumpkin, bunny, squish, baby face, cutie pie, literally anything that sounds adorable might as well be your middle name in his book.

boyfriend bachira who loves to share everything with you. He’s always giving you one of his earbuds when you walk/sit together, gesturing the straw of his drink over to you, splitting half his food order with you (as long as he gets half of yours :)) I imagine you guys sharing manga, dvds, vinyls, books, anything that’s his that he also wants to be yours. LOVES seeing you in his clothes. His jersey???? Omg he would die.

boyfriend bachira who wants to tell you everything about himself and his life and know everything about you. he’d never push you to speak about something that might be hard to talk about but he wants you to know that you can always be comfortable sharing anything with him. He truly considers you an extension of himself, his other half if you will.

boyfriend bachira who suffers from a terrible case of cuteness aggression!!! he definitely strikes me as a biter/nibbler. he never wants to hurt you and would only do it if you were ok with it but just little love bites on your hands, neck, cheeks, ears, lips anywhere. when you aren’t around and he thinks about how cute you are he has to scream in a pillow or kick his soccer ball really hard lol. Really wants to just squish you so hard you evaporate and become a part of him forever.

boyfriend bachira who if asked what he wants the most in this world would simply say he wants to live a happy vibrant life with you <3

Bachira is probably the loml. I think I would give him the world. I’m finally caught up with the blue lock manga as of last night and I’m literally itching so bad for more I need that new chapter ASAP gotta see goatsagi score that goal 😭

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

FIFTEEN – most touching story

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: sometimes I like to make myself cry when writing these chapters💀 so in other words the angst in this chapter is just so 🤌🏻

“are you sure you’re okay?” sunghoon asks as he worriedly watches you hold your stomach.

“hoon, i’m fine. the doctor said that it will hurt a couple of days and then i’ll be fine. i just need to avoid seeing aria and jake so it wouldn’t worsen.” you had explained. jay and sunghoon didn’t look convinced.

“yeah, but-”

“please, boys? for me? i’ll be fine, i promise you.” you had mustered up the best puppy eyes you could give them. you knew it would crumble them instantly because they loved you, platonically of course.

jay rolls his eyes, “fine. get in the car. we aren’t mentioning any of this to your mom or dad. just so they wouldn’t get worried for you.”

“yeah, perfect. i think my dad would actually storm over to jake and tell him to marry me instantly.” you joked.

“mr.kim would definitely do that.” sunghoon says.

the drive took about 20 minutes. you were back in your small little hometown. you loved the healing aspect of this place and it was near a beach so that was a plus. your parents obviously heard the commotion outside of the house when you opened jay’s trunk to grab your small luggage.

“sweetheart, why are you back?” your mom says as she rushes to hug you.

“just missed you and dad.” your dad lets out a hearty laugh.

“you brought my two favourite boys along too?”

“they wanted to tag along.” you point out.

your dad pulls the two boys into a huge hug. your dad loved your guy friends, including taesan. he has always wanted a bunch of sons so this was just a blessing in disguise for him to have them.

“where is jake?”

“with his girlfriend probably. we didn’t want to disturb the love birds.” jay explains.

“that’s a shame. i won’t lie but his girlfriend?” your dad shakes his head and sighs. “i don’t think that’s his soulmate.”

you froze and so did jay and sunghoon. your dad knew about soulmates? does that mean your mom is his?

“dad, did you have a soulmate before?” what a stupid question to ask him, (name).

“of course! let’s get in the house before i tell the whole story to you kids.” your dad says.

after settling down and placing your luggage into your room, everyone gathers in the living room. jay and sunghoon chose to sit on the ground while your mom and you were settling on the couch.

“first things first, yes. your mom is my soulmate. however, we didn’t officially get together until we were 25. i was a charismatic man, a ladies man you could say.” your mom rolls her eyes at his words.

“a playboy is what you were, myungdae.” she says. your dad denies it before continuing with his story.

“so, i was…getting around a lot. i had many different girlfriends up till i was 24. since we get our soulmate marks at 18, i didn’t care about it. i just liked partying and being a playful guy. however, something in me was itching to find my soulmate but yet again i ignored it. there is a consequence to not get with your soulmate, i’m sure all of you have heard of it. at that time, i had a very close best friend. she was someone that i had always relied on.”

you had gasped. “you and mom were best friends before dating?”

“yup, we were best friends and without knowing. i was unintentionally hurting your mom. she started coughing up blood which then turned into coughing up flowers and blood. it wasn’t easy for her. she tried her best to hide the fact that she was my soulmate and i was hers for the sake of my happiness. then, one day, i heard that she went to the hospital. i ran and ran just to see her. she was about to get the surgery done and i didn’t want that for her. i held her hand and then i realised that our soulmate marks were glowing. it surprised me because all this time, this beautiful woman who was always next to me was my soulmate? i felt my whole world collapse. i begged and begged for her not to get the surgery done. she listened and as i sat in the ward with her, i held her hand. i told her that i promised to love her and take care of her until we grew old. i broke it off with my girlfriend at the time and the rest is history.”

jay sniffled. “that was the most touching story ever.” your dad pat his back.

“kiddo, you will get to experience that when you find your soulmate. just don’t go searching for other women, your soulmate can sense it and it will not be good for them.” your dad warns.

you could feel your stomach feel unease. to which your mom notices and just discreetly makes up and excuse to pull you out to talk to you alone. she brings you to your bedroom and lightly closes the door.

“do you want to tell me about it, sweetheart?” you felt the tears come crashing down and your mom gives you a big hug whilst rubbing your back. “it’s okay, darling. you’re fine, i’m here for you. just let it out.”

your mom was the most gentle woman ever, the best mom to have ever existed and you loved her to bits. which is why you always felt spoiled by her and your dad. they always let you cry on their shoulders whenever you need to. crying to your mom usually doesn’t take so long so you had calmed down a little after 15 minutes.

“are you facing the same situation as me, sweetheart?” she asks. you could only nod your head and shamelessly looked down at your hands. the drips of tears falling right onto your skin. “did you-” she didn’t want to say it, she knew what it was and you knew what she was going to say.

“yes. it started yesterday. i coughed up blood.” your mom pulls your closer once again, hugging you tightly. her heart ached for you. it wasn’t a good sign and she obviously knew that there was no other way.

“we’ll get through this. we’ll get you treated and get some medicine so you will feel less pain over time before…”

“i don’t want to die. if this gets worse, i’ll get the surgery.”

“if you must, then you know what will happen. right, darling?” she cradles your face into the palm of her hand. “i don’t want my daughter to be dead but i also want my daughter to have emotions. let’s just have hope that jake will come to his senses.”

“no, he will never love me.”

tears were stinging at her eyes, it was like she was watching herself when she was younger. the painful memories were only playing in her head but she had to stay strong for you. she had to give you hope in a way. with glossy eyes, “i’m sure he will. only time will tell.”

that night, neither jay or sunghoon wanted to leave you alone. they weren’t dumb. they knew that your parents’ love story and your situation were the similar. they were certain that you would have doubts and you’d be even more stressed out. hence, they decided to stay close to you. and yes, that meant that they were both sleeping in your bed while you were sleeping there too. not the first time.

you were tossing and turning. the world clearly didn't want you to sleep tonight. which is why you had sat up and climbed out of bed and walked towards the mini balcony you had in your room. you had tugged the cardigan close around your body, it was decently cold at night. the sea breeze blowing in your hair.

you could hear footsteps behind you but it doesn't scare you since you knew it was one of the boys. you felt a small peck on your shoulder.

"couldn't sleep?" sunghoon's deep voice resonates beside you. you hummed. "want something warm to drink before you get to sleep?"

"nah, I'm fine."

"what were you and your mom talking about just now?"

you sighed. "she knows."

"oh." was all he could say.

"she had pity her eyes. never in my whole life would i see my own mom looking at me with such pity."

"I'm sure she understands you. she's been in your position before and she knows how heart breaking it is."

"hoon?" he hums. "I wish you were my soulmate." you felt him ruffle your hair and squeeze your hand to comfort you.

"me too. the both of us would've been the best couple in college." he jokes. you smiled a little.

"yeah, we would've." he pulls you closer and pecks the side of your head.

"do you want to stay up or go to sleep?" he asks.

"let's stay up for a bit, then we can go to sleep." he nods at your words.

and so that's what you did. when you wake up the next morning, jay wasn't there anymore, but sunghoon was still there. he gently opens his eyes to adjust to the lighting of the room.

"morning, beautiful."

"morning, hoon."

he pecks your lips. well, that was until jay threw a pillow at the both of you. "wake up! mom made us breakfast. a huge feast."

"stop calling my mom as yours." you threw the pillow back at jay and he ducks, successfully avoiding it.

"no." he sticks out his tongue. sunghoon grabs the plushie on your bed and throws it once again towards jay. this time, it hits the bullseye. right on his face. "oh fuck." jay stumbles back a little and gives sunghoon the middle finger.

sunghoon smirks and shoots a middle finger at jay. you could only roll your eyes at the both of them. "okay, get out idiots."

"who are you calling idiots? you've had sex with the bo-" you shoved sunghoon out and shut the door in their faces.

you loved your two best friends to bits but sometimes, they were a little too much for you. you had taken a quick shower and also put on your swimsuit since you were planning to just enjoy your time at the beach later.

you felt your phone buzz a couple of times but you chose to ignore it because you were on a small break. in the end, you, jay and sunghoon went to the beach. jay throws you over his shoulder and carries you over. it was fun not having to worry about your assignments and life for a bit.

you had jay and sunghoon by your side to make you feel better and that was all it mattered.

and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

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[pycth]

REDACTED OC ‼️

Y’ALL MET MICHAEL, NOW ITS TIME TO MEET MY OTHER BEST BOY, MY BELOVED , MY WET NAPKIN

I’ve been wanting to make a d(a)emon character for so long, but couldn’t decide between which branch—the recent Redacted 101 video though with the 5 new types 👀👀 ya got me

A few headcanons~

- Hydrus is the 3rd demon to ever be created by the Sovereigns, first-formed of Misery.

- Originally known as the Hydra constellation, “Hydrus” was self-created in the wake of his change after the cacophony. He no longer goes by the former. (Due to this change, some of the newer d(a)emons now believed the original Hydra may have died at some point during the war or even simply disappeared.)

- Most of his time is spent hidden away in Aria. Even The Chorushas a hard time getting a hold of him.

- General anxiety. Doesn’t really like interacting with humans or even other d(a)emons in some cases. He’s blunt and can very harsh when pushed.

- The only reason he tends to stay on Elegy for longer than he prefers after feeding is to go swimming.

- He likes the ocean. Or any body of water he can manage to get in. He also LOVES the rain.

- His eyes are sensitive to natural lighting, but doesn’t see (lol) the effort in trying to help it.

- His white spots are bioluminescent!

- Hydrus likes doing origami. He’s pacticed and mastered a few complex pieces—but his favorites are flowers because they remind him of a certain Soft Sadism Demon by the name of Cebalrai 👀 ( @sincerelywhistler ‘s oc<3)

- He has a odd fascination with the DMV.

- Isn’t very fond of most clothes. He prefers loose fitting or none at all.

Voice Claim bonus :>

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Garden of Wishes: A Retelling of “The Twelve Dancing Princesses”

We go to the same garden every day, but you never see me. Why should you? You are the Princess Sonatina, youngest daughter of the greatest king on five continents, while I am only a gardener's assistant, with not even a surname of my own, save one that was given to me half as a taunt for my daydreaming ways. If you were ever to ask, I would tell you I answer to Michael Stargazer—but you never will think to ask, and I will never presume to speak.

Instead, I work silently in the gardens, while you wander past with your sisters—eleven of them, all unsurpassed in beauty of face and form and voice—laughing and chatting and singing snatches of songs. You are all more beautiful and vibrant than any of the flowers I tend, and I feel more alive just being near you.

Then the day comes when your morning songs are silent. You drag weary feet through the gardens, look blankly at the beauties of the world, lounge wearily along the edges of fountains and atop retaining walls. The rumor comes that every night, you are all wearing through your shoes.

Were I a prince, I would think no quest too perilous to save you from such sickness. I would climb a million trees in search of golden apples, cross storm-filled oceans in search of the Water of Life, work a dozen years at impossible tasks to find the key to ending your curse.

But I'm only a gardener, and nobody's son, so it falls to those with name and fortune to try their hands at saving you. The king has vowed that the man who finds the secret of where you go at night will win your hand in marriage, and there are many who are willing and worthy to try.

They are wonderful men—strong and handsome, noble and brave, with royal titles, vast holdings, great fortunes. They have skills and talents that a simple gardener could never match. Any one of them would make a fine husband for a princess. Yet all of them, to a man, disappear within a day of taking up their quest.

The rumors turn darker then, casting you not as victims but villains, luring men to their deaths with some dark magic of your own. Those who say such things did not see you in the gardens, or they would know that not one of you is capable of the crimes they accuse you of. Unfortunately, no one will ask a garden lad's thoughts, and I cannot speak unbidden unless I have proof.

So I go to the gardens and find two tiny rose trees. The head gardener tried to tear them out, in my first days at the palace, and I convinced him to let them live. I have watered them, fed them, saved them from disease and decay, told them stories of the princesses they serve. You have never seen them, I'm sure—you have never seen me—but though they are small, they are fine little plants, with dark, glossy green leaves, and little buds that seem always to be waiting for just the right time to bloom. An old woman told me once that they were wishing trees, planted in the earliest days of the kingdom's existence, and my service to them meant they would give me anything I desired.

For myself, I want nothing—wishes too easily become the ruin of those who have them granted—but for you, I would dare all. I ask my two rose trees to make me not only unseen, but unseeable, able to follow invisibly wherever you go.

The rose tree sprouts a single bloom, its petals so white and delicate they are almost transparent. When I pluck it from the bush, I disappear from sight. I place it in my buttonhole and move about the gardens, unseen by all who cross my path, even in the brightest sun.

That night, I follow you into the bedroom you share with your sisters, and I hide beneath the largest bed while the room above fills with the sounds of rustling dresses, clinking jewels, and girlish whispers. At last, your eldest sister Aria declares you dressed to perfection and calls for silence.

I creep out from under the bed and find you and your sisters dressed in ballroom finery—silks and satins and twelve pairs of perfectly-mended dancing shoes. I take my place just behind you, and find you more beautiful than ever in this moonlit room.

Aria pulls aside a tapestry, and the blank stone wall suddenly becomes an wooden door that Aria opens to reveal a torchlit staircase. You all rush through in single file. I keep close at your heels, afraid that I'll be left behind unseen.

I rush past where Aria holds the door, afraid she'll follow too close and crash into my unseen form. In doing so, I trod too near your skirt. The fabric tears beneath my foot as you take your first steps down the stairs.

You shriek and grab hold of Lyra, standing just before you on the stairs. "Someone stood on my skirt!" you scream.

I hold myself flat against the damp stone wall, heart pounding so fast that I'm certain you hear me.

Aria breezes down the staircase, rolling her eyes at her foolish juniors. "Don't be silly, Tina," Aria says. "I was nowhere near you on the stairs."

You protest that you felt someone on your skirt, but your cries for belief are drowned out by eleven dissenting voices, and your sisters continue down the staircase. You go only reluctantly, looking back at me—right through me—a thousand times as you go forth. Were it not for the weight of my mission, I would cast off the rose in the hope of a single moment when our eyes could truly meet.

After what seems like a million stairs, we emerge into an open clearing that would look like the outdoors if there was any sight of sky above. Trees tower over us with drops of silver on their branches, like rain upon the leaves. Further down the path is a gold-spattered orchard, each precious drop catching the soft white light that comes from I know not where. Even further beyond is a forest full of diamonds, every stone flashing fiery rainbows.

The forests are strange, but also strangely unsurprising—as though they've always been here, but simply unseen. Your sisters whisper of the night that this place was wished into existence—a place where they might revel in pure beauty and joy, away from the weighty expectations of the watchful world.

But the forest, it seems, is only a prelude—the true marvel is far ahead. We emerge onto the shores of a shimmering lake—so vast, so deep, and so darkly blue that I can see neither the bottom nor the opposite shore. On an island in its center stands a castle so magnificent that it makes your father's palace seem like a paper toy. Its white, sculpted spires glitter with gems in a thousand colors, every brick spangled with precious stones. Its windows hold wonders caught in flawless stained glass. Music sweeter than any I've ever heard pours out its open doors. Light from within forms a shining path across the lake, upon which float twelve sleek obsidian-colored boats.

Each boat has a boatman who rows swiftly toward the shore, and as they approach, I find that I know all the faces. Every one of these men is a prince who failed at finding your secret—or rather, they found it, and did not return. They are dressed in silks and velvets unlike any I've seen in the outer world, too rich for comprehension. As they slide up to the shore and each offer a place to one of you girls, they wear smiles that shine as bright as your own—but there is also something empty in their eyes.

You, as the youngest, take your place in the very last boat of all, piloted by a king's younger son whose sires have ruled half a continent for centuries. He smiles and bows as he takes you by the hand. The way your eyes light up make me wonder if I've seen what you look like in love.

The prince rows with arms strengthened by a warrior's skill—I doubt he's ever held a shovel in his life—but the other boats still outpace us by far.

"Why are you so slow tonight?" you ask him, half teasing, but with a trace of true annoyance.

"The boat is heavy," he says, "and I know not why."

You glance backward, toward where I sit in the stern, and again, I half-wish you could see me. But I let out a sigh of relief when you turn your eyes back toward the castle and give no further thought to unknowable truths.

We disembark on a dock just beneath the castle entrance, and in moments we are inside the palace of enchantment. This is a ballroom beyond what I could imagine—floors of marble streaked with gold and silver, towering windows displaying fantastical birds and beasts, spidery silver chandeliers holding thousands of brightly-lit candles, and at the far end of the room, tables tottering beneath food enough to half a nation.

But this splendor is nothing compared to the beauty of the music. It is like a living thing—vibrant, rapturous, all-consuming, pulling all into it like a roaring, flowing river. The moment one steps through the door, there is nothing one can do but dance. Your prince pulls you into his arms, and your sisters' princes do the same, and soon you are swirling through that wondrous room, beauty and motion and life all brought to their fullness and put into perfect order. All along the edges of that room are other faces—other princes who've failed at your father's quest—and they all take their turn in the dance.

If I thought you alive in the gardens, you are a thousand times more vibrant now, laughing and dancing so you glow with pure joy. These princes are your perfect partners, matching you with every step, reflecting the glow that you bring to the room. If I ever thought that I could take a place beside them, maybe win your father's wager and claim a princess for my bride, that spark is snuffed by the brightness of your blaze. You are ethereal, almost angelic, and could never be happy with one whose hands are stained from working with the common, solid Earth.

While the princes take their turns, you and your sisters dance without ceasing, and I no longer wonder how you could wear through your shoes in a single night. Those shoes are little more than tatters by the time the last note of the last dance plays, and the twelve of you trudge toward the boats to reach bed. Your princes are silent as they row the boats to the forested shore, and you, Sonatina, do not say a word about his slowness.

When you reach the banks, your prince bids you farewell, then all twelve of them row back to the palace, choosing to stay in the splendor rather than return to the pressures of their ordinary lives. After what I have seen, I cannot blame them for their choice.

But you and your sisters choose to return to your father. You trudge through the diamond, then gold, then silver-spangled forests, and as your sisters file one-by-one up the staircase, I realize that none of this fantastic tale will have a ring of truth unless I have something to bring as proof. I reach toward the nearest tree and snap off a slender silver branch. It disappears from sight as soon as I touch it to my clothes, but the sound of its breaking rings through that silent wood like a gunshot.

You jump at the sound and are suddenly wide, wide awake.

"What was that?" you ask your sister.

Aria rolls her eyes. "Only an owl," she says. "You know it roosts in the castle at night."

The explanation does not please you, I can tell, but having no other, you fall silent and leave the silver woods behind.

When you are all safely asleep in bed, I slip unseen through the door and make my way invisibly to my small cot in the servants' quarters. When I lay on my bunk, I take off the rose, and my face reappears in the reflection off the washing bowl. I look as I did before I left, though infinitely wearier, and perhaps—though it might only be fancy—I carry something in my eyes of the enchantment of the night.

In my hands sits the branch I broke, its leaves as green, its silver dewdrops as solid, as they were in that fantastical land. I imagine myself taking it to the king at dawn, having triumphed where the sons of kings and emperors have failed.

Then I imagine the you and your sisters standing by. In a horrible flash, the daydream shatters, and I see myself for what I am—a sneak and a spook, who crept uninvited into a strange woman's room to steal evidence that would bar her from the place she loves most in the world. If I have a role in this tale, it is as the villain, not the hero. I have triumphed in discovering the secret, but if I have any love in my heart for you, I cannot think of speaking.

After a short hour's sleep, I awake with the dawn, but I do not go to the king with what I've found. Instead, I go to the head gardener and get myself assigned the task of bringing the twelve princesses their morning bouquets. I gather careful handfuls of daisies and larkspur and bind them together with handfuls of greenery. I hand them to your sisters one by one as they come bleary-eyed to your bedroom door. When you come to me, last of all, I make sure that your bouquet contains a single silver-spangled branch.

Then, at last, you see me.

#

Golden sunlight streams down upon a freshly-turned flower bed. I am soaked with sweat and crusted with dirt as I shovel mulch around newly-planted seedlings. I can imagine no scene less like the moonlit enchantment of your jeweled forests and wondrous dances. Even you, when you come into the garden, are nothing like you were last night. Your golden brown hair is unruly, your dress is hastily done-up, and instead of floating with ethereal grace, you storm toward me like an angry warrior goddess.

Only the branch, silver-spangled, is the same as it was last night, when you brandish it beneath my nose.

"Garden boy, where did this branch come from?" you demand.

Your eyes blaze and your golden curls flash in the sun. I could cast myself at your feet in devotion.

I keep my countenance blank and my eyes downcast—the dutiful, lowly servant. "Your highness knows better than I," I reply.

"You have followed us!" you hiss.

I raise my head to meet your gaze. It is a wonder I am not struck dead by your fury. "Yes, your highness."

"How? I saw no one."

"I hid myself."

"It is impossible. I don't believe it."

"Believe as you like," I say. "You will still hold the branch."

You scramble to grasp something at your belt, and you throw a sack full of gold at my feet. "Keep your silence, and you will have this and more besides."

I stare at the bag of gold—more than I could earn with a year's labor—and my heart sinks like a stone. This is what I am to you. Not a man of honor, whose heart and reason can be trusted, but a common blackmailer whose silence can be purchased for a price.

"I will not be bought," I say, and when your face goes white, I add gently, "You have nothing to fear from me."

It is only after dark that it strikes me I may have something to fear from you. I have vowed my silence, but you have said nothing about yours. The secret encompasses your sisters and nearly two dozen princes. What would they be willing to do to ensure my silence?

Though the thought shames me, I cannot vanquish the fear. I must know more about you royals and your hidden world—and I long to spend just one more night in that palace of enchantment. I take the pale rose from its cup on my washstand, place it in my buttonhole, and make my way invisibly to your room.

You and your sisters are already dressed for the evening when I make my way among you. You are pale, and quieter than you were last evening, but none of your sisters remark upon it. I follow you down the staircase, through the forest, and to another wondrous dance. I can tell you are watching for me, but none of your sisters join in the search. They and all the princes laugh and dance as usual. At midnight, you dine upon a feast of impossible delicacies, and though the conversation is steady and quick-witted, none of you makes the least mention of me or the secret I know.

As dawn nears, I take my place in the rear of the boat that you ride in with your prince. Tonight, it is he who comments on the unexpected weight of the boat he steers.

My heart stops. Now you will tell him of my spying, and since there are few places to hide in a small boat, like as not I will be pitched headlong into that bottomless lake.

Your answer lifts my heart like the arrival of the long-awaited dawn. You take up a second oar and say to your prince, "It feels light to me."

The wonder of your defense of me makes me love you more than ever. I all but float behind you as you make your way through the jeweled forests.

In the golden orchards, I stumble and snap off a branch. I hide it against my invisible clothes, just a moment before your sister Melody looks toward where I stand.

"What was that sound?" she asks in fright.

"Only an owl," you answer quickly.

Though you do not know it, you meet my eyes. I bow my head in thanks.

The next morning, the golden-spattered branch I place in your bouquet is a gift of thanks—and an expression of trust.

#

When you storm toward me in the gardens the next morning, the golden branch quivers in your iron grip.

"What is it you want?" you ask. "You won't take gold. Do you plan to win yourself a princess, garden boy?"

"I do not plan to take a wife," I say. "When I wed, it must be to a woman whose love is freely given."

"Then why did you follow us?"

"I had to know if I could trust you. I now know that I can." I pluck an ordinary blossom from a nearby rose bush. I focus on its petals so I do not have to take the daring step of meeting your gaze while I ask my more-daring question. "Why did you shield me? You could have betrayed me to your princes or your sisters a thousand times."

"This is between you and me alone. I saw no need to frighten them."

I nod, understanding, even as I fight a strange sense of disappointment. It is love for your sisters, not care for me, that leads you to keep my secret.

"Do you see need now?" I ask.

You examine me, and you look at the golden branch, and I can tell you are thinking of the events of the last two nights. "You do not merely hide yourself," you say. "You make yourself invisible. How?"

I could no more lie to you than tear out my own heart. "I made a wish, and it was granted me."

"By whom?"

"Rather, by what. Your garden holds a wishing tree."

You seize my wrist. “Show it to me.”

I stand firm. "Tell me, Princess Sonatina, if you found such a tree, would you suffer to let it live?"

"I should tear it out by the roots," you say, and I know it is true that you would do anything you thought necessary to guard your secret.

"Then although it pains me to disappoint you, I must refuse your request. The trees serve me because I serve them. I cannot repay their gifts by bringing about their destruction."

Your eyes flash. "You refuse your princess?"

I bow my head in apology. "Because it is my duty as a gardener to the king."

You release my wrist and pull away. You pace in frustration—back and forth, back and forth, your golden-brown curls wilder than ever. "There is nothing to prevent my finding it?"

"It is not concealed," I say.

"If it is fair for you to follow me to find our secret, it is only right that I can follow you to find yours."

"It is not my place to say otherwise."

You come to the garden every day after that—sometimes openly, sometimes skulking behind bushes or trees. Some days, I am sure, you watch from places I cannot see. But I do nothing save my ordinary gardening tasks, and I do not try to follow you at night. If I were the sort of man to make wishes for my own benefit, this would be the perfect way to make me use that gift against you. I love you more than ever because this does not occur to you—either you are too pure-hearted to suspect such villainy, or too trusting to imagine it in me.

Eventually, your constant watch breaks down the barriers between us, and you begin to speak to me. You ask me the names of the flowers I tend, and I tell you of the lilies that bloom by day and by night. The next day, you ask me about the blue flowers in your bouquet, and I tell you of the morning glories that make a gorgeous arch over the path you stand upon. In the days that follow, you pepper me with questions, wanting to know the names of every flower and bush and weed that grows in your father's gardens. And then, at last, one day, the name you ask to know is my own.

"I am called Michael Stargazer," I say, as I hand you a white bloom like a five-pointed star.

"Is it not your true name?"

"The first was written on a slip of paper in the basket where I was found upon a church's doorstep. The second was given to me for daydreaming too much."

You sit upon the edge of a fountain and stroke the petals of the flower. "It suits you," you say. "Michael the guardian."

"And the Stargazer who spends too much time dreaming of what is unreachable?" I ask, feeling the rebuke I deserve.

"No," you say—firmly, kindly. "The one who watches. So he can know what is true. And know what to do with his knowledge."

"You trust that I judge rightly?" I ask.

"I trust you," is all you say.

After that, you are with me in the gardens—not merely watching, but being, doing, helping. You wish to help the flowers grow, so I teach you of spades and trowels, watering cans and fertilizer, pruning and grafting and weeding. We start out hesitant—you uncertain of your tasks, I afraid to put a princess to work—but soon, you work with enthusiastic gusto, and I am glad to let you do what gives you joy.

Every night, you still wear through your dancing shoes, but yours are less ragged than the other eleven pairs, and you are wide awake with me in the gardens every morning. We talk while we work, but we do not even mention wishing trees or diamond groves or the music of enchanted palaces; there are too many other things to discuss in the sunlit world. You tell me of your sisters, of growing up royal, of books you've read and tutors you've teased. I tell you of the village where I was raised, of the dreams I had of one day meeting a princess—though I do not tell you that I've dreamed I will marry one.

One morning, in the height of summer, you are kneeling beside me, in a gown that you borrowed from a serving girl, wearing work gloves you borrowed from the gardener's shed. There are streaks of dirt on your face, and you smile at me in triumph as you dig up a bulb for transplanting.

In that moment, the sun shines full upon you, setting the gold and brown streaks of your hair alight. Suddenly, you are not an ethereal being, too high and fine for me to reach. You are here, with me, laboring in the Earth—and you glow with joy. It is not the blazing joy of your dances in the midnight palace—burning bright and fast and destructive. This joy is gentler, life-giving—like a hearth fire or a candle flame. It warms and nourishes, comforts and caresses. For the first time, I can picture you as a gardener's wife, laboring with me in a cottage, caring for our children, giving life to sons and daughters and helping me to make good things grow.

I nearly speak something of the joy in my own heart—but the words freeze on my tongue when I hear a laugh high above us.

Five of your sisters—Lyra and Cadence, Harmony and Melody, and in the center of them all, elegant, dark-haired Aria—stand on the other side of the flower bed, peering down at us.

"Is this where you sneak off to every morning, Tina?" Lyra laughs. "Grubbing in the dirt with the garden boy?"

You drop the bulb as though it burns you, desperately try to brush the dirt off your skirt, and back as far away from me as possible on the narrow path between flower beds. Your face burns bright red. "No," you stammer. "I was only..."

"What a charming couple you make," Aria sneers.

"You wouldn't have to leave us if you married him," Harmony laughs.

Her twin adds, "You could live in a cottage at the bottom of the park, and you could bring us our flowers every morning!"

"He is nothing!" you snarl at your sisters. You storm toward the palace, and you do not look back.

I do not see you for two days.

#

On the third day, you and your sisters return to the garden in the company of a prince—yet another who has taken up your father's impossible task. To spare you the horror of seeing me, I keep the white rose in my buttonhole and invisibly tend the wishing trees while you entertain the prince nearby.

Prince Ivan is sterner, more solemn than some of the others. Even I, a lowly gardener, have heard tales of his valor in battle. A thick saber-scar runs from his temple to his chin. He knows the danger he has placed himself in and faces it without flinching. There is something in his eyes that makes me think he welcomes it.

As I watch him, I wonder how he will fare in his quest. Will he reveal your secret or remain in the enchanted world with all the others? For the first time, I question the fate of those other princes. I have assumed they remained by choice, but in such a magical place, can first impressions ever be trusted? For their sake, as well as yours, I must follow you to the dance one more time.

When I reach your chamber in the evening, Prince Ivan is already among you. The twins, Melody and Harmony, focus on flattering him while your sisters tie on the last of their ribbons. His eyes, however, are for the dark-haired, sweet-tempered Princess Melisma. I think she does not dislike the attention.

As you descend the staircase—Melody and Harmony taking the lead with Prince Ivan—Princess Aria keeps Melisma at the end of the line.

"You mustn't encourage him," Aria says. "It might give him reason to follow us back home."

"He is so brave," Melisma says, "and so gentle. Would it be so terrible for me to have him as a husband?"

"If he weds you, he will take you to the Northlands, and we shall never see you again. Is that the life you want?"

Melisma blushes. "No," she whispers.

"Then let him drink," Aria says in a low tone. "He shall be here always, for you to dance with as much as you like. He will be the same brave and gentle prince, but will never take you away from us."

That night at the dance, there is a banquet in honor of the new guest. The tables pile high with delicacies I cannot name, and silent, ghostly servants keep your plates and goblets constantly filled. Prince Ivan looks younger, almost childlike, as he takes in the wonders, and his eyes have lost their haunted look.

"Such a wondrous place!" he breathlessly declares. "All beauty and joy! No sorrow, no politics, no battle."

Aria, seated at his right hand, plies him with red wine, and leads him to speak upon the war he won such honors in. He served with valor and is proud of protecting his people, but he has lost friends and brothers, is haunted by the fields strewn with the bodies of those who died too young.

"I should not speak of such things," Ivan says, putting down another empty goblet. "They are better forgotten."

"Do you not cherish some memories?" Aria asks.

"If I could forget every moment of it, I would," Ivan declares, "and stay always in this dance.

Aria smiles, then takes a golden goblet—the largest and most ornate in the room—from a servant standing at her shoulder. "You may do so," Aria says, "if you only drink this elixir. You shall have no regrets. No duties. No memories of battle. Only the beauties of this world."

Ivan looks to Melisma, seated at his left hand. She squeezes his scarred fingers in her long, delicate ones. "I shall come every night," she says softly.

Ivan takes the goblet from Aria's hand. His face holds the grim determination of a soldier, and the innocent bravery of a child hoping a bitter tonic will bring relief from pain. He drains the cup to its dregs.

When Aria takes the empty goblet, the prince is transformed. His eyes hold the same light of joy as all the other princes, but the honorable nobility of his bearing has drained away, leaving behind an empty imitation, all paper and gold leaf with nothing solid behind. For the rest of the night, he dances every dance with Princess Melisma. She is all joy when she looks in his face, but every time she turns away, she seems close to bursting into tears.

For the rest of the night, I cannot enter into the enchantment of the dance. I see only those princes, and wonder who they were before their will was drained away. I see your sisters dancing, each choosing one partner more than all others, and wonder if they too renounced marriage to someone they admired for the sake of this endless courtship. I travel across the lake in Aria's boat instead of yours, and as her prince hands her off to shore, I see even she seems on the point of asking him to come with her, before dropping his hand and turning resolutely to the diamond forest.

When you alight from your prince's boat, I see no similar love or regret in your eyes. At first I am relieved, and then my anger flares at your heartlessness. I snap off a diamond-spangled branch so fiercely that the sound of its breaking makes your every sister jump.

They glance in all directions, bewildered by the sound. You look directly toward me, your face burning with shame. Though I remain invisible, I know you feel me standing before you.

"What was that?" Melody shrieks in alarm.

"My guardian angel," is all you say, and though your sisters pelt you with questions all the way through the forests and up the staircase, you do not say another word.

When I leave your room, part of me wants to run to the king and tell all, but I cannot let judgment fall upon you without giving you a chance to speak for yourself. The diamond-spangled branch I place in your bouquet is both an accusation and an offer of parley.

You come to me—though you do not know it—when I am tending to the wishing trees, in the most secluded corner of the garden. "You have seen," you say.

"You have witnessed every one and said nothing. I want to know how you can defend yourself."

The innocent confusion in your eyes makes me repent of every crime I imputed to you. "What is there to defend?" you ask. "Every prince chooses to drink. We cannot deny them their choice."

"Do they know what it makes them?" I ask.

"If they do, they don't care," you say.

"Because they have been made incapable of caring for anything but the dance."

"Would you send Ivan back to his wars?" you ask. "Edmund to his awful father? Kristoff to his plague-filled land? They all have horrors they are escaping. It would be cruel to make them remember all the sorrows they were so desperate to forget."

The things that seemed so simple when I stood invisibly at your shoulder are more muddled now that you can look me clear in the face. There is one place in the world untouched by sorrow or strife—can I judge those who have fled for refuge there?

"You have had your wishes granted," you say softly. "Would you deny all of us ours?"

Looking into your innocent, imploring face, I find that I cannot. Your silence, I see now, is not heartlessness, but compassion. Loyalty to your sisters who wish to remain together. Pity for those princes who can find no other peace from their sorrows. There is no simple answer to the riddle that has entangled us all.

"Will you follow us again?" you ask.

"I do not know," I say. "Will you tell your sisters that I do?"

"I do not know," you say.

When you wander at last from the garden, your eyes—and thoughts—are far from me. This game has gone much further than any of us could have predicted. Any bond the two of us have built will break, I think, when pitted against the bond that you share with your sisters.

So that evening, when I pin the rose to my collar and invisibly slip into your room, I am not surprised to find that I am the topic of discussion. You are seated on a trunk in the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of glaring sisters.

"You knew all this time," Aria says, her voice low with anger, "and only now choose to tell us?"

"He vowed to keep the secret," you say. "He could do us no harm."

“Yet now you fear he will speak! He could destroy everything!”

“I told you when I thought you needed to know.”

Aria steps back and smooths her skirts and hair, becoming in one fluid motion the ever-composed crown princess. "There is only one thing we can do," she says. "We hand him over to the king’s justice. He has violated our royal persons by coming uninvited to our bedchamber. He will be hanged before the end of the week."

"No!" you shriek, jumping from your seat.

Your other sisters murmur in surprise—I cannot tell if more of it is directed toward you or Aria.

“There must be some other way,” says soft-hearted Allegra.

“Not if we wish to protect our secret," Aria says. "We have a world of perfection, an escape from all sorrows. We have twenty men who wish to stay there all their lives. We can’t endanger it for the sake of a presumptuous servant.”

You turn to Aria and say, “ He is not the first to know our secret. None of the other princes have had to die.”

Harmony says, "The garden boy is no prince."

Aria gazes thoughtfully at you. "Do you wish us to treat him as one? Let him present himself as a suitor for your hand?"

"I will not marry him,” you say, turning red.

"No one expects you to," Aria soothes. "But he can share the fate of the better-born. Let him dance and dine with us, then, at the end of the night, he will drink and forget there ever was a world above."

Your lips make a thin line, and your face goes white. “He would not like it.”

“Better than death, surely.”

You leave the circle of your sisters, tears in your eyes.

Aria follows you to where you gaze out the window. I could reach out and touch both of you. “Sonatina,” she says, soft and sweet as a mother. “I know you are fond of the garden boy. But you must be realistic. In this world, he can be nothing to you. You cannot marry a servant. He cannot marry a princess. Even friendship between you two can only be a scandal.”

Her words sink into my heart—cold, cruel, yet undeniably true. I have never dared to dream myself worthy of you—but there was, despite all, a small part of me that hoped for the impossible. Yet even if I could wish myself up a name and a title, it would not change who I truly was. Though I will love you to the end of my days, you can never love one such as me.

Aria’s voice becomes brighter, enticing. “But we have another world, where he can be whatever he wishes. You can dance with him every night without shame. You never have to face the impossible choice. You have him, and us, your title, your dances—forever.”

You gaze silently out the window. I stand at your side. I think of the world I would leave behind—the sunlight in the gardens, the wind and the rain and the wonderful flowers—in favor of that underground palace. I think of you laughing in the sun with dirt on your hands, and my wish that we could stay in that moment forever, ‘til death do us part.

It can never be anything more than a wish.

When you assent to your sister’s plan, my fate is sealed. I would risk all to give you the slightest joy. If it is your wish that I drink, I will drink—and gladly.

#

Your sisters come to me with their proposal, offering to present me to the king. They say nothing of their plan to give me the drink that will keep me forever in the dance. You, pale-faced at the rear of the crowd, say nothing at all. I say nothing of my presence at your midnight council. We are all trapped in the deafening silence of our secrets.

I accept their offer, but ask for time to prepare. Before I present myself at the palace, I make another trip to my faithful rose trees.

"Dress me as a prince," I beg. "Give me clothes fine enough to be seen in any royal court."

The second rose tree sprouts a crimson bloom, every petal as crisp as if cut by a tailor's scissors. When I place it in my buttonhole, my gardening clothes become a suit of black velvet, and a white-feathered cap appears upon my head.

As I stride toward the main doors of the palace, not one set of eyes knows me. Guards do not stop me as a presumptuous garden boy. I present myself before your father and he gives me all the respect due a prince.

When I rise from my bow of greeting, your eyes are riveted to my form. As I follow your father from the throne room, you stop me in the doorway with a hand upon my arm.

"Michael?" you ask, all amazed. "Can it truly be you?"

I bow my head—more garden boy than prince. "You need not be ashamed to be seen with me tonight."

Even so, you keep your distance. In the enchanted lake, I ride in a boat as Aria's guest, not yours. During the dance, your sisters all take their turns with me, from eldest to youngest. At last, I come to offer you my hand, but you seem reluctant to take it.

"Will you not dance with me, Princess Sonatina?" I ask.

"What need have you of my hand," you ask lightly, "when my sisters all treat you as a prince?"

"I want no hand but yours," I say.

You look down, your face drawn.

I bow over your hand and say softly, "Fear not, princess. You shall not be a gardener's wife."

I sweep you into the dance, and it is everything I could have dreamed. You are a wisp, a breath, a butterfly, moving at a touch, at a thought, stepping perfectly with my every unschooled motion. There is an energy between us, and at last you yield to it, looking deeply into my eyes.

In your gaze, I see the princess who I loved from a distance in the gardens, the companion who planted flowers at my side, the friend who defended me from her sisters' threats, and now a woman waiting to doom me to an eternal dance.

In this moment, such a fate does not seem a terror—it seems a gift. Here in this enchanted place, I am no gardener, no nameless, abandoned son. I can dwell here and see you night after night, as worthy as any man, if not to wed you, at least to take you in a dance, and know, if only for a moment, that I am the cause of your joy.

We whirl through the ballroom, through dance after dance after dance, neither able nor wishing to stop. After a time, all your sisters and their partners fall still, watching as we move in flawless harmony, our very heartbeats seeming to move in perfect time.

As the final dance draws to a close, you are silently weeping, tears in crystal rivers streaming down your face.

"Michael," you say. "After dinner—"

There is no need for you to speak what I already know. "Peace," I say. "All will be well."

At the dinner, your sisters flatter me, distracting me with delicacies and drink. Yet, they all seem restless, unsatisfied for once with this perfect palace and their empty-eyed princes.

At last Aria approaches with an ornate golden goblet.

"Garden boy," Aria says. "In the world above, you are a common laborer, unworthy even to gaze upon a princess. Here, you are an honored guest, who could dance with her every night should you choose. With this drink, you may stay here always, without the shame of your birth standing between you. Will you drink, Michael Stargazer, and forget all pain?"

I take the goblet between two work-hardened hands. The wine inside is clear as water and thick as blood. The scent intoxicates me, promising me endless joy in exchange for all memories.

There is much I loved in the world above—I love none of it so well as I love you. I close my eyes and set the cup to my lips.

There is a cry, and the cup is dashed from my hands. It crashes to the marble floor, and the wine oozes out in a thick mass.

Suddenly your arms are around my neck, and your face buried in my shoulder as you weep desperate tears.

"Michael, my love! Don't drink! I will love you beneath the open sky, in sun and rain and wind! I will be a gardener's wife! Let this castle crumble into dust! I would rather lose all the world than lose the man I love!”

My despair—though I did not know it by its true name until this moment—becomes hope, bright and dancing. I gather you in my arms and rain kisses upon your brow. It seems impossible that you love me, which makes it all the more wondrous to find it real.

Around us, the princes wake from their trance, and there is life in their gazes. They are men again, with minds and hearts, and the ones who served as boatmen each take one of your sisters in their arms. Your sisters—even Aria—cry with joy to see their restoration.

Suddenly, the ground shakes beneath us. Shards of colored glass and precious stones rain down from the castle walls.

“What is happening?” you cry.

I bend my head to kiss your brow, then look up at the castle. “You no longer wish for this world,” I say. “It cannot last.”

The other princes are already leading your sisters out the door, with Prince Ivan—Melisma at his side—taking charge of all. Each boatman leads one of your sisters to the water. They pile you into boats, and I help them arrange the transport, until you, your sisters, all the spare princes—and, least of all, myself—are safely across to the other shore.

We race through the forests—jeweled branches shattering as they fall—and clamber up the crumbling staircase. You and I are at the back of the line, hand in hand. As we stand at the base of the stairs, we look back at the crumbling palace, the destruction of a wondrous world of wishes.

“I am sorry,” I say, as the palace sinks into the black water of the lake.

You smile at me. “There is nothing to mourn.”

Laughing with joy, you tug my hand and lead me up the stairs.

#

In your moonlit bedroom, you and your sisters are as alive and beautiful as you once were in your mornings in the garden—moreso, because every eye is lit with love. Your sisters stand hand-in-hand with the princes who served as their boatmen. No longer empty revelers, they are men—noble, true, devoted—and overjoyed to be back in the world, despite its pain, rather than trapped in the never-ending dance.

Aria comes to us as we emerge from the staircase. She embraces each of us in turn, then closes and locks the wooden door behind us. The door disappears and becomes a blank stone wall once more. A low roar sounds as the tunnel and its staircase crumble.

“It is gone,” Aria says, "and good riddance.”

We gaze at her in astonishment, shocked to hear those words coming from the one who had been the greatest defender of the dance.

“I lost myself in wishes,” she says, “but I have found the truth again.” She takes the hand of her boatman—a dark man with kind eyes who reigns as prince of a far-southern realm. “I feared the future because I feared change. I thought the dance could keep us together—young and careless forever. Blinded by enchantments, I could not see that I kept us all from the possibility of a better world. You saved all of us.”

Your sister embraces you, and then—one of the night’s most astonishing sights—the crown princess of one of the greatest nations in the world kneels before a garden boy and bows over his dirt-stained hand.

You all ask for forgiveness, but there is nothing to forgive. All your princes—even myself—fell to the despair that kept them in the dance. We can forget the dance and its soulless wonders and return to the real, bright world.

But first, we must tell your father.

#

You all agree that the honor of revealing the secret should fall to me. You give me the three branches I placed in your bouquets, and at first light, still dressed in my princely clothes, I ask for an audience with the king.

Your father needs little convincing to believe my tale—with so many witnesses, and so many lost princes standing before him, there is little room for doubt.

“You have solved the mystery, Michael Stargazer,” the king says, “and have earned the offered prize. Which of my daughters will you have to wife?”

Stepping before all the assembled royalty, I say, “Majesty, I do not wish for a wife that I claim as a prize. I will only take the wife who chooses me freely, with all her heart and mind.”

In the moment of silence that follows, the glimmer of doubt reappears. You declared your love for me in that unreal underground kingdom, but can you do the same in the sunlit world, where your words have real and eternal consequences?

In that dawn-lit room, before all your sisters, your father, and twenty foreign princes, you come to my side and place your hand in mine. “I will be your wife, Michael Stargazer, with all my heart, mind, body and soul, until the end of my days.”

I answer with a kiss upon your brow. “I give you the same, and all my worldly goods, if you will join me in a cottage in the gardens.”

“There’s no need for that,” your father says. “You have helped to save the royal sons of more than fifteen kingdoms. No one would question your right to a title after such service. I can make you a prince, and you and my daughter can have a royal estate as a wedding present.”

After that is a day of rejoicing, your sisters and their princes all celebrating their restoration and my elevation. But before sunset, you and I slip away to the gardens, where I at last show you the two little rose trees that made all of this possible.

“They are beautiful,” you say.

“They have brought me all I could desire,” I say, “but I have one last wish to make.”

In answer to my whispered words, a pink rose blooms on the smallest bush, with a lady’s ring—twined gold and silver, with a diamond at its center—sitting at its heart.

I kneel before you and place it upon your finger. With your ringed hand, you raise me to my feet and pull me into a kiss.

The rose trees are transplanted to a place of honor in the gardens of our new home. You and I tend to them every day, but since we’ve had our three wishes, they grow only ordinary roses.

I am glad.

With you as my wife in such a glorious world, what further need have I of wishes?

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Fifteen

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: None?

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.6k

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The sun shines brightly as you walk side by side with Shanks through the local public garden. Your eyes are spared from the harsh rays by the rim of your hat, but Shanks hasn't brought one. That hardly seems to bother him though, as he walks alongside you, his red hair illuminated and skin dusted with morning sunlight. It’s unfair that all Shanks has to do to look incredible is exist.

“Something wrong?” Shanks asks, picking up on the fleeting expression of annoyance on your face before you can hide it. You’re good at controlling your facial expressions, but he’s learning how to read you before you manage to reign them in. You let out a short breath before tilting your head back to look at him without your face being blocked by the rim of your hat.

“Men have it so easy at times,” you say with leisurely annoyance. “All you have to do is roll out of bed, and voilà! You look like you’ve spent hours getting ready when, in fact, you’ve only just wiped the drool from your mouth.” Shanks grins at your words and hidden pout for a few moments before looping his arm through yours.

“Come now, Aria, you’ve never met Doflamingo. Now there’s a guy who takes his sweet time getting ready. Mihawk spends at least an hour each day trimming his beard and moisturizing his skin, and Buggy probably spends at least half the day touching up his face paint,” Shanks reassures you. “They are far more high-maintenance than you will ever be.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you barely have to put in any effort to look frustratingly handsome,” you huff, turning your gaze to look at some butterflies fluttering around a batch of orange butterfly weed. “Do you know how infuriating that is?”

“Apologies, treasure,” Shanks echoes, looking at your face with fondness. “How shall I remedy that?”

“Oh, don’t bother. I rather like having something to look at,” you sigh dramatically, leaning into his side. He chuckles at your words, for they are most definitely an ego boost, and leads you towards a particularly nice bed of flowers. You preen over the beautiful blooms, pointing at different flowers and calling out their names and meanings. “…I probably spent far too much time reading books on the flower language when I will most likely never need to use that information,” you sigh.

Your companion, closely watching the emotions flicker across your face, makes a mental note to buy a book on the flower language. It’s clearly something you are fascinated by but never had the chance to utilize. Shanks has vague notions about the flower language, but loves to hear you speak so animatedly, so he directs you towards a part of the garden dedicated to tulips. A rainbow of them, to be precise.

“I’ve heard something about certain colors of roses having meanings,” he says, hoping tulips are the same, for he would not subject you to the garden of roses. “Are tulips the same?” Your face brightens, and you beam at Shanks, instantly making the pirate return the smile. Just what he wanted, you smiling and happy.

“Oh! Quite so! Most flowers that have color variations have different meanings, like the purple tulip means royalty, because the color purple was one of the most expensive dyes to obtain for clothing…” You continue speaking animatedly, pointing at different beds of colorful tulips and explaining the history behind the meaning of the color, clearly enjoying yourself.

It takes some convincing to draw you away from the gardens on Shanks’ behalf. You know quite a bit about plants as it is and are more than happy to babble away as you walk, attached to his side like you belong there (you most certainly do in the eyes of everyone who sees you). Now led towards the market, your lips pinch in slight distaste for what is to come because you, after all, promised that he could buy you one present. Regretfully, you didn’t set a Berry limit for that item. He could very well buy you a ship of your own!

At least you have a feeling that he wouldn’t do something so outrageous, but small things can be just as costly. You sigh to yourself and lean against Shanks’ side, chiding yourself for fretting over something so silly and menial when you are supposed to be enjoying your day. Shanks eyes your partially covered face.

“Something wrong?”

“Do try to be reasonable, dear,” you reply airily and with a tone of exasperation. “I don’t need to be carting around an entire crate of baubles.”

“Right, I’ll remove the crate of baubles from my shopping list,” Shanks chuckles lightly. “Perhaps I shall focus on something more sensible… perhaps a ship or a house—”

“No, no,” you cut him off. “I will be stopping you right there, Shanks.” You give his arm a threatening squeeze, which to him is hardly threatening and feels more like a tickle, to be honest. “I would rather you pick something meaningful, something I can treasure to look back upon this day in fond memory.”

“So that’s a no on the manor for sale just up the hill?” The pirate cheekily asks, grinning at the small glare he receives from beneath the rim of your hat. “I’m only jesting, treasure. Stop scowling at me. The manor wasn’t a terrible idea…”

You snort, having a vague memory of a similar conversation months past. “No, it was a terrible one,” you fire back with a sly smile. “You know I can’t be bought.” He returns your smile, giving you that crooked smile of his that you love so much.

“On the contrary, madam, you are deserving of only the best,” Shanks counters, already mulling over ideas of what he could get you in his head.

“I should have given you a Berry limit,” you half-heartedly gripe before turning your attention back to the stalls you and Shanks are strolling by. There are a lot of goods you like to admire but hold no real value in buying to you, certainly when you temporarily live on a pirate ship… yet roaming stall to stall, you find great satisfaction and fulfillment walking about arm in arm.

You pause in front of a stall selling handmade scarves and preen over the patterns and intricate stitch work. Shanks has to blink his way through a rapid session of you and the shopkeeper discussing stitch techniques and embroidery thread. He, of course, has absolutely no idea what the words coming from your mouth mean, but he is more than happy to see you speaking with someone outside the crew with such an animated smile on your face.

He wants to keep it that way.

It’s a great surprise when you actually pull out a stack of Berry and buy several spools of thread, a package of fresh needles, one embroidery hoop, and a few yards of different colored fabrics. You have a talent for mending clothing, as he and the men have long since found out, but Shanks wants to see something you make for enjoyment rather than need.

“Should I assume that I shall finally see an example of your catch stitch?” Shanks offers with a smile as you slide the cloth bag of your newly bought supplies onto your free arm. You give the red-haired man a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not hemming. This is for embroidery,” you correct him. Shanks laughs, lips twitching at the corner. “If you want an example, just look at Limejuice’s new pants. I hemmed them last week.”

“Forgive me for not knowing the difference between embroidery and hemming.”

“You are forgiven, my love,” you flippantly reply, dragging Shanks to the next stall to fuss over tea blends currently on display. As airily as you have spoken those words, certainly with a touch of matched sarcasm, Shanks can’t help but bask in your spoken words like a lovesick fool. To have you this unguarded and playful is a privilege itself! While Shanks gazes unabashedly down at your partially covered face, you let your eyes wander the market.

It is entirely coincidental, but what catches your gaze is the jeweler's stall with its glimmering stones and metal. You unconsciously pull Shanks in that direction, your eyes brightening at the sight of beautiful rubies sparkling beneath the sun. You aren’t interested in any more ruby necklaces; you treasure the one currently hanging around your neck most dearly. But you have been on the lookout for a pair of earrings.

Earrings aren’t exactly on your top list of concerns while at sea, but you are interested in maintaining your pierced ears and still wish to hold at least the bare minimum in clothing and jewelry. One never knows when the need might arise to dress formally. You also really like the way the sunlight illuminates gemstones so beautifully. Especially the rubies. The fire that burns in the little jewels warms your heart and reminds you of the very man at your side.

“This is the last place I expected you to stop at,” Shanks chuckles in amusement, watching you carefully eye the different-shaped earrings on display.

“A fair assumption,” you murmur, eyes sliding between studded earrings and dangling ones. “I’ve come to decide that with a necklace as beautiful as the one currently hanging around my neck, I should have a pair of earrings to match as well.”

“Welcome, madam, sir,” the jeweler greets, “I hear you are interested in acquiring a pair of earrings?”

“Yes, we are,” Shanks replies, moving his hand to your back to prompt you. “Aria?”

“I am looking for a pair of ruby drop earrings that match the one I am wearing,” you speak, touching the warm ruby hanging from your throat. “Something casual but still appropriate in a formal setting.” The jeweler nods in understanding and thinks for a few moments, studying the ruby you wear.

It is of the highest quality and clarity, clearly a triple A, the cut is oval, 58 cuts, and the metal used is just as high quality. He hums to himself and reaches down beneath his stall to take the case of ruby earrings with his best rubies. Placing it on the counter, the jeweler shuffles a few earrings around until what you have requested is front and center.

“Perhaps one of these may catch your eye?” Oh, they most certainly do, but you also feel a bit overwhelmed. You’ve never been allowed to select your own jewelry. Picking something out is proving to be quite difficult, especially when you don’t know what looks good on you or not. You turn your head to look at Shanks.

“May I borrow your eyes?” Shanks’ eyes glimmer with mirth and his eyebrow rises, a tease poised on his tongue.

“I don’t know how much use you will get out of my eyes, madam, when you have perfectly working ones, but if you insist…” You let out a short huff, smack his chest with your hand, and roll your eyes.

“You are well aware of what I mean, Shanks. Take that smirk off your face and help.” You chastise him half-heartedly before taking a closer look at the earrings. Chuckling for a few more moments, Shanks turns his gaze from your lovely face to the ruby earrings. The rubies do indeed match the one hanging around your neck. It all comes down to the design. While you would look incredible in any design, even the ostentatious ones, you have a dislike for the frivolous and want something that can be used for many different purposes. He finds a pair that would look quite nice with your necklace and takes one to hold up to your ear.

“What about this one?” he asks, admiring how you look with the ruby near your ear. “I think you look radiant. What do you think?”

“Well, that is the problem,” you sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror the jeweler holds up. “I’ve never chosen my own jewelry, so I don’t know what I like or dislike.”

“Just pick something you like on you. That’s all that matters, Aria,” Shanks replies, switching out the earring for the next one. Holding it up, he nods to the mirror. You look to the mirror and chew on your lip. It looks nice, but perhaps it’s not quite your style? Between the jeweler and Shanks, you narrow the earrings down to a pair that your eyes keep going back to. The pattern on the metal matches your necklace, and the ruby really does look nice with the one you already own.

“There, see? Wasn’t so hard.”

“Not hard?” you huff, raising your eyebrow and giving Shanks an unimpressed look. “Dear, you have no idea how many tea parties I have attended whose sole purpose is to gossip over jewelry faux pas.” Shanks’ eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a laugh.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but you aren’t exactly surrounded by that type of vanity, Aria?” He reminds you, taking one of the earrings and carefully slipping it into your ear. With the earring hanging from your ear and catching the sparkling sun, he taps your chin and steps back to see the earring and necklace at the same time. You eye him and take the remaining earring, sliding it into your other ear before turning to face Shanks with your hands on your hips.

“Very well, ignoring any faux pas I might be committing at the present, how does it look?” As you finish asking that question, your stomach lets out a rumble in protest. Late afternoon hunger makes its presence known. Your face flushes with embarrassment. “You didn’t hear that.”

Shanks laughs at your words while his smile widens.

“I think it’s time that I feed the madam. We have been wandering the market for quite a while,” he says, turning to the jeweler and pulling out Berry to cover the earrings. “Thank you for the earrings.”

“The madam makes the earrings. It is my pleasure to see my work upon such a beautiful woman,” the jeweler answers with a slight bow of his head. You let the red-haired man pay for the earrings, keeping the promise you had made that he was allowed to buy you one thing from the market. As you take Shanks’ arm again and begin walking towards the town square filled with food stalls, you remember that your stomach had distracted you from receiving an answer regarding how the earrings looked. You like them, but does Shanks?

“So, how do they look?” you ask as you both turn down a street leading to the market square overlooking the harbor. The setting sun is still quite high in the sky, but the rays of sunlight that break through the clouds illuminate you. Shanks pauses and turns towards you, then reaches up and pushes your hat back until the strings catch around your neck. Now he can see your face fully. The light breeze ruffles your hair, and your new earrings sway, catching the light in a vibrant red.

“You are beautiful,” Shanks speaks, his eyes crinkling at the corners and lips curved. Your eyelashes flutter for a moment as you slowly take in his genuine words. Your forehead furrows, and the redhead begins tugging you in the direction of the market square again.

“You didn’t answer my question though, Shanks!” you protest weakly, hastening your footsteps to catch up to his side. He still doesn’t answer your question, just smiles. “Shanks!”

Date Published: 5/1/24

Last Edit: 7/29/24

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[asmodeus-mydearbeloved]

• Obey Me Shall we Date headcanons :P

— Satan feeds off of people's rage, wrath and murderous intents. He would amplify their rage to the point of murderous, and he's only smirking as he feeds off of you. (Except when he actually cares for you, he will try and stop himself just for your sake.) When wars come, Satan watches from a nearby distance and feeds off of the bloodshed. But- it does not mean he doesn't feel the injustice of it all, he does feel bad at times but what can he do? He's the Avatar of Wrath that lives for the war and bloodshed.

— Asmodeus feeds off of people's lust, especially towards him. Affairs and Brothels.. Anything that doesn't come with love, Asmo feeds on. Does not mean he likes non consent or very underage, in fact. He would see it as a complete disgrace, he would feel guilty for how he's actually feeding off that sick and twisted lust. And he's more than willing to kill the one who forced themselves onto children or anyone.

— Satan and Asmodeus are the children that Lucifer cannot take his eyes off of- ESPECIALLY when they are together. Often times, Asmo's flirting and seducing gets him to the point dozens of people lusts after him and will do ANYTHING to be with him. Then Satan comes in to put the admirers rivalry against each other, amplifying their anger to the point of actually killing each other, which is likely to start an entire war where only Asmodeus and Satan benefits from it, and they do not give af.

^^ "Aww Satann.. You didn't have to get them so riled up and jealous of each other that it starts an entire war..~" "You started it." "I can't help it, I'm just so perfect that anyone can fall for me! I didn't mean for it to turn out like this..~" "Yeah yeah.. Amusing, humans are so easy to be driven to murder..~" "Oh?"

— Asmodeus calls Lucifer 'Luci' and that will never change

— Solomon and Leviathan hangs out often in Levi's cooped up room, They usually game, watch anime or their favorite thing to do is watch or read anything related to TSL. Now they have Mc joining them from time to time

— Beel and Belphie both like headpats, I don't have any backing evidence except that they look like they do

— Asmo frequently scolds Satan to put his other arm in his jacket to the point Satan kinda just does it but then takes it off once more after Asmo's out of sight, Asmo found out about it and just left him be but that doesn't mean he doesn't dislike it at all

— Mammon names every crow he encounters and somehow he remembers everytime so when he walks down the street and notices some crows he'll be like "Yo! How's life Julian and Aria?"

— Satan has a bit of an experience with dealing with hairstyles cause Asmo sometimes asks him to do his hair while in a rush and he's doing his makeup

— Asmo and Mammon takes LONG getting ready which is why when they're all going out somewhere, Lucifer tells them 3 hours beforehand as to not be late. But somehow they always do end up late by 30 mins- or a full hour

— Beel akes a very comfy pillow which is why Belphie just sleeps on him when too tired

— Lucifer taught Mammon how to make flower crowns, so sometimes when they're near flowers. Mammon likes making Flower crowns and even gifted it to Mc, Mammon also made one for Lucifer before and Luci didn't mention it but he put a spell on it to make it not wilt and have it in his room as one of his most precious items

— Asmodeus broke a mirror once by punching it so hard when he first saw himself as a demon, he was terrified of his horns and black horns and thought he wasn't as pretty/pure as he was before

— Belphegor finds any place comfortable to sleep in, don't ask how but he once slept on the ceiling.

[prosciuttulipa]

I saw that your requests for JJK are open. Can I get an opera singer girlfriend headcanon for Geto?💃💋

Geto Suguru with an Opera Singer Girlfriend

tw: slight angst at the end (because it's Geto Suguru), but otherwise none.

a/n: This is my first time writing for JJK, so do let me know if you have any feedback or comments!

Geto Suguru likes to think that if he hadn't become a jujutsu sorcerer, he would've pursued something in the arts. Perhaps he would've become an author, or a sculptor. But he's made up his mind to be a jujutsu sorcerer, and so art remains a hobby to him.

Nevertheless, he holds creatives in high regard. He's under no illusion that an art career is difficult, and he admires the consistency and courage it requires. Geto finds it freeing to watch an artist create or perform—it feels like watching birds fly overhead.

Opera is an art he doesn't have a lot of experience with, so he queries about it often at the start of your relationship. How did you get into opera? What do you love about it? Do you have a favourite singer, or aria? Do you have a dream role? He enjoys learning about the art form, but even more so the bright expression on your face as you talk about it.

He asks Satoru for help. Going to the opera was part of Satoru's fancy Gojo clan upbringing, and Suguru pesters Satoru for any knowledge he has on the art. Satoru is unfortunately useless (he always fell asleep during it), but he helps by using the Gojo name to procure free opera tickets.

He makes it a habit to carry extra lozenges for you. Suguru has them for when his cursed technique takes a toll on his throat and tongue. But he's started associating them more with you, when you steal his candies to soothe your throat after practice. He sneaks a few into your bag, just to be safe.

He also brings you warm drinks whenever you meet up. When his throat hurts he tends to chew on ice, but he's heard that's bad for singers. If you have a favourite hot beverage, he makes it a point to always get it for you.

Suguru calls you "my songbird", as a pet name. He uses it when you're feeling a bit insecure about your talent, wanting to cheer you up. "Won't you sing me a tune, my songbird? You have such a pretty voice." If you need an extra laugh, he'll reference the Phantom of the Opera, putting on a dramatic voice: "Sing for me, my Angel of Music! Sing for me!"

As a date idea, you decide to teach him how to sing an opera duet. Suguru isn't very confident in his singing, but he lets you try to coach him. He's somewhere between a tenor and a baritone, according to your observations. His cursed technique actually means he's great at controlling his throat, so he's less inclined to strain his voice.

Unless he's away on a mission and can't physically be there, he'll attend all of your performances. You get a bouquet of flowers after every performance, and a kiss to your cheek as he murmurs praise into your ear. If he's unable to make it, you get a good luck text beforehand, his bouquet of flowers sent directly to your changing room instead.

He asks you to sing him to sleep after particularly stressful missions. Suguru doesn't enjoy opening up about being a jujutsu sorcerer—he'd much rather keep that part of his life away from you—but he still wishes to seek comfort, in his own way. The way he usually does this is by lying his head in your lap, or asking you about the songs you practiced that day. When you answer, he'll express an interest in hearing an excerpt, quickly falling asleep to your voice when you oblige.

My pretty girl with a pretty voice. What else could a man ask for, songbird? Don't be shy. I love hearing you sing.

[okaeri-ossan]

I've been under the weather so I randomly picked up this Alice Soft visual novel called Diabolique. The company is a legend in the industry as is known for creating the (much praised and maligned) Rance series. I haven't played that but I have played Toushin Toshi and Mamatoto, both of which I enjoyed quite a bit. However, I've been really surprised by Diabolique so far...

Diabolique is a pure love story about a demon-ish kinkiller guy named Azulite falling in love with a very punished little girl named Leticia. Tragedy befalls them, and the immortal Azulite travels the land in search of Leticia's reincarnations with the goal of making her happy throughout all her lifetimes.

I was seriously surprised by how pure it all is. There were some lines in Toushin Toushi that made me go "awww" and I assume that's thanks to the writer Tori, who has had her in hand on Alice Soft since the start. There's lots of tooth-rottingly sweet sentiments, like "I'll chase all the bad things in your nighmares away" or "even if you won't speak to me, I'll watch over you so you're happy". They're the kind of straight-forward precious words that I always fall victim to. TOO KYUUUUUUTE! It gives the work a feeling not dissimilar to... joseimuke? But there's a bunch of monster r*pe sometimes too. But also there's cute stuff. So yeah, too kyute LOL

The most moe character isn't any of the heroines, though (even if Leticia and Aria are very adorable). It's the immortal demon protagonist, killer of his own kind. Azulite is the gentlest, sweetest man I have no clue how he ended up in an H-game.

When I said the game was pure love, I meant it. This man is too pure. He starts off the game wandering through the desert alone all badass-like before stopping to talk to flowers ("aren't flowers and humans the same?"). He's timid in front of people and painfully polite, always bowing and saying excuse me, tripping over his words when he's flustered (which is often). He has a genuine deep care for the heroine, promising to protect her from the painful things in her life. It's a promise so strong he follows her into her next lives. It's okay if she falls in love with someone else, as long as she's happy and safe. He tries to do all the domestic chores (FRILLY APRON TIME!), he gets up early to cook for her, he draws her a hot bath if she needs it, and most of all he watches over her when she sleeps so she won't get nightmares. In that case, isn't he like a guardian angel? He's a demon who hates himself and prays to God because he wants to be good, but I think he ended up acting like a real angel. Leticia, the poor heroine who experiences endless tragedy throughout her many lives, will always be loved where ever she goes. I still have yet to finish it but I want them to be happy in the end. And if they can't have a happy ending, then I hope he will continue following Leticia through her many lifetimes...

It's not a game I would recommend for various reasons-- the painfully outdated system, the menu functions that break the pacing in areas, the previously mentioned r*pe that pops up-- but it's got so much wholesomeness (I know that sounds silly after what I've just said) I can't stop reading. Sometimes, you need some sugar sweetness in a brutal world. Sometimes... malewife (╯▽╰ ) Okay time to go see if I can snag any doujinshis of the main couple they are mega totes adorbz KYAHHHH!!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[mytyldotwav]

FREEEEEEEESIAAAAAAA

Freesia is a song from Guilty Gear XRD. But it could have been released in Strive and still hit just as fucking hard. That's because it's applicable to multiple aspects of the story.

Sol Badguy is one of the most powerful characters in the GG universe. At least, he's in the top 10 (probably??). Despite that, he's a grown man who is a grief-stricken mess and has questionable direction to his life.

In my opinion, this song is best interpreted as coming from Frederick. Not Sol, the Badass god-like gear that has saved the world on several occasions. Frederick Bulsara, the man that lost everything important to him.

The start of Freesia is someone reaching out to Frederick. Because really? Frederick does a lot of brooding and self-isolation. He wouldn't reach out to someone otherwise. His head isn't in the clouds, it's in space, drifting aimlessly amongst the stars.

But everything is fine, Frederick says. There's enough air for at least 2 people where he's at, and he's alone. So everything is ok. Frederick, or more accurately, Sol, has everything he needs. He's achieved great feats normal humans only could dream of achieving. He's reached greater heights than anyone ever has, and yet? Something is still missing.

There's enough air for 2 people up there. Boundless information. Wisdom beyond that of any normal human. But there's enough air for 2 people. And he knows why, but he can't bring himself to say it.

"The whole world is kind to me"

Yes, Sol has reason to be happy. Everyone has rewarded him for saving the world. Everyone appreciates what he has done in some way, and every day brings fresh start. The world has been ushered into a new era of peace; but there's someone missing. But Frederick can't bring himself to tell anyone what it is.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry..."

It'd be ungrateful for him to imply something was missing, or that something could be wrong. Sol apologizes, but laments his cowardice.

This next portion feels more like Frederick reaching out, or at least telling someone in passing about how miserable he is:

"The world may crumble down with just one piece missing"

Now, he is (to the best of his ability) trying to be genuine and honest about how life's trials have affected him. Frederick is saying that if he can't get that one thing back, if he can't reach his goals, why continue? Without this thing he's been pursuing for DECADES, actually being obtainable, his life has no purpose. He's just a shell of a man looking for comfort in the past.

This is where the dam breaks. This is where Frederick and Sol's lives converge into one. Frederick Bulsara is Sol Badguy and vice versa. He can't pretend that his reasons for fighting and living don't come from a place of loss and pain. He's not just bounty hunting for money, not just traveling the world because he can. His emotional strength isn't there because he's fixed all of his problems. His experiences have made him physically stronger, but mentally? He's exhausted and desperate for rest. Everything he has done up to this point has been for Aria Hale. But if she's gone, everything falls apart. There is no point.

That's why the song is named Freesia. A Freesia is a flower from South Africa that is commonly seen at weddings. They typically convey deep trust, friendship, thoughtfulness and sometimes purity.

And then the line hits. You know the one.

This moment in the song is an outburst of love, both platonic and romantic. This is the moment where Sol can't hide that he's still Frederick. He's still human. And damn it, he still loves that woman-- as Aria or Jack-O.

"Here I am" is a resignation. He tried ignoring the emotions building up inside of him for so long, neglected his humanity, acted as nothing but a weapon for so long, and he is tired. The mask falls off. He is finally allowing himself to be vulnerable and honest with the world.

Sol isn't proud of it.

He shouldn't have isolated himself for so long.

He shouldn't have lied about his emotions.

He shouldn't have pushed so many kind people away.

If he had done those things, maybe there would be less blood on his hands. Maybe he would have lived a more normal life.

But he knows that's not true. Aria meant too much to him. Sol would still miss her as desperately, even if he continued down a different path.

Yes, he had reasons to feel the things he felt. But at the same time, there were also so many people willing to help him start again. and he sees it now, as clear as day. Aria had been his world for so long. But he was missing so many beautiful things because of it. Frederick had spent so much time trying to save Aria that he became single minded in his endeavor. It led him to become isolated. It kept him from living his own life and that's what Aria wanted for him so badly. She didn't want to weigh on his mind, she wanted the happy memories of them to help Frederick continue living.

So the apologies tumble out again for the last time.

Frederick was surrounded by, and floating through galaxies. Worlds of people surrounded him and yet everything was touch and go. A passing greeting. A quick handshake. Knowing glances. He had recognition, respect, power, and yet, when the fight was over? Sol would leave it all behind again and move back to Aria. But that isn't what she would have wanted.

Reading through the lyrics, I initially thought Frederick was saying that he couldn't protect or save Aria, and that was what the final line meant. But I believe that's not the whole message. Frederick wasn't able to prove himself to Aria: Sol didn't keep living on like she wanted him to. He forgot her final wishes in his grief, and for the first time, he sees that. Now, finally, Frederick is ready to fulfill them.

• ○ ● Thanks for reading! ● ○ ●

[anewe9]

My black mage is too cute... (and a carboncopy, too)

If you like Spy x Family (SxF) you might find this somewhat interesting. A plus if you are a wee bit familiar with Harry Potter (HP)

If not, skip this.

Warning: Chapter 1 Spoilers for My Black Mage is too Cute under the cut. Long post, too.

Yes, the above is official. It is not fanmade. The chap above is a student actually saying "I will kill you" whilst thinking "I like you". The pink-haired girl is a classmate, shocked as SHE CAN READ HIS MIND.

So... what can I say? The boy looks suspiciously like a teen SxF Damian, and the kawaii girl looks like a teen SxF Anya. Browse the damianya tag and you will see how similar they are.

Other than being students in a magical school (hi, Hogwarts), and girl is a prefect (hi again, Hogwarts) the rest does look like an AU Damianya to me... sans the Damianya/SxF charm.

-Background-

My Black Mage is too Cute (such an unimaginative title but on par with other shoujo titling standards) launched in the August 2023 Hana to Yume issue 17/2023.

The premise is quite damianya simple: Tsundere boy, named Jade, with a rather obscure family, is hiding romantic feelings for your standard bubbly, chirpy pink haired shoujo heroine, named Aria Popwell. She is a senior (third year) to him (first year), and prefect at their School of Magic.

-Aria, the female lead-

Seriously, "Aria"? Nothing to connect with certain Anya, right?

Anyway, chapter starts with introducing Aria, the female lead. She is a prefect (whatever this means) at Hogwarts Hardy Quartz Magic Academy, "where apprentice magicians attend classes" We don't know where this Academy is (Japan, I suppose)

Aria is in her third year (no sure if this is a grade, and in fact, how many grades there are if any). She also teaches other junior students (perhaps for being a prefect, this is not confirmed) Her first words are to let us know that Kafugori are big bad wolfs that are very dangerous and how to face them. This is important to the plot (more on this later) It also sets some expectations. To me, I am led to believe that Aria is proficient and competent in whatever she does as a magician or at least, as a student in a Magic Academy.

Yes, let's have a closer look at our heroine... Yep the ^_^ shoujo trope.

Oh no no... that is not a damian jade-shoujo-filter yet. This is how WE are meant to see her. The shoujo flowers are absolutely necessary to help you understand that she is the cutest, loveliest creature on Earth. Unfortunately, we have seen the same face, same flowers and same cheerful shoujo attitude hundreds of times.

-Jade, the male lead-

Yes, this is Jade. Probably if Damian's puberty makes him... agonisingly emo teenager whilst keeping his mysterious and irresistible good looks. Or else. And Yes, Anya Aria just read his thoughts for the first time, much to her shock. Apparently until now, she did not know she can read thoughts when she touches people.

-Giving Tsundere a bad name...-

In case the first time's insults (pushy bitch) were not clear, he escalates his attitude. (Note: I appreciate that the fan translation might not be that harsh, so probably bitch is not what the original Japanese intended to sound) As he is such a cute and charming misunderstood black magician, he has to make sure his prefect is well aware that he is not only terrible at throwing unimaginative insults... he is also proud to announce he will kill her. Why? I do not know.

If you are a hopeless 13-year-old romantic teen that finds that charming, I hope you grow up out of this as soon as possible. If not, please stay away from handsome, dark, mysterious boys/men who might feel the opposite when they say "I'll kill you" Good looks are not worth it and I bet you do not have mind-reading abilities.

There is a kind of cute tsundere (Damian himself, though he is just a young boy), this is not one. There is absolutely nothing sexy, romantic, attractive or remotely interesting in a guy that pretends to hate you, says he will kill you, when they actually like you. Insulting is no praise either and I detest this trope.

Some tsundere fail to recognise or deny (again, Damian, he is too young); some are a bit embarrassed and these pass soon. Insulting and threatening is not charming.

-No, we don't need to see your fantasies (part I)-

Is he really fantasising / wishing to be kissed by her???

Yep, he is. What a creep.

It is bad enough that this guy thinks Aria is cute/hot/pretty and admits (to himself) that he likes her, when in actuality he is insulting her (a charmer). Wait, why would she kiss him? Because she is flattered she is called pushy bitch? Slow poke? Because she likes to receive death threats?

I was truly hoping Jade wanted her to kiss him to destroy that stupid crush. Only an idiot would kiss such a jerk. That would be his eye opener, at least, to realise he cannot possibly like someone so daft. Otherwise, this is ridiculous.

-She is adorably clumsy... NO. She is not.-

Moving on, good news is that the story goes to the point, way too much. Does not waste time with world-setting, simple when/where/why/how/what...

No, we meet cheerful Aria, and dark Jade like that. Other characters do not have any names, and do not really matter. Simple and lazy storytelling.

As Aria is completely shocked she reads minds, she has some little insights/flashbacks about this newly (and conveniently) found ability. No creativity, no build-up, no surprise, nothing. It just happens. Maybe this will be developed later, but it is just dumped like that.

Next panels are a few random examples of him pretending not to care about her, but actually saving this clumsy Aria girl. Too fast and again, no time to digest anything.

First time Jade stops a magic lab accident by destroying a hazardous chemical aimed to that foolish girl.

Second time, he appears to be shoving Aria off his way when in reality, he was saving her from being poisoned.

Why is she even a prefect???? How come she is not aware of the hazards around school??? Why are there hazards like those in a school no matter how magical this is???

Frankly, instead of being charmed by Jade's apparent indifference (yet saving her arse), to me this is a disservice to the girl that started the story being introduced as a prefect. We meet this shoujo heroine explaining useful tips as to how to defend yourself from big bad magical wolves. Sets a bar, you expect some proficiency even if you are not (yet) explained her merits or how she got the prefect status. By being this dumb, requiring the hero to save her, we have to lower our standards. At some point, even Jade himself wonders how she even became a prefect in the first place...

Back to the story, as now Jade inadvertently picked Aria's interest after saving her, we have Aria determined to know him better because, and I quote "Is Jade actually a really good kid who's easily misunderstood?"

So she joins him for lunch. Basically now she is trying to connect with him which only makes him complain and insult again. Now I have to agree with Jade, and I hope these attempts to connect with him help him realise his crush is as dumb as Aria.

How many times have we seen the kawaii heroine with that exactly same pose??? Eye wink + finger + cute smile + shoujo flowers. This is supposed to charm boy who (for no reason) is already charmed by this standard shoujo/magical girl trope.

The highlight of the chapter is when dark boy saves clumsy useless girl from being eaten by a Kafugori. Yep, the same beast she started the chapter talking about. Too bad, I would have appreciated getting rid of this ridiculous FL.

Why is a prefect unable to defend herself when chapter started with this lady mentoring others? I've no idea.

Why is the first year student able to save her? Other than a convenient plot device, I suppose we are led to believe that (1) he is powerful (more than her, but this is not a high bar at this point) (2) as he is a dark mage or comes from a family of dark mages, then his abilities are better. Or both.

She is again pushy, wants to understand why he saved her again (and yes, we want to know too) The pacing and rhythm are confusing, he declares he does not want her around because he is dark magician and would stain her reputation. There is a flashback when they meet, on his first day at school, and apparently, how he started his crush on her.

Again, the same shoujo-face, with shoujo-flowers, with naive shoujo-girl that smiles at sad kid declaring she does not care about his dark magic nature.

-No, we don't need to see your fantasies (part II)-

After the flashback to understand (?) why he seems to like her so much, Aria insists she will help clarify that he is actually a nice kid so that everyone knows.

Then she touches him again, and so she reads his mind.

My face mirrors Aria's. D:

Why does he have such ridiculous fantasies about her?? Marry her??? WHY??? Even poor Damian, being six years old, did not even fantasise about marrying Anya (and it is overkill, yet so appropriate for the comedic tone of SxF) With panels like this one, I wonder if this is actually a parody of shoujo fantasies, inspired by damianya doujins, or the author is really serious about this romantic trope.

To be honest, there are damianya doujins that are ridiculously charming, and follow the comedic style that SxF has and it is so refreshing. Here, those fantasies seem so serious I am inclined to believe it is just feeding shoujo readers.

-Conclusion-

Yes, there are fics and doujins that do a much better job at using the crazy and hillarous setting of a tsundere boy crushing on a mind-reader... A tsundere's worst nightmare.

However, this story has not earned that tone yet. It feeds from the premise of Hogwarts with a teen damianya... but both worlds (HP and SxF) are set and well-constructed. This one not yet.

This is a confusing setting instead, I am reading this as a (serious) romantic story (shoujo) with some supernatural/magic environment and bits of comedy. But also, perhaps it is just a comedic shoujo with a HP/damianya parody; a parody of both shoujo and HP/damianya ship; an homage to SxF damianya... Or simply a confusing combination of shoujo tropes with zero creativity (nothing we are presented tries to be original) The humour/comedic tone is just not good either.

Speaking of... and considering that Damian and Any are in primary school and are just little kids, these two have so much charm. She can read minds, yes, but she is young (it is implied she is 4 or 5 and not 6 like Damian and the rest of her little classmates) Therefore, Anya cannot identify that Damian has a crush on her, and Damian, as a little boy, does not know how to deal with a crush. The insults are not cruel, they compete with each other and they also care for each other in a naive, adorable way. But here... Aria just unlocked this mind-reading ability, so maybe it would have been more interesting to see her confused by his feelings towards her, as a first time mind-reader, making the comedy more intriguing. But no, she clearly reads him and concludes he is misunderstood and wants to help him (?)

The fantasies he has (kiss, carrying her bridal-style) are so disconnected... Even with the lame flashback, we have no reason to understand why he seems so infatuated other than Aria being pretty and choosing to ignore his dark reputation. He does not even know her (ok a boy crushing on a pretty girl does not need more) And when Jade gets to know her just a bit, it is to realise she is useless. And the crush seems to be at least the same or worse (wedding!!!) But again, I cannot help to remember how Damian started his crush: it was earned. We see him noticing Anya at the student ceremony and smugly believes she is the one crushing on him. Such a conceited brat. Then she punches that very smug face (priceless!) and you cheer for Anya. And then she tearfully apologises for punching him. Damian realises he does like her, we are shown his now celebrated damian-shoujo-filter... and we have to adore this kid. Poor Damian runs away embarrassed and disgusted (he is a child) And then their friendship develops, with comedy and nice moments that do progress their connection (keeping it in line with their age) Anya does not take advantage of Damian's feelings for her, as she is clueless about these.

But with Jade and Aria, I found no chemistry, nothing to really empathise with Jade's feelings towards her other than she smiles too much and has the standard kawaii looks. Compare that to how badass Anya is, she stood her ground, yet she was such a sweetie when she genuinely felt sorry for punching him. She is not necessarily pretty all the time, but Damian's shoujo-filter sees her as such a cute girl. I insist: the crush is earned. I would have crushed on Anya, too. With Jade? Not really.

Conversely, I also struggled to understand why would Aria care for such a jerk, no matter how pure his actual feelings are. Yeah, we need to wait for him to realise, and publicly accept he is not actually a killer and he has this heroic streak blah blah. But I am not even intrigued by this potential either. Moreover, I mentioned that Anya did not take advantage of Damian's feelings as she is not aware of these. Aria declares this mind-reading ability will make her "feel guilty" and "she will not touch anyone again"... yet she definitely touches Jade, and does use his secret to approach him. How noble.

Regarding this mind-reading ability, with Anya, we don't know much (yet) other that she was experimented on since birth (or was she born with the ability?) With Aria, we are shown a simple flashback of her Mum mentioning this ability as "high level magic only used by some bloodlines with excellent magic manipulation skills" and that some Popwells have the ability. Being so useless, Aria is not in the Sue category yet... but I hope being such a special snowflake with such great blood and the cute shoujo clumsiness does not make her one.

Probably this Story has not found its place yet, and I am definitely not the target group. But I would have never considered myself the target group for the crush of a 1st grader like Damian, and here I am. I will read the next chapters until I confirm my suspicion, but this is definitely not my cup of tea.

If you like this, it is okay, too. It is simple (very, very simple), easy to read, and does not seem to deceive anyone: Aria will eventually fall for the misunderstood tsundere with a secret heart of gold, and probably more shoujo tropes will be added to the story (boy saves girl, exes, competitors, jealousy, his family of evil magicians...)

1/5 only 1 for some decent artstyle. Zero/few backgrounds making the art super amateur and lazy (only faces and people) And lack of originality.

[shiranuieditorial]

Light & Airy ✨

Personal name ideas for you, your characters, pets, future kids, or just for the sake of the discussion! All free to use! 🤗

⚠️ Disclaimer: Genders mentioned below are only intended as guidance; not strict rules I’m ordering anyone to follow.

Feminine-leaning given names:

艾咏 Aiyong

Amanda

Anya

April

Brianne

Cherry

Demah

Elara

Essie

Farah

Feriyal

日桜 Hio

Iin

Kaia

和咲 Kazusa

Kirana

Laila

Lorelei

Mehelia

味蕾 Mirai

Pia

Rihanna

流実 Rumi

Sari

文麗 Wenli

Yanti

弓杏 Yua

Zoulah

Gender-neutral & unisex given names:

Aria

亜早 Asa

白赫 Baihe

Dara

Dewey

Efren

Emre

Foxy

芽生 Gao

Hallie

Harper

輝羽 Hwiu

Irama

Lucky

Mahaka

Morning

Noa

Ora

Ovie

Pom

Roya

Salewyn

Sherrel

Tinne

Venera

怡翎 Yiling

Zephyr

茲棋 Ziqi

Masculine-leaning given names:

André

Chaim

Diler

演二 Enji

Hapsara

Helio

Iago

Iriawan

Karim

Kindi

Kopong

Lev

丸応 Maruo

Neo

Nuwa

Owain

René

Riady

Soren

Tasafi

Thamin

Vier

Wayan

希明 Ximing

Yahya

Yansen

Ziko

Zulkifli

Okay, okay, okay... Explanation time!

🌬️ So, these names I’ve compiled sound or feel soft, light, and airy to me, regardless of what their respective etymologies mean.

🎐 It’s all about the vibes with this one! In my head, I’m taking a moment to feel the breeze in my face…

Who says we have to be so serious and formal and academic all the time? 🤷🏽

Let’s try to have some light-hearted fun with this name bank!

⠀

🗺️ There’s a variety of cultures and languages featured here. The Sinitic ones in particular are:

🇨🇳 艾咏 Aiyong — “mugwort chanting; mugwort singing”

🇯🇵 日桜 Hio — “sunny cherry”

🇯🇵 和咲 Kazusa — “harmonious blooming”

🇯🇵 味蕾 Mirai — “taste bud”, lit. “flavour” + “flower bud”

🇯🇵 流実 Rumi — “flowing into reality”

🇨🇳 文麗 Wenli — “prettiness of culture and literature”

🇯🇵 弓杏 Yua — “bow and apricot”

🇯🇵 亜早 Asa — “inferior morning”

🇨🇳 白赫 Baihe — “white radiance; white eminence”

🇯🇵 芽生 Gao — “shooting forth sprouts”

🇰🇷 輝羽 (휘우) Hwiu — “bright splendour feather”

🇨🇳 怡翎 Yiling — “plumes of rejoice”

🇨🇳 茲棋 Ziqi — “this chess”

🇯🇵 演二 Enji — “performance two”

🇯🇵 丸応 Maruo — “round answer”

🇨🇳 希明 Ximing — “hopeful brightness”

⠀

Curious about any other name’s meaning and origin? 🤔

Don’t worry! I had researched everything before putting them in the list. It’s a habit at this point. 👌🏼

Send me an ask or comment below any curiosity and I’ll respond! 👇🏼

⠀

👀 Let me know which of these given names caught your eye? Do you know anyone with any of these names? Do you agree or disagree with my personal interpretation of “light and airy” vibes?

[emevergreen]

OC lore time (weird boygirl edition)

thank you sm for the tag @zoroarkthief!! I'm always happy to share about my wol :'))

Khed'a Dakwhil

—B A S I C S

Name: Khed'a Dakwhil

Nicknames: His adoptive mother called him cicada :> The scions will sometimes call him khedy (tataru started it and then everyone else followed). Aymeric calls him angel as a term of endearment.

Age: 28 at the beginning of ARR

Nameday: Second Astral Moon, 16th Sun

Race: Keeper of the Moon Miqo'te

Gender: Nonbinary, Genderfluid

Orientation: Bisexual with a slight lean towards guys

Profession: He's held every odd job you can think of but predominantly considers himself a white mage.

—P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair: Dark brown bob

Eyes: Orange-Brown

Skin: light skin tone

Tattoos/scars: He has a scar of hardened skin in the center of his chest. He also has crystalline streaks going up his forearms. Both are a result of prolonged exposure to earth attuned aether.

—F A M I L Y

Parents: His birth mom is [redacted], and he doesn't know who his father is. His adoptive mother, Aria-A-Yan, was his conjury mentor when he was taken in as an orphan to the conjurer's guild. She was really supportive of him and helped him open up.

Siblings: None!

Grandparents: He heard stories of his grandmother but never knew her.

In-laws and Other: I really like him with Aymeric and considering the end of Heavensward, he's not on good terms with his father-in-law. Lol. As for other relatives, he's very close with the brother of his adopted mother, E-Sumi-Yan, and considers him like an uncle.

Pets: He has a little bird that follows him around named Thistle. He befriended it on the road to Ishgard.

—S K I L L S

Abilities: Khed'a has precise aetheric control as a highly skilled white mage. Due to the condition with his body, he has to keep a careful eye on his aether. During his time with the padjal, he learned how to properly manage and control the aether in his body. He is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to healing. He learned self-defense techniques while among the padjal that later served him when he moved on to pick up lancer/dragoon as a job.

Hobbies: He enjoys collecting and brewing different teas. He also really likes going on walks, especially when he is in a new place or just needs some time to think. Khed'a has a journal where he takes notes on the local flowers, plants, and insects of an area (and will sometimes press flora in it). He also likes to keep plants, though as a traveler he's found that difficult to maintain. He has a plant in a small pot that he's kept alive by propagating every so often. Khed'a also enjoys birdwatching.

—T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: His resilience and commitment to making the best of things in any given situation. He doesn't get discouraged despite it all.

Most Negative Trait: He's sometimes too willing to help others, to the point of stretching himself thin. He has issues with being objectified/being treated as a tool for others. He still falls into that role and struggles to properly adovcate for himself since it's a deeply ingrained pattern of behavior he's unlearning.

—L I K E S

Colors: Deep green, earthy browns, red, deep blue, smoky gray.

Smells: Freshly fallen snow, bergamot, chamomile, freshly washed sheets, a warm fire, flowers in bloom.

Textures: soft fabrics like silk and satin, freshly polished wood, the steadiness of a lance, leather, smooth pieces of metal (like jewelry or trinkets).

Drinks: He likes tea most, especially bergamot. He will also drink juices and lemonade. He enjoys hot chocolate as well.

—O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Nope.

Drinks: He doesn't drink alcohol but he will enjoy tea :3

Drugs: Nope.

Mount Issuance: Black Chocobo gifted from his friend Haurchefant. He will also use the unicorn he befriended as a conjurer, or the witch's broom mount.

Been Arrested: Yes (Post ARR :) Aside from that he hasn't run into too much more on that front.

I tag @freckledfemme @redgemwink @eirikaily @lululeighsworld @cogentsummoner @gnusnoteunuchs & anyone else who wants to talk about their wol/oc in general :3c

[mistyfarm]

My wishlist & ideas for a hypothetical Rune Factory 2 Special:

- Option to choose between a male or female protagonist in first generation. FEMC’s name can be something lame like Kylie or Kyla or Kira idk LMAO

- All the rivals will therefore become bachelors! Yayyy the barrett girls will finally win

- The non-chosen protagonist will show up in the game as an NPC (think, like, pokemon.) They will stay at the Eagle Inn, their gimmick being some sort of mysterious, wandering vagrant who gives the player the ability to change their name (Basically a combination of Lukas and Ivan from RF1, and Mistress Trupin from RF4.) They are non-marriageable but, if befriended, the player can get a few hints about their past.

- ALTERNATIVELY: They could be the bartender of a hypothetical bar in town? Multiple characters in game are referred to as drinking buddies and there’s a whole event (the flower festival) that’s seen as an opportunity for people to get drunk, so it honestly kind of confused me there was no bar in Alvarna. I know these are E10+ games but honestly if RF1 had a bar there’s no reason RF2 can’t have one as well lol. It could be like the bar in stardew valley too! have everyone gather there on friday nights for easy gift-giving access, it’s perfect

- Additionally, if Kyle is the non-chosen protagonist, he will marry a bachelorette if her intended husband is already married to the player.

- Not really sure how rival heart events would function in RF2’s system but fuck it, any candidate with a rival will have heart events with said rival. For the drama

- We don’t need to lock EVERYTHING behind the second gen wall. At least let us forge weapons or brew medicine in the first gen. Maybe have these be something that the player can unlock if they befriend tanya or natalie? I always make kyle befriend those two so maybe I’m biased LOL

- Alternatively: give the gen 1 player access to a small kitchen, at the very least. Herman is nearly impossible to befriend in the first generation because all of his gifts are cooked dishes and it sucks because if you are ME (insane) you try to befriend everyone in every single playthrough

- Updated gen 2 portraits for most, if not all, of the cast. It’s understandable if older characters like Byron or Gordon look relatively unchanged after the timeskip, but the younger characters should have updated portraits! I think it would be cute if Dorothy’s portrait changed to show her eyes since she’s now a confident nurse, or if Mana and Barrett dressed differently after becoming teachers, or if Roy and Cammy had visibly grown into their awkward teen years. There’s possibilities!!

- Have more characters acknowledge your child as their relative if you marry a member of their family. It’s very cute that Max acknowledges this but I want all characters to express it because its very fun for character building

- I think it should be harder for your child to access the dungeons in the 2nd gen. every character is like “dont go into the dungeons!!!” and then you can just turn around and walk in. i want aaron and aria to do some solid snake shit to get into these dungeons. i need to see cardboard boxes. sunglasses and trenchcoats. perhaps even false identities. lets get silly with it (i fully acknowledge this would be a terrible design decision) (i dont care)

- remove the marriage events from the second generation, they feel so arbitrary compared to gen 1! The themes of second gen are family ties and the solidarity the kids build with each other, so i think friendship and story events should be prioritized instead

- Bring social services to Alvarna because honestly your child is so neglected by both of their parents its tragic (this is a joke) (kind of)

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Mercury: Misty Breaths

Designer's Reflection: Misty Breaths

Obtained: top-up for Tides and Flames event

Rarity: SSR

Attribute: Gold/Elegant

Awakened Suit: Dark Contracts

Story - transcripts from Designer's Reflection

Chapter 1 - Beneath the Ice

Chapter 2 - Spirit in the Lake

Chapter 3 - Forgotten Sagas

Chapter 4 - Black Tide Rising

Story - summarized

Mercury and his group finally found the Altar of Arionus, located at the bottom of Lake Bovaly. With the assistance of the Water Elf King's gem, he followed the path into the lake and down a dark passage.

And there, still preserved after all this time, was the stone altar. A misty wraith guarded it, emitting shrieks and screams. But Mercury was not deterred. Instead, he approached the spirit and declared himself a friend of the Water Elves.

The dark mist revealed itself to be Flo, one of the earliest and most devout followers of Arionus. He was there to witness the scorn of the other Elf Gods, as well as how Hephaes led to his great god's demise. Indignant and vindictive, Flo would do anything to restore the great God of Water.

Mercury announced that he had a plan to awaken the long-lost god, but he needed help revitalizing the New Moon gem. Flo readily agreed, and the last of his ghost faded into vapor as he transferred power into the gem.

Now, Mercury could uphold his end of the deal struck with the Water Elf King: he would awaken Arionus, break the oath binding the Water Elves to the deep sea, and assist in the downfall of Pigeon Kingdom and the Light Elves.

But he wouldn't do this for altruism. All he wanted was a glimpse of the power of the Abyss, and he needed Arionus back to do that.

Connections

-Mercury made a deal with the Water Elf King in Startide Dream. Now, he's fulfilling that deal by triggering the events of the Tides and Flames hell event.

-While Mercury craves the power of the Abyss, he still knew the risk of the Goddess of Desire's presence in Miraland and worked alongside the rest of the Shining Nikki cast during the Angel and Demon hell event. He provided resources to the other three factions.

-Flo has met Hephaes, but in Arionus' Reflection for Lost Tides, Flo didn't trust Hephaes one bit, and the moment the other Elf Gods ambushed Arionus, Flo was quick to pin the blame on Hephaes as a betrayal.

-This is not the first time Mercury wasn't the narrator of his own story: the first half of Startide Dream, the full story for Nightmist Aria, Daybreak Overture, Snow Song, and Reminiscence of Flower (to name a few) either feature another character narrating the story or none at all.

Fun Facts

-Even though we've seen Mercury make the deal with the Water Elf King before, this is the first time a mark or emblem has been mentioned.

-This Reflection is a prologue to the hell event, even to the Moon Memories.

-It's never clear if the New Moon gem is the same blue gem the Water Elf King gave to Mercury the day the young boy left the Pigeon palace. But it fits the description.

-While Mercury knows that gods exist, he doesn't worship any and sees them merely as pawns, like the mortals he meets.

[marinahavik]

Introducing my Oc's today's episode Dione Havik

Havik: This Dutch surname is derived from the word “havik” which means “sea hawk”

Dione

The name Dione is a graphic variant of Dioni, a nickname for Dionysia, which has Greek origins. Some meanings associated with the name Dione are “spirit of the waters” and “the sky and the waters”.

She comes from an influential family in the Coral Sea, they are known mainly for their jewelry making, and because of this they gained a noble title.

The family symbol is pearls, the Havik family became a noble family just over 100 years ago, due to their parents Aerion (This name has Greek origin and means “divine water”) and Aria (This name has Italian origin and means “air” or “melody”. It is often associated with the element of water due to its fluidity).

Aerion is a hawk fae while Aria is an ocean nymph, both species can live for many years.

They started a jewelry business that over time became a great success, so much so that wearing jewelry made by the Havik corporation means that you are someone with a very high status, some of the main customers are the Al-Asim and the kingscholar.

Despite all the wealth, no one in the family tends to waste luxuries and riches, they tend to prefer a quieter life.

To avoid problems, the family's house is located inside a cave, which is guarded by huge sea serpents.

You rarely see anyone from the family at the fancy parties that noble and royal families usually throw, but the few times they appear, all the attention goes to them.

To prevent the children from receiving too much attention, especially Marina and Dione, Aerion and Aria rarely accept invitations to parties, and the times they attend, they are without the children, they do this to protect them, after all, since the beginning of time, the Nymphs are often persecuted for their beauty.

About the nymphs

They are beings linked to nature, they are divided by ecosystems, so there are flower nymphs from forests, the sea, rivers, etc.

They are considered the fastest beings in Twisted Wonderland, every year fleeing from mortals, gods and monsters since ancient times, made them undergo evolutions, making them faster, and with their senses enhanced to the maximum.

In addition to being very fast, they have the ability to transform into plants and animals to escape their pursuers.

They are experts in animal language, being able to communicate with any type of animal, whether magical or not.

As an ocean nymph, she possesses great command over the waters, her unique magic only enhancing these abilities.

About your personality

Unlike her younger sister, Dione is calmer and calmer, and does not have as much energy as Marina.

Dione is someone who doesn't usually talk much, preferring to remain silent analyzing situations, she only speaks when she thinks it is necessary.

Of the two sisters, she is the more responsible, and tries to prevent her sister from doing something stupid, or ending up going overboard when it comes to doing their work.

In the same way that her sister's appearance makes others think she is not dangerous, which means that other people may either let their guard down around them, or try to intimidate them, neither of these decisions is a wise decision.

Like her sister, she really enjoys Yumi's company, and was very angry with Azul and the twins when she found out that they took Ramshackle.

Appearance

Dione is 1.66 tall

She has short black hair that is always loose, has bangs pulled to the right side, and wears a blue bow at the back of her hair, and has very beautiful green eyes.

Her uniform consists of a white button-down blouse, a gray vest, black and gold jacket, black ruffled skirt, dark tights, and black boots with gold details.

Curiosities and more information about her

A first-year student at Octanaville, she is also part of the first-year problem class

And right-handed, she likes to collect old things, and just like her sister likes cute animals

She likes anything that involves music, she is part of the board game club.

She is childhood friends with the Leech and Blue twins, as well as Sebek and Silver, as her father is friends with Lila and Sebek's grandfather.

Despite being half fae, she and the rest of her family prefer to live in the coral sea.

Her maternal family is practically a secret to the rest of her friends, they may even know her mother Aria but the only thing they know about her maternal family is practical.

Sometimes she and her sister, along with her mother, and other female relatives go to an island called Temiscira, where it was magically protected to prevent men from entering, so it's basically a vacation island for women, they ended up taking Yumi on one of these trips. So the girl could get some rest, and on this trip to Yozakura she ends up learning more about her own language and her family's origins.

has a crush on Azul, but never talked about it, tired of seeing their friends having feelings for each other but never talking about them, Marina, the Leachs and Yumi (who ended up in the operation by accident) got together and came up with a plan to that Azul and Dione finally became a couple

How they met (azul and the Leech)

Azul met the Havik family, on an ordinary day for him, he was running away from some classmates, and hid in a cave, the cave in question served as the entrance to the Havik house, the twins were leaving when they found the little one hidden octopus.

He was very scared and it took him a while to trust the girls and consider them friends, but her family accepted him and treated him so well, that Blue was happy to finally have friends.

Some time later the Leech also met the Havik, and they became a much respected and feared group in the Coral Sea, and their fame continues in the Raven night.

how things work in octanaville

She and her sister usually work as secretaries at Azul, they also work as waitresses and on the days they work the Lounge is crowded.

Because many students only go there to see them and make the poor customers spend more than they have, leaving the poor without money and having to work in the salon to pay off the debt.

Octanaville has rules to make the lives of employees and customers comfortable, especially for the girls, breaking the rules means the Leachs will break their bones.

Many end up being afraid to approach the Havik, as there will always be a Leech nearby acting as a bodyguard. In Dione's case it would be Jade, as she is not afraid of the eel and they both get along very well.

Because of her pretty appearance and "naive" appearance, many tried to trick her or intimidate her because they believed she wouldn't react, but it's not like that, all the idiots who underestimated her ended up in the infirmary, but it was her sister Marina who ended up becoming more famous, as it sent 5 Savannah students to the infirmary with serious injuries

Blue and the Leeches rule Octanaville and, as they are childhood friends, the twins have some privileges. Marina, in particular, tends to enter the office without knocking, and she and her sister have permission from Azul to take care of the Leeches (especially Floyd) when they cause trouble. As scary as it is for the Octanaville students, a common scene that happens sometimes would be Marina using her hydrokinesis to make them behave, so seeing Floyd tied up by the water currents and being dragged away became an everyday scene.

In the same way that it ended up becoming common to see Dione dragging jade by his ear, when he tries to feed someone with poisonous mushrooms.

I hope you enjoyed the post, likes and reblogs are appreciated, the next post will be about the Yozakura family

[fanfaire]

　　 ——— ARIA OF ABLUTION ! ———

　　　　　　❝　FAREWELL, happy dreams of the past 　　　　　　the rosiness in my cheeks has already gone pale 　　　　　　the joys, the sorrows soon will end, 　　　　　　the tomb confines all mortals! 　　　　　　do not cry or place flowers at my grave, 　　　　　　do not place a cross with my name to cover these bones! 　　　　　　ah, the misguided desire to smile; 　　　　　　god pardon and accept me.

　　　　　　　　　　　 ♕

lights, camera, curtain! furina has arrived at the liyue harbor lantern festival.

please read below for more information on the details of her being here; i've taken some creative liberty to work her into the occasion as more than just her attending a festival out of curiosity, to provide more potential avenues for interaction!

ENTRER EN SCENE : furina de fontaine.

— it wouldn't be furina if we didn't start with the look. due to her reason for being here, she had a custom tailor, working together with liyuean fashion consultants, put together an attire in which she'll be seen in all public capacities at lantern rite. it's a marriage between liyuean and fontainean designs, and, as furina has heard that it is considered the year of the dragon, has many dragon patterns and motifs inked and embroidered throughout. she also has her hair done up ( its in its long pneuma look ) in a french bun with a few curled loose locks in front, and a gold hairpiece also in the shape of a dragon

— speaking of the reason she's here: furina is preparing for a new production that's made its way through fontaine's social buzz. it's a well-known liyuean opera that's reached international popularity due to a recent manhwa adaptation that took bookstores across teyvat by storm, titled grove of wild boars. fontaine is putting together their own stage adaptation, and furina is serving as a consultant to the director, who, while talented, is still young and inexperienced with the industry. she's here with most of the production crew mostly on research, and the timing just happened to line up with lantern rite. so why not enjoy both!

— though furina will also be busy with production research, she enjoys social and lively atmospheres, and will rarely say no to being approached or introduced to a new experience. she'll most likely be found: around the opera houses and venues; around the nearby areas both urban and wilderness with the production crew; any stand selling sweets; ( occasionally ) squirreled away somewhere quiet and remote to have a moment to decompress

inbox :　open for interactions! dont gotta ask just yeet em in i want to emphasize i'm going to be doing all event interactions as minis with a 250 wc challenge to keep things manageable for myself below are also some specific plot ideas i'm tossing out if you'd like to do something more unique and plotted! please leave a comment with the symbol if you're interested in grabbing a specific plot and i'll get back to you ( it also helps if you leave ur discord if ur comfortable. if not, i'll tumblr dm you )

🍨 after sampling xinyue kiosk's dessert stand, she has to experience the full dining experience at the restaurant herself, especially after learning about its gourmet, luxury service and ambiance! but for a once-archon, for whom attending lavish banquets was once bread and butter, furina finds herself . . . unable to justify the cost of it now, even without chevalmarin's scolding. but she looks so forlorn out there, eyeing the menu. won't you take pity on her?

🐦‍ plenty in the team had told léandre it wouldn't be a good idea to bring his umbrella finches on the trip, but the director-slash-bird-enthusiast simply couldn't bear the thought of leaving his beloved pets behind. and in an unexpected accident, the completely-expected happened — startled by the wild popping of liyue's firecrackers, the birds escaped their cage! all five of them. and you, for one reason or another, have been pulled into helping retrieve them.

💎 while on a walk on some quieter rural roads outside the city, the jade pendant furina had bought earlier in the day suddenly shatters around her wrist. isn't it supposed to be indestructible? —what furina doesn't realize is that jade is meant to ward away evil. only, the evil now fast approaching was far too strong for one measly jade piece to handle.

🕯️ the adepti are such a core part of liyue's cultural shaping and belief system that furina felt the need to visit one of the shrines and pay her respects. only, she can't help but feel that something doesn't sit right about a fake ex-archon offering prayers to a divine being. you catch her in such a rare state of conflict and hesitation, otherwise alone. ( a ruminative, melancholy angled prompt )

🎭 the production crew has secured vip seating for a showing of auspicious dragon and phoenix, performed by the celebrated yun-han opera troupe at heyu tea house: a hard to come by opportunity particularly during lantern rite season when just viewing the traditional masterpiece is said to bring good fortune. only one snag: they need just one more member in their party to qualify for large group price discounts, which they could sorely use given their allotted funds. who'd pass up the chance, right? come attend an opera with furina!