#I think the design of his crown is different now so I’m sorry it’s a little outdated ahshsjdj

[capricioussun]

trick or treat! 👻

Happy new year 🎉✨

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases. 

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 

Almost. 

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him. 

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

 He hums contemplatively. 

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 

“About what?” 

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?” 

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum. 

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you

I love you. 

-

part two

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Behavioral Lessons - King Ben x Reader

Summary: You push Ben's buttons too far

Words: 5.3K

Inspired by a section from my Dating Ben Would Include. Ben didn't lose his beard or fangs in this guys. He just didnt. So with that, he might just have some other… beast like qualities. (im so sorry i went rouge)

Link to photo of the dress, but if you hate it, just ignore when the dress is described and picture whatever you want to be wearing!

Warnings: Smut, uhhhh, thigh riding, a bit of edging, choking bro im not well at ALL for doing this to poor mitchell, not proofed

Edit: oh god. yall this is so dirty. i didnt mean to make ben a degrader but here we are... I’m sorry if I ruin this franchise for you rip i ruined it for myself

You had to take matters into your own hands. You hadn't seen Ben in weeks. And when you had, it wasn't for more than a few minutes when you passed each other in the corridors of the castle. He hadn't even been returning to your shared room at night, sleeping in his office instead. You were growing restless without your fiancé.

Since you were both twenty-one, your wedding was coming up. With the nearing celebrations on top of his usual king duties, Ben had been more stressed than usual, which is why you hadn't seen him recently.

So naturally, you just had to take matters into your own hands. You knew the way to help your fiancé was to help him relieve his stress, and you knew just how to push him to get there.

Every Friday night, you sat down with Ben and his parents for dinner. But this Friday was special. Not only were his parents going to be there, but so were your friends. It was the final Friday before your wedding and it would be the most you've seen of him in weeks so you were looking forward to it. And what was to come afterward.

...

You kept the dress hidden for months. It was strapless and fell mid-thigh. The body of the dress was a pale yellow, the outer layer was a sparkly floral pink fabric, and the bodice had tiny bows up the front. Evie had designed it for you and was standing in front of you now.

"Oh. My. God. I don't think I've ever made anything better. You look incredible. Ben is gonna go craaaa-zyyyyy." She was gushing over you, shoving a pair of gold shoes into your hands. "Now put these on, and then let's get to that dinner.

You looked at yourself in the mirror absolutely mesmerized at your reflection. Your legs looked incredibly long with the length of the dress paired with the heels. Dizzy had so graciously styled your hair, a simple updo, but with your small tiara on your head, it was perfect. You smiled at yourself, bringing your hand to your neck where a small, gold, necklace with the letter "B" sat.

...

You were giddy with anticipation, ready to see Ben, ready for him to see you. You entered the large dining hall, filled with your friends from the Isle and Auradon. Belle was at your side immediately, looking beautiful as always.

"Y/N! Sweetie! You look lovely!" The small woman hugged you. "I am so looking forward to you and Ben's wedding next week. It is going to be beautiful!" You smiled at her.

"Thank you! I'm excited about it too. Ben is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky to be marrying him." Then, Lumiere announced that dinner had been served and as you turned to go to your seat, Ben was behind you.

"Hi." He was giving you the smile that made your stomach flutter with butterflies. His hands were on your waist almost instantly, bringing your body closer to his. He looked perfect, would you expect anything different? The blue suit with the golden crown was a look you'd never get tired of.

"Hello." You smiled back at him as he kissed you for the first time in weeks. You broke it first, knowing that people were most definitely watching you and that you needed to leave him wanting more.

As you walked to your places at the table, Ben whispered in your ear...

"You look incredible, Y/n." You flushed at the compliment and at the way his voice sounded when he said your name.

You sit next to him, the chairs closer together than normal with the new amount of people. The plan was in full motion now.

The feast was grand, as it usually was, but before it began, Ben rose to give a toast.

"Thank you all for joining Y/N and me," He gestured for you to stand and join him. His arm wrapped around you instantly. "In our final feast before our wedding." He turned to you, his beautiful smile returning again. "I can't speak for my beautiful fiancé, but I am so happy that our closest friends and family were able to join us tonight." You spoke before he could go on.

"I am also very happy you are here!" The hall erupted in a chorus of laughs and Ben squeezed your side.

"I'm so honored to be marrying such a wonderful person. I cannot wait to share the rest of my life with you.” You smiled at him as he bent down to press a soft kiss to your lips. He whispers, "I love you." and then he pulls away to continue. “Alright, I’m sure you all want to eat, so I won't bore you with my love speech any longer."

...

As everyone else ate, you counted the minutes until you could begin your plan. You didn't want to start it too early or too late. You had to wait for the right time. Ben was such an attentive fiancé that he had noticed your behavior.

"Honey?" You were startled at his voice in your ear again. "Are you feeling ok?" You turned to him, noticing that he was looking down at your chest, blushing when he looked back up. You shifted at the sight of his tongue running over the tips of his fangs.

Now. It was time for your plan.

You set your hand on his upper thigh, leaning over to whisper into his ear.

"I guess I'm just hungry for something else..." You ran your hand up further before you were stopped by him. You looked down at his hand grasping your wrist, right above the seam of his pants.

"Y/N." His usually sweet voice was stern. You set your face with a smirk but innocent eyes, looking up at him. His jaw was clenched but you could tell you were getting somewhere. His skin was dusted pink and his pupils had dilated. "What are you doing?" You reached your fingers to brush against the fabric of his pants and he snarled, his grip on your wrist tightening.

"Ben!" His father interrupted and he swallowed, squeezing your wrist once more.

“Stop if you know what’s good for you.” His words were low and then he turned to his father who was across the table. You took this moment to shake yourself from him, turning to the former king, before placing your hand back onto his pants.

Ben jerked, trying to keep his composure in front of his parents and friends, but how could he when you were teasing him like this? In order to not draw attention to himself, he kept both hands on the table.

"Son, are you ok?" Ben eyed you, giving you a glare that only spurred you on further. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm fine." He continued his conversation with his father, talking about God knows what, as you continued to tease him. You were half listening to Ben and Adam and the other half of your brain was only thinking of making Ben as flustered as possible, so you ran your hand over the growing tent in his suit pants. You could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure, his breathing had gone uneven, his face was red, and he kept glancing at the big grandfather clock behind his father's chair.

You smiled, gave his clothed member a squeeze, and withdrew your hand, reaching for a large piece of chocolate cake. You looked over at Ben, his eyes narrowed on you as you brought a bite to your mouth. His slip in composure was glorious and you winked at him as you brought a bite of cake to your lips.

You almost choked on the cake as his hand slid onto your thigh, just past your dress, fingers skimming the soft lace of your underwear, already wet from your actions and your thoughts of the night to come.

"So needy that you've resulted to disobeying your King? How pathetic." His lips grazed over the skin under your ear before he leaned back to look at you.

Your thighs squeezed against his hand involuntarily and it was his turn to smirk. He regained his composure, returning to “normal” Ben, now free from your teasing.

You, however could barely eat your dessert with his hand pressed between your legs.

“Regretting our actions are we?” He whispered to you as his engagement ring slid over your core. You covered the gasp with a cough. “That’s what I thought.”

...

The second dinner had ended, Ben's arm was around your waist. As the two of you neared the doors of the large hall, his name was called.

His dad and Lumiere were behind you.

"Your Majesty, your father and I have been talking and there are a few things we wanted to go over for palace security during the ceremony. If you come with us, it won't take very long." Ben's face was completely normal as he gave Lumiere a nod before turning to face you.

He plastered on his King Ben smile, brushing his hand against your cheek, bringing your lips to his, but he didn't kiss you.

"I hope you know, I'm not going to be nice tonight." His lips were on yours for mere seconds before he stepped back, running his tongue over his fangs once again. Then, he turned back to Adam and Lumiere, leaving you in the dining hall, thoughts running wild about what was to happen to you that night.

...

You called Evie as soon as you got back to your and Ben's bedroom.

"Do I keep the dress on? Or do I wear something else?" You were frantic, walking around the closet, not knowing what to do.

"Girl! Calm down!" You had told her what had happened and she was so excited she practically screamed. "If I were you, I would put on one of his dress shirts. He won't be expecting it when he comes in to punish-"

"Oh my GOD, EVIE!" The laughter on the phone was enough to make you roll your eyes. "Thanks for your help." You grumbled.

"Let me know how it goes!" Before you could reply, she hung up. You set your phone down and grabbed one of Ben's white dress shirts along with a simple, white lace lingerie set from a drawer.

Slipping the dress off, you carefully put it on a hanger and set it in your closet. You slid the shirt on, buttoning it up, leaving it open just enough to see the bra you had just put on. You began to take out your hair, setting the crown down on your vanity counter, and removing the pins holding the updo in place. Finally, you applied a bit of lipgloss and a spritz or two of Ben's favorite perfume before climbing onto your shared king-sized bed.

...

Thirteen minutes later, not that you had counted, the bedroom door burst open, and in walked your fiancé. His eyes locked on your body as he removed his suit jacket. You knew he was waiting for you to look at him, so you obliged, looking up from the random book you had picked up, you really weren't reading it anyway. He was glaring at you as his hand loosened his tie and removed it. You tried your best to look at him with the most innocent eyes you could and he chuckled.

You watched as he unbuttoned the first two buttons of the white shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. When you looked back into his eyes, they were almost black.

"Did you have a good time at the dinner, my dear? Did you enjoy yourself?" His hands were placed on the bed so he was leaning down. His tone was condescending, which sent shivers down your spine. He was always so sincere. This new side to Ben was intoxicating.

“Answer your King when he speaks to you.”

If he noticed your eyes widening in shock, he didn’t acknowledge it. He was unmoving, his eyes challenging you, taunting you.

“I’m not going to ask again.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you nodded.

Ben chuckled again, his fangs on display. Any sight of them made your heart race and he knew it.

“No, honey. Use your words.” His voice lowered. “Or do you want to disobey me again?”

“Yes, I enjoyed dinner.” Your voice was small but you held your ground, not breaking eye contact. You challenged him back. “Did you enjoy dinner, Ben?” A dark look crossed his face.

“Why don’t you try saying that again, using my correct title?” You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, but you had to admit, you liked this side of him.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight…” You sat up from the headboard, leaning towards him, and bowed your head. Then, looking up at him through your lashes added, “…my King?”

His eyes narrowed again and his hands wrapped around your ankles, tugging you to the end of the bed. He settled his knee between your legs, brushing your clothed core on purpose, but not acknowledging it. His hands settled by your head and he hovered over you.

“No.” He dug his knee into you harder and you threw your head back, exposing your neck to him as you moaned. “No, I didn’t.” You felt his finger slide down the column of your throat before hooking itself around your necklace laced with his initial. He leaned down, mouth hovering over the pulse point in your neck. “My bratty fiancé couldn’t keep her hands to herself.”

His teeth ran down your neck and goosebumps erupted at the sharpness of the canines. “You haven’t touched your bratty fiancé in weeks.” He tugged on your necklace and your eyes found his again.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Now that was a surprise.

Though he got stressed fairly often, he never used vulgar language. You had heard him say “damnit” once after losing a Tourney game in high school, but that was it.

Suddenly, you felt your body flush at his outburst. You didn’t reply, too shocked to say anything.

Ben smiled, but it wasn’t his good King Benjamin smile.

This smile was positively wicked.

“I believe I asked you a question, Y/N.” The fingers hooked on the chain around your neck now rested softly on your throat.

Holy shit.

“Yes.” The words were almost inaudible.

“M’sorry… what was that?”

“Yes.” You spoke clearly now.

He snickered.

“That’s now how you properly answer a question, now is it? Let me ask again.” His fingers tightened slightly. “Do you want your King to fuck you?” The word rolled off of his tongue like honey and your hips rolled into his knee.

“Yes, I want you to…” His eyebrow went up. “…fuck me.” His fingers withdrew from your throat.

“Hmm.” Suddenly he was standing up, leaving you on the bed, catching your breath. “I don’t think you’ve earned it.”

You watched with wide eyes as he sat down at your vainity in the corner of the room. He looked so casually regal. His crown, the unbuttoned shirt, his crisp blue slacks. But there was some other air about him that was making you crumble in his hands. The way he was man spreading, his long legs awaiting as your own throne. His beard and sharp fangs you were aching to feel between your thighs. Your toes curled at the thought.

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you honey?” The mean tone from before had returned. “You’re thinking about me fucking you?” Your face flushed so much you were sure it went down your whole body. You quickly realized he’d asked you another question.

“Y-Yes. I am thinking about that.” Your snarkiness from before was long-gone. He gave you another wicked smile. His picked up your crown, which was much smaller than his since your coronation would happen after the wedding.

“Well, are you going to sit there all night or are you going to come finish what you started at dinner?” You got up from the bed immediately crossing to where he sat. His fingers wrapped around your necklace again, tugging you to his level. Your knees hit the floor, hands on his thighs while he brushes your hair from your face. He tilts your chin up to meet your eyes.

His hand retracts while he takes you in. On your knees in front of him, wearing one of his shirts and dear God, the white lace of your bra peeking out at him was making his head spin.

No longer having self-restraint, Ben’s lips lock on yours. You moan into his mouth as his hands wrap around your torso, pulling you to sit in his lap. He growls into the kiss as you grind your hips into his.

Finally. You thought to yourself. Ben’s control over his respectful manner had cracked a little but your goal was to break through it completely. And you knew by his bruising grip on your hips that you were on the right track.

Then suddenly, Ben wasn’t touching you anymore. Your body was left heaving on top of his while he leaned back in the chair, resting his elbows on the armrests.

“Go on.” You stated wide-eyed at him. “I’m not going to do all the work here, honey.” Your face flushed as you looked to his crotch, the tented fabric strained. “You did this…” His hand grabbed yours, setting it back onto his pants. “…so do something about it.”

Slowly, you began to move your fingers and Ben’s eyes narrowed.

“You and I both know you can do better than that.” His hand found it’s way back up to your throat. “Don’t you want to please your King?”

Dear GOD where had this side of him come from? He shifted the slightest bit so his pants ran against you.

“Ben!” Your eyes squeezed shut, brain foggy with him.

“Are you really making me wait?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as yours shifted to where your shaking hands were now trying to undo his belt buckle.

As you worked to free him from his pants, Ben’s hands found their way back to your hips, slowly pushing up the fabric of his dress shirt so he could see what was lying underneath.

His mouth almost watered as the white lace was brought into view. He licked his lips at what the fabric was trying in vain at hiding.

Ben had to remind himself that you were not being rewarded now. That you’d disobeyed him at dinner and now was not the time to be relishing in how lovely you were.

He was brought out of his thoughts as your hand slid into his boxers.

He threw his head back and muttered a barely audible,

“Fuck.”

As your fingers wrapped around him, timidly moving up and down.

He looked at you, so focused on what you were doing, so desperate to make him feel good, needing to hear his words of praise. Ben guided you to straddle one leg as he began to rock his hips into your hand.

You were so trained on pleasing your fiancé, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d begun grinding on his thigh.

Ben had noticed. He watched as your breathing became more rapid and how your strokes became less careful. You looked up, meeting his gaze, sucking in a breath at the primal look in his eyes.

His eyes flashed with pleasure as your thumb ran over the tip of his cock. His fingers stopped your hips and he said,

“Stop.” Right as you were about to come. You did as you were told but you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the lack of sensation.

Ben rolled his eyes, the hands on your hips forcing you to grind into his leg once again. You moan, tossing your head back to avoid looking at him. The fucker was edging you.

“So Goddamn needy.” His hot touch on your skin was gone and you had to steady your breathing before looking at him again.

Ben had begun to unbutton the rest of your shirt, pushing it off of your shoulders once it was fully undone. He shamelessly raked his eyes over your body, grinning that evil grin as he did so.

Then, his hands were under your bottom, picking you up before setting you down on the bed.

“Are you going to behave now?” The dampening of your underwear at his words is embarrassing. Ben’s thumbs skim over your abdomen, right on the waistband of your underwear. Ben doesn’t break eye contact with you, smiling once again. He looks hot as hell, his fangs and the beard along with his crown.

Was he going to fuck you while wearing his crown? God you hoped so.

“Honey?” Ben lowered to his knees, fingers now on the sides of the lace fabric. You instinctively close your legs but Ben’s strong hands are there instantly, forcing them back open.

Embarrassment floods your system as you watch him look down, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face before his eyes return to yours.

“Keep them open.” His fingers dance dangerously close to the damp lace. “Answer my question, please.”

He’s so close that you can feel his breath fanning your core.

“Yes, Ben. Fuck! I’ll behave.” He kisses your inner thighs which are now practically shaking in his grasp. His mouth moves to your hips, right where your waistband is.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“What?” You sound breathless.

He looks directly into your eyes.

“I’ve been able to smell you this entire time.”

You’re too late to react as Ben rips through the white lace with his teeth. His hands are keeping your thighs to the side and he looks at you for a moment: A shaking little mess before him, your cunt dripping and clenching around nothing. You watch as he smiles again, bracing yourself for the contact of his tongue, lips, and teeth.

His tongue licks your glistening cunt from the bottom up twice and your hand clamps over your mouth when his lips wrap around your aching clit.

And then.

Oh, fuck.

You’d forgotten about his facial hair.

The delicious roughness contrasting with his sweet mouth made the pleasure skyrocket.

Ben loved the taste of you. He was never able to get enough. So anytime he went down on you, he took all he could get. He moaned at the taste of you, the vibrations going straight through you.

Your hips lifted off of the bed as one of his hands moved off of your thigh and a thumb pressed hard against your swollen clit. At the same time, Ben bit into the soft skin of your thighs, marking his territory. He repeated his actions on the other side, now rolling your clit between his fingers.

If you weren’t covering your mouth, you were sure the whole castle would be able to hear you.

Ben’s mouth returned and you let out a scream as his teeth bit your clit gently. He let his tongue swirl around it as his thumb ran down your slit, parting your folds, exposing more of you to the cool air. He moved the slightest bit and the roughness of his mustache brushed against your clit, sending you into your awaiting orgasm.

Ben continued devouring you through it, eating you out like a beast, already wanting to get another one out of you like this. He looked up at you, realizing he hadn’t been able to hear you, eyes narrowing once again at the hand over your mouth. Your hips rocked again as he slid his middle finger into you easily but then he stopped all of his actions.

Your grown was muffled but one look from Ben and your hand fell to the side.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of being too loud…” his finger curled inside you and you let out a loud moan, a blush settling over your cheeks instantly. “…because I don’t care if anyone hears. They’ll know how good the king is fucking you, right?” His mouth was on yours again, finger pushing in and out of you slowly. Your hips jerk up and you moan into his mouth, making him smile into yours.

Ben pulls away, making you groan in frustration. As you sit up on your elbows, you watch as Ben steps away from the bed to undress and you know he's doing it slowly on purpose.

"Ben-"

“Shut up. You brought this on yourself, honey.”

Once again, your cheeks heat. His harsh glare makes your heart pound.

His eyes tear away from yours as he finishes undressing. Yours close, waiting for what's next half in anxiousness, half in eagerness. His warm hand on your knee snaps you out of your thoughts.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip before he brings it between his teeth. He pulls your body down and steps between your legs. Ben's hand settles on your neck again, smirking at the feeling of your racing pulse.

"Don't tell me you're nervous, sweetheart." You take a deep breath before looking into his eyes with a smirk of your own.

"Why would I be nervous if this is what I wanted?" His jaw sets as the smirk disappears.

And then under his breath,

"Such a fucking brat." Before his hand fully wraps around your throat as he brings his lips to yours.

Your hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders pulling him down on top of you.

You pull away when Ben bites your lip, tasting blood.

"Benjamin!"

His smirk is back.

"Oh, so you're using my full name now. I thought this is what you wanted." You glare at him as you run your tongue along the bite. His head dips as he kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip. You are so enthralled with the feeling of his mouth on yours, you don't register what else he is doing until you feel the head of his cock pushing into you.

You act on instinct, pushing your hips into him but he pulls away.

"Don't be impatient. That stunt you played at dinner was cute and all but-"

"You thought it was cute?" You pout. "I thought you were going to punish me for it, my King."

With that, Ben pushes into you the rest of the way, wrapping his hand around your throat again, silencing any moan trying to escape.

"You were saying?" Your pelvic muscles clench around him which spurs him on further. "What's the matter, my love?" He pulls out of you and puts the slightest bit of pressure on your throat. "You want me to punish you?" He leans in to kiss you again but stops centimeters from your lips. "You asked for it."

Ben kisses you once again, hands now on your hip bones as his hips roll into yours at a brutal pace. Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as he does the dirty work.

Your nails dig into his skin as you near your orgasm, pulling away from his lips as you struggle to catch your breath. Then suddenly, Ben stills inside of you and laughs as you whine.

"Would you like me to keep going?" You nod, although you know he will continue to fuck with you. "Really?" His lips find your neck again, kissing the spot beneath your ear. He grins against your skin at your whine. "Alright."

Ben begins to move ever-so-slowly. Annoyed, you begin to roll your hips into his but he is quick to stop you. His hands press your hips deep into the bed, forcing your movements to stop.

"Ben..." You trail off, eyes closing as Ben continues. He leans back, his beautiful smile gracing his face.

He gradually picks up speed, every movement into you brings you closer to the brink but Ben knows your body well. He's memorized your body and the ways it reacts to his. He knows that when you throw your head backward and try to cover your mouth to subdue the noises you're making that you're close. That's when he knows to stop.

"Fuck, Ben, please." He leans over you again, his beautiful smile still plastered on his beautiful face.

"Please what?" He has the audacity to rub soothing circles on your skin.

"Damnnit Ben." Your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to look him in the eyes. Ben leans over more, his lips brushing against yours.

"Please what, honey?" Your eyes open and narrow at him.

"I already asked Ben..." He chuckles.

"And I'm asking again." He raises his eyebrows. "Now unless you'd like me to," his hips roll again, "continue with your punishment, I suggest you use your words and answer my question."

"Benjamin," You pause briefly, waiting to see if he will stop you and make you use his title, but he doesn't. "Please, please, fuck me."

Ben smirks, making him impossibly more attractive.

"That's all you had to say." His hands grab your thighs, wrapping them around his waist before turning his smirk into a grin.

He moves again and it is glorious. Ben does all the work, which is fine for you because you're too enthralled with the pleasure to do anything about it. His hands tighten on your legs and pull you to him, bringing your bodies impossibly closer. His pace is brutal, fingers most definitely leaving bruises in their wake.

Instead of covering your mouth, your hands wander up his arms and pull him down to you again before resting on his broad shoulders. His crown glints in the light and your eyes roll at the sight. His hand leaves your thigh and reaches between your bodies to pinch your clit. To cover your moan, you pull his lips to yours, releasing it into his mouth. Ben smiles in return, rolling your clit between his fingers.

You break the kiss, gasping for air as your head is thrown back, He takes the opportunity to attack your neck again, his teeth gently biting at the soft skin.

His hips slam into yours once again and it pushes you over the edge. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your body going limp in his arms.

Ben follows not far behind, groaning into your neck.

"Fuck."

After the two of you calm down, he pushes himself back, looking down at you.

"I'm sorry if I went a little overboard. I just-"

"Ben..."

"No seriously I-" You cut him off.

"Benjamin shut up." His eyes widen. You look up at him, a small smile on your lips. He watches with wide eyes as you push yourself up to sit under him. His smirk returns as you wince at the soreness he left you.

"Did you just tell me to-" You cut him off with a kiss, hands pulling his face to yours.

You break away from him and his eyes are wide.

"Ben, if you had gone overboard I would have told you." You kiss him again. "Besides, it's what I wanted." His eyes narrow.

"What?" You giggle, squishing his cheeks together before his hands wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands down. "Y/N, what did you just say?" You fall back onto the bed, laughing.

"I had this whole thing planned out, Bennie Boo." His eyes roll at his ex-girlfriend's nickname for him. "You were stressed and we hadn't..."

"Fucked?" He finishes for you.

"...in weeks, so I put this plan together to help you relieve your stress and so we could..." It's Ben's turn to grin.

"Say it."

"Make me."

His smile drops.

"Oh, you're asking for it now, sweetie." His lips were on yours before you could even think of a clever response.

I'M BACK!!!

bro ive literally been working on this for like 3 months.

:) ENJOY

[daisynik7]

I need more good even agnst

I forgot how to spell🥴

cw: angst, sexually explicit content, language, friends with benefits 

Summary: Eren gets drunk and leaves a voicemail. 

Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thanks for this request! I went in a little different direction for this one. This is inspired by this soundgasm (listener discretion is advised). Seriously, listen to it, you will not regret it. Anyways, hope you like this one! 

Eren stumbles in through the door of his apartment late Friday night. Armin just dropped him off, playing the role of designated driver tonight. They spent the last few hours barhopping, Eren consuming enough alcohol for both of them. To say he’s drunk would be an understatement. Right now, he’s plastered. And that’s probably what leads him to what he does next.

After messily chugging a glass of water, he collapses onto his couch, reaching into his pocket for his phone. Instagram is already open; he clicks on it, glaring at the now familiar photo surrounding the screen. It’s a selfie you posted a few hours ago of you and your new boyfriend, beaming at the camera, the caption reading Date night! 

He huffs, swiping out of the app to access his Favorites. He stares at your contact listed amongst your friends, the crown emoji right next to your name. It’s an inside joke between you two; you’re his “princess”. 

Tapping at the phone, he holds it to his ear, starting. “Hey. It’s me. You’re probably wondering why I’m calling you. To be honest, I’m pretty faded right now.” He giggles, scratching his tummy. “So whatever I’m about to say, blame it on the alcohol.”

He hesitates, taking a deep breath. “Anyways, I saw your pic tonight. The one of you and your new boyfriend.” He pauses to swallow, that last word leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. “I guess you’re officially off the market now. Congrats.”

He twirls a strand of his hair around his finger. “You look really good in that picture, by the way. That dress you’re wearing is one of my favorites because…” he snickers to himself, recalling that specific memory. “Well, you know.”

You wore that same dress the night you and Eren started sleeping together. The two of you got drunk at Mikasa’s birthday party, and you admitted to him how you haven’t had sex in months. He volunteered to change that for you, as long as the two of you only remain friends. At the time, Eren hated the thought of being in some sort of committed relationship. The furthest he was willing to go was friends with benefits, and that’s what the two of you became.

“I bet your new boyfriend doesn’t know how good I fucked you in that dress.” He sucks in a breath, cock throbbing in his pants, face flushed as he speaks. “Is he a better fuck than me? I bet he isn’t. You always go so crazy when I’m inside you.” He palms his erection, squeezing the phone closer to his ear. “Remember when you squirted all over my fucking face that one time? Had that clit swollen and raw on my tongue, that was fucking amazing.” Giggling again, he unzips his pants, sliding his jeans and briefs off, wrapping his fingers around his shaft. 

“I’m sorry I’m like this. I just saw that picture of you tonight and I got so…” he doesn’t finish the rest of the statement. Instead, he strokes his cock, imagining you riding him on the couch the way you do. Slow and sensual at first, rocking your hips on his lap. Gradually picking up the pace, bouncing on his cock, thrusting your ass against him, warm mouth moaning into his ear. That’s his favorite; the couple of seconds right before you come, how high pitched your whimpers get, especially as you breathe out his name. The way you unravel around him, melt into his body, a perfect fit in his arms.  

He pumps his cock fast in his fist, coming quick to the thought of you. Tissues in hand, wiping up his mess, he sighs into the phone. Voice trembling, he asks, “Do you still think about me? I know we kinda stopped hooking up once you met…whatever his name is. And I know we were never exclusive or whatever, but…” He gulps loudly, nervous for what he’s about to admit. “I miss you.”

This is what he wanted. What he asked for. Friends with benefits, no strings attached. He made that clear from the beginning, and you agreed to it, no problem. When did it all start to get so muddled? Was it when he realized being with you was way more fun than being with his friends? Being alone?

He remembers that night on the balcony. It was his birthday, and he was having a small gathering at his place. The two of you went outside for some air and alone time. It was a normal conversation, but somewhere in the middle, you said something that stuck with him. I hope you’re happy.

He clicks his tongue, deciding to let it all out. “It should be us, y’know. You and me. Not you and him. It’s my own fault it didn’t end up this way. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you I love you. Too much of a coward to admit it to myself.”

“Anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore since you’re with somebody else now. I don’t want you to listen to this and feel sorry for me. It’s not your fault at all, and I’ll be okay. I just wanted you to know how I feel about you. And if he ever breaks your heart or hurts you in any way, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll fucking kick his ass if you want me to. I’ll always be here for you.”

After another deep breath, he ends the call with his parting words. “I hope you’re happy, princess. I really do.”

He takes his phone away from his ear, staring at the screen, still stuck on his Favorites list. He checks the call log and notices that the call never even went through. With a heavy sigh, both relieved and disappointed, he sets his phone down on the coffee table, leaving it as he shuffles towards his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

[faeriichaii]

It’s so cold and I’m already over it and crave summer! Could you do lotr/hobbit boys (specifically fili but I’m open to others) with a mermaid!reader who’s just so curious about the land above like Ariel and loves to share her collection of land walker trinkets she found? Thanks muah 🫶

Part of Your World ~ Line of Durin x Mermaid!Reader

A/N: Honestly same, I miss spring and summer :( It just started snowing again and I'm like hello?? It's too cold?? I really really love that idea omg and I'm so happy to get a request for Fili <33!! I just think I will do like the line of Durin kinda thing so each of them get a short story with a mermaid!reader~ Ngl I really struggled to come up with things that the reader could find and what she thinks it could be used for- But in the end I think it turned alright :) I hope you will like the story! Also I'm sorry that Thorins and Kilis are a little bit shorter😔😔

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff, fluff and fluff :) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.8k (Thorin: 472, Fili: 843, Kili: 545) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ

⇢ ˗ˏˋAmrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ‘lbinê ~ My Jewel ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋHalw Kurdu ~ Sweet Heart ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋGaihith ~ Little Dove ࿐ྂ

Summary: Little mermaid you finds various little trinkets and things in the waters around Erebor and you can't wait to share them with your s/o.

Thorin:

You waved at Balin with a wide smile on your face, as you were walking through the palace to find your soon-to-be-husband. You just came back from a wonderful swim by the riverbank, where you found a little trinket that you can’t wait to show him. You have been enjoying yourself earlier, splashing around and swimming with various different fish, as something very shiny caught your interest. You swam down towards it and carefully pulled it out of the sand. It was a big round silver band, that almost looked like an enormous ring. You smiled down at your find as you returned to the riverbank and let yourself dry off. While waiting for you to completely dry and get your fish tail exchanged for your legs, your eyes focused on the intricate thing in your hands.

The big round thing was formed with immaculate detail, various different flourishes made up the entire silver ring. In the middle of all the silver designs, was a white jewel. The same jewels were also placed a little more on the left, as well as on the right side. A smile spread across your face at the beauty of the item you found. Now you were walking through the castle, mysterious item in hand and trying to find Thorin. You opened the door of the library. Thorins back was facing you, as he looked through several scrolls that were scattered around the table. “Amrâlimé, I have found a new treasure! It is the most beautiful thing I have ever found, but I don’t know what it is used for.” The endearment that passed your lips was the first word Thorin ever taught you. And ever since then, you have been calling him by that. The king stopped working his hands through the scrolls and instead focused all of his attention on you. “What did you find my Queen?”

He approached you, giving you a gentle smile. You put the item in your hands in his outstretched one. Letting one of his thumbs run over the details, he slowly placed it on top of your head. His finger ran over one of the braids he did, until they laid softly against your cheek. “Do you know what it is?” Shaking your head no, you leaned into the touch of his warm palm on your face. “It is a tiara Amrâlimé. It is very similar to the crown I am wearing. And the one you will be wearing very soon.” A smile spread across your lips. Leaning in towards Thorin you gave him a kiss, which he quickly reciprocated. “I think this is one of the most beautiful treasures I have found yet.” At that, the king shook his head, still holding you close to him. “You are the greatest treasure to walk this earth ‘lbinê.”

Fili:

Water dripped down your tail, as you sat on a stone in the middle of the lake. It has been days since you had the chance to take a quick dive into the waters, craving to feel the waves and ripples all over your body as you take a dive. Plus, the constant walking on your newly attained feet and legs was exhausting. You begged and pleaded with Fili to talk his uncle into finding a stream and taking a break close by. After around the tenth time of Fili approaching Thorin, the king had enough and took upon searching for some kind of water source. It didn’t take long until they found a river and decided to put up camp close by. The first thing you did of course was take a swim and now you are perched on top of a stone, combing through your hair with your hands. Letting out a few soft tunes of a song you have learned long ago, your eyes locked onto something that was glistening in the water. Tilting your head, you squinted your eyes at it to take a better look.

Not being able to figure out what it was you decided to jump off of the stone and into the water. Gently flicking your tail around, you quickly approached the unidentified item. Your hair was floating around you as your fingers gently took a hold of the long gold string that was stuck between some stones. Pushing them aside, you freed the item. Tilting your head in curiosity, you gave the item you freed a quick look before breaking through the water and sitting down on the riverbank. Your fingers softly brushed against it. It felt cold and smooth beneath the pads of your fingers. Footsteps approached you, as you sat there with your tail still pacing from side to side in the water, creating some tiny waves.

“I see, I need to redo your braid once you’re out of the water.” Fili said as he sat down beside you, letting his feet also dangle into the water. “Fili look what I have found!” You exclaimed with glee, shoving the string with a gold heart attached to it into his face. His gaze flickered from your capturing eyes to the item in your hand that you proudly held out for him to look at. “Ah, do you know what it is Halw Kurdu?” He asked you with a smile on his lips. “Mhh not yet… I’m still trying to figure it out.” A design of a flower with swirls was etched into the golden heart that hung loose on the chain. “Is it maybe… something for the braids you teach me all the time?” You smile at him while trying to weave the item into your semi dry hair.  A chuckle left Filis lips. “No, it definitely does not belong into your hair. What else could it be?” You pondered for a moment after Fili revealed to you that you were wrong. Seconds pass as you look at the shiny thing in your hand. “Ah! It could be a weapon! Like the slingshot you once showed me!” Taking a pebble that was laying by your side, you put it on the heart and tried to shoot Fili, however the small stone just fell out of your hand and into the water with a little 'plop'.

Laughing heartedly, the man beside you clung onto his stomach, making you pout sadly. After a few seconds he composed himself and stood up. “Don’t worry Amrâlimê, I will show you what this is.” He took the thing from your hands and kneeled behind you. “Lift your hair up for me.” You did what he asked for. His hands snaked to the front of your neck, laying down the golden heart you fished out. “All done.” Fili sat down once more, looking at the golden heart that shone in the sun. You put your fingers over it softly. “It is a necklace. And it really looks beautiful on you.” His gentle smiled made your heart fill with warmth. “I think you can even…” He grabbed onto the locket and opened it. A soft gasp escaped you. “I can store things in this tiny necklace?” You asked him excitedly. Fili put a hand atop of your head, before letting it travel to the back of your neck. “I mean you could store like a drawing of me in there. Or maybe even a tiny drawing of the both of us together.” A smile graced your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “I love that idea. And I love you Fili. Thank you for showing me another new thing from your world.” A chuckle left his lips as he gave you a soft peck on the top of your head, his beard tickling you gently. “It’s not just my world anymore. It is our world now Amrâlimê.”

Kili:

Awful sounds were coming from your shared room within the palace. A hollow wooden item was laying on your lap. Four thick silver strings were attached from the bottom of the wood, over to the top of it. Silver round nubs were securely screwed into the strangely formed top, keeping the strings in place. The middle of the wooden box had two flourishes, one on each side. You pulled on one of the strings, realizing that a strange sound came from the item. A bright smile spread over your face, as you pulled on the string once more. Turning the nubs, you noticed that the strings suddenly produced a different sound. You softly giggled as you continued to run your fingers over the strings.

“Gaihith, what is this awful melody?” Kili asks, as he walks into the room, his hands covering his ears. His gaze was locked onto your mesmerizing eyes until he heard that he apparently got closer to the source of his disdain. “So, you are the source for the awful music? And I thought mermaids were supposed to be exceptional when it comes to singing.” You pouted at his words as you lifted the wooden item from your lap. “I went for a swim earlier this morning and I found this in the waters. I thought that maybe if I pull on the strings it opens up or something.” Kili sat down beside you on the bed and gently took the item from your hand. “You really don’t have a clue what this is?” “Well, if I would know what it is, I would probably know how to properly use it now, wouldn’t I?” He chuckled at your snippy remark, laying his hand on your thigh.

“Should I show you what it is?”  You nodded softly, as you got lost in his loving gaze. Kili pulled the item towards his shoulder and lay his head somewhat on top of it. “Did you perhaps also find something else with the violin?” “Violin?” You asked, tilting your head to the side at the strange word. “This is a violin Amrâlimê. Normally you would use a violin bow to properly play any tunes on it.” A soft ‘ah’ escaped your lips. “No, I just found the violin.” Kili nodded at that, stood up and got the violin bow from his own instrument. He once pulled the bow over the silver strings and shuddered at the god-awful sound he just produced. Strumming the instrument, he played a few wonderful sounds.

Your smile widened at the beautiful melodies as you softly hummed to the tune. “Wow this sounds so beautiful Kili! I really love it!” You hugged him tightly, after he finished his little ministration with the instrument. He put the item beside you on the bed and reciprocated the loving embrace. A soft kiss was placed on the top of your head, that made you look up. You returned the gesture by giving him a quick peck on the lips. “We could start performing together. You play the violin and I will sing my mermaid songs to the people of Erebor.” A chuckle left his lips as he put a hand on your cheek and kissed you once more. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

i assume you'll be coming for blood (that makes two of us)

Chapter 4

Ao3 | 1.6k words | Sweetheart's POV

The trail gets hot. Sweetheart finds something. They steal themself for what comes next.

TW: dead body, blood, dead parent, could be construed as MCD

Hey, Dad. Just checking in. 

Hey kiddo! It’s been a few weeks. Honestly, I was starting to get worried. 

Sorry. Work. I’ve been busy. 

But safe, right?

Yeah.

Because you promised me you would be when you took this job.

I know, Dad. I promise I can handle whatever DUMP throws at me. 

So could your mother.

Dad. 

I’m sorry. I just worry. You got her strength and tenacity, but you also got her bullheadedness. And I’m sorry to say that’s what got her killed. I worry because I know you won’t reach out for help when you need it.

Then what do you call this?

Do you need help? Kiddo, if you’re in trouble, just say the word. I will DESCEND!!

I’m fine, Dad. Just wanted to say I love you.

You locked your phone before his frantic typing could culminate into a panicked reply and pointedly ignored the insistent buzz of your phone in your coat pocket. That had been more of a tell than you’d intended, but the thought of walking into this kind of trouble without telling him made your throat close with grief. You didn’t say ‘I love you’ often, and you didn’t say it without reason. 

Your mom used to say it liberally. She said it when she woke you up for school in the morning, when tucking you into bed, when you made her laugh, when you broke her heart. She had a lot of late nights, and you never slept when she was away. You would pretend to when she snuck into your room in the wee hours of the night or morning. She would bend over you, smelling like sweat and blood and expended magic. You stayed still and silent as she pressed her thin, shaking lips to the crown of your head and whispered it into you;

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” 

Like a promise. Like a prayer. 

Your chest ached with the absence of her. 

By the time you found it again, the shade had become fully corporeal. Dahlia was a great town for it, full of powerful, magical people, and stupid, stupid college kids who would brush off its after effects as a bad hangover. 

It was actually a rather clever method, how you found it. You got access to D.A.M.N.’s clinic records through less than legal means, thanks to a friend of a friend who didn’t ask questions when fifty bucks were involved. You tracked the shade’s effects through a half dozen students, found a few of them who also folded at the offer of another fifty bucks and found out their frequent haunts. You formed a geo profile (something you’d learned in the Academy but had never had occasion to use, much less with a proper paper map and pins) and triangulated an area where the shade was most likely to be. 

Now, you had an area of about three city blocks to patrol, you were dodging non-stop calls from both your father and Jet, and you were flat broke from all of your very illegal bribes. 

You were considering becoming a private eye. If this was how effective you were with no oversight, you’d have finished this case up in a matter of days. 

Although, you weren’t actually sure how many days it had been. You weren’t exactly sleeping regularly. 

When you cornered it, it was in a little park just off of college town. It was barely a park, really, more of a very large median. It was a stretch of poorly maintained grass, a smattering of small, young trees, and exactly three benches. On one of said benches, there was a crumpled form, curled over one of the arm rests of hostile design, obscured by layers and layers of ratty clothing. When you spotted them, you cloaked without even thinking. Your magic fell over you like a blanket and smothered out a handful of the sensory indicators around you. That was the downside of cloaking, afterall. Your senses weren’t entirely stolen, just dampened. But in your line of work, that could be the difference between life and death. 

The closer you got, the more you convinced yourself that the figure was just someone trying to sleep in a dry, semi safe place. The rounded armrests that cut up the bench were designed to deter this, but something digging into you only worked so long when you were bone tired. You didn’t think it would do much to you at the moment. 

You placed one hand on their shoulder and slowly, as though not to startle them, rolled it back to reveal their face and chest. 

He wasn’t sleeping. You knew as soon as you saw his skin, dewy and gray, that he was dead. Two, ratty jackets pulled back to reveal a slim frame and a drawn, boyish face. As you disturbed him, his body let loose the torrent of blood that his crumpled rib cage was holding in. It spilled, still hot, over your shoes. 

He was young. Barely eighteen, if that. Thick glasses, dusty hair, a smattering of freckles across his nose. Everything he had on him was packed into a well-loved, bright green Jansport backpack. He was a kid, just a kid. 

He had been empowered. You didn’t know how you knew, but you did. It was some sort of absence, you thought, some emptiness where he had once been so full. Your threads strummed uneasily towards him, but found no reply. 

He looked so small, curled in on himself on that park bench. 

Your mom had looked small too. She was an exceedingly lively woman, and a fire elemental so powerful that she had struggled to contain her heat even when not impacted by her emotions. Her aura felt visible at times, tangible, like you could wrap your chubby toddler fingers around her power and pull.

It was a closed-casket funeral. The shifter that had killed her very nearly tore her apart. Your father had her buried in a white button up, slacks, something your older brother had snagged from her closet without thinking. You figured that your dad wanted it over with, wanted her in the ground. He had to identify the body. You remembered sitting in the waiting room while he went in to see her. You could hear his wails through the walls. You’d be surprised if anybody in the hospital, anybody in Dahlia, anybody in the world was saved from his screams. 

The doctors did everything medically possible, but there was only so much one could do to make such a mangled corpse look normal, look human. There were thick, medical staples stitching her demure features into another face entirely, lopsided and strange. You had stared at her in the visitation room, tearless, for half an hour before some well-meaning relative or another pulled you away. Your brother and sister had refused to look at her, your father couldn’t stop sobbing long enough to do it, but you couldn’t look away. There was something enticing about it, looking at her and trying to find all of the bits that were missing, to decipher the riddle of her glued-shut eyelids, the hollow, serene pose of her always moving, always working body. There was something powerful about her. Even her corpse held an echo of it. 

You numbly retrieved your phone from your coat pocket and found Jet’s contact. He answered on the first ring and let out a string of protests and admonishments that he must have started long before your call came through, judging by the hoarse quality of his voice. 

“I’ve got a body.” You said, reported. The Investigator overstock you, forcing out the emotion that threatened to topple you and replacing it with the familiar cadence of your crisis training. You felt for his pulse, found nothing. You sent a static shock of magic into him to see if pain or stimulus would rouse him. It did not. 

“What are you talking about?” Jet snapped. “You need-” 

“I’m in the park off Jackson.” You interrupted. “I’ve got a body. Slashed, but not a shifter.” You knew what it looked like when a shifter killed. “I need a unit out here immediately. The shade is corporeal.”

“Investigator,” Jet balked, “you are not cleared for duty. Dr. Collins is calling for a psych eval. Do not tell me you’re still working your case.” 

“Well, I don’t like to lie to superiors.” You sighed. You stood and forced yourself to turn away from the kid- the body, you reminded yourself- taking in your surroundings. It was dark. Shades could hide in the shadows nearly as well as you could. You re-upped cloak, let your magic ripple through your clothes, your phone, muffle the sound of your voice and heartbeat. “Regardless of my clearance, this thing has killed and I intend to finish my work.”

“You’re in over your head.” Jet snapped. “And if you don’t disengage and report back to HQ immediately-”

“Jet, I’m in the heart of college town right now!” you seethed through gritted teeth, “If I leave it, it’s going to cut down a dozen college students before anybody bothers to deal with it. Send backup or don’t. I’m not letting it kill anybody else.” 

You were shaking with rage or panic, which you didn’t know. You turned on your heel, towards the scant tree line, and started walking. The only evidence of you was the bloody footprints you left in the grass. 

You pulled up Milo’s contact in your phone. You typed out your dad’s phone number and sent it without allowing yourself to overthink it. 

That’s my dad’s number. If anybody happens to me, please don’t let him be the one to identify my body. 

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket and turned your mind towards the matter at hand.

[persphonesorchid]

Mark Of The Arcane || Chapter Four ||

↣ Summary; Centuries before, in the times of the ancient Kings, a prophecy was heard. When the three kingdoms of Valerem fall to ruins, their saviour would come in blinding starlight. Who is this saviour, you may ask? None other than Min Yoongi, who was too busy being late to work to realize he definitely wasn’t on earth anymore.

↣ Part: Chapter Four; Lessons in History

↣Word count: 6.8k

↣Warnings: Yoongi and his anxiety, Seokjin is a little prickly.

Chapter Archive | Masterlist

Notes: Hello all! Welcome back to MOTA! I'm so sorry about the wait, writing this fic is a lot lol. There's so much to describe and so much to get done. From here on out the chapters will be much longer than the previous ones, as I don't want the series to drag out too much and it's not meant to be a long series anyway. So I'll try my best to get as much into a chapter before moving on. Things are s little slow right now, but i promise the exciting stuff will start soon! I really hope you all enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated and encouraged! Let me know what you think!

Yoongi follows behind Seokjin, gazing around at the difference of the hallway as he does. Earlier, the opposite side of the wall mirrored the side he came out of; a line of mahogany doors as far as he could see.

Now where the doors were, are windows in intervals. Tall arched panes of glass stained blue at the tops, and through them he could just make out the edge of a town far away and below. It’s mostly forest he could see, the tops of tall green trees and birds with strange long tails darting about to settle as the sun drags the moon into the sky.

The walls are greystone, and within the spaces between each window held a navy blue banner that comes halfway down the wall. The crest at the center is intricate; a mix of a lighter blue and gold, a golden sword spears downward into a crown near the hilt of the blade. Just below the crown is what Yoongi would describe as a fancy snowflake, surrounded by little wisps of small golden patterns, and wings sprouting at the sword's end. It’s all surrounded by blue and golden leaves that follow the upward arch of the wings.

It’s an enlarged version of the crested clasp of his cloak.

He hadn’t realized he stopped to stare at it until Seokjin whistled at him from further up the hallway. He jogs a little to meet him.

“They’re designed to confuse.” Seokjin says as Yoongi falls in step with him.

“Huh?”

“The hallway was different when you first came out, right?” Seokjin glances at him and then waves a hand at the wall. “They’re imbued with magic. A precaution His Majesty took years ago in case of a siege from outside forces. You’re not a threat, so it looks as normal as it does to everyone else.”

Yoongi isn’t sure if that’s an insult or not, being called non threatening. To Seokjin though, he’s certain he looks like a newborn foal trying to take his first steps into a world he doesn’t understand. So, he supposes it’s not an incorrect word choice.

Seokjin leads him through a door, and down another hallway. Unlike the hallway before, this one was teeming with people.

It’s mostly women, bustling around, some carrying what Yoongi assumes to be cleaning supplies, others pushing little carts with silver trays and platters. Most of them barely pay him mind, but stop briefly to incline their heads at Seokjin. They’re all wearing white and something blue: one girl that looked like she should be sitting in a classroom wizzes by, a navy blue ribbon tied into her frizzy hair; another with a blue armband calling after her.

The chatter of that hallway fades once it’s behind another closed door, and Yoongi follows Seokjin down a flight of spiral stairs.

“I’m taking you to Hoseok, do try to remember the way. I won’t be around to show you every time.” Seokjin’s words are a little clipped and Yoongi gets the feeling he doesn’t like him very much. He doesn’t want to be here anyway, much less be up in anyone’s hair causing issues.

He’s not too certain what Seokjin is, and finds himself staring at his ears rather than actually memorizing directions. He asked if he was an elf and he was offended, he’s not sure what else he’s supposed to think.

Seokjin stops at a door and knocks twice before pushing it open. The first thing Yoongi notices is how clean it smells. It burns his nose a little as he walks in, looking around at what clearly is a medical room.

There’s two shelves against the wall, one filled with thick tomes, and the other stacked with bottled things. Off to the left is a curtained area, and on the wall, charts of anatomy and other things that Yoongi couldn’t make sense of.

There’s another door on the far right of the room, closed with a little plaque that says ‘Private’ in small bold letters. Tucked near the wall is a desk, more books arranged neatly in a pile, papers under a bottle of something or the other to keep them there.

The door opens and Hoseok steps through it, still wearing his white coat and startled seeing Yoongi and Seokjin there.

“Oh – you guys scared me.” He presses a hand to his chest, “Jin, you haven’t seen Yoselin, have you? I’m afraid I may have upset her...”

“She’s still trying to get you to mentor her?”

Hoseok sighs, “She doesn’t have the affinity for it, but she’s stubborn. And with her sister being one of my students it’s made her feel left out.”

“She’ll come to... I’ve brought him for you.” He gestures to Yoongi, and turns on his heel to leave, “Oh, show him the way back please, I’ve got other things to get done before late.”

Hoseok waves him off with a hand and then he was gone.

“You don’t look so out of place anymore,” Hoseok smiles, “Take your cloak off and then you can get settled over there for me.”

Yoongi does as he’s told and takes his cloak off, shuffling over to the curtained area. He pulls the curtain back and there’s a bed that resembles a hospital bed where he came from. There’s hinges on the sides that make it so that the bed can be adjusted, and Yoongi sits on the end of it while Hoseok gathers some things from his desk.

He comes over not long after, holding a strange glass ball that glows a pale green. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright...” Yoongi mutters and Hoseok hums.

“Headache?”

“Gone.” Though, even as he says this, Yoongi could feel it at his temples, just not bad enough to be a bother.

“Stay very still.” Hoseok says, lifting his hand with the glass ball to Yoongi’s forehead, checks something, and then presses it against his chest. There’s a warm sort of feeling coming from it that he could feel even through his shirt. “Okay...”

Hoseok moves away briefly, walking back to his desk and sets the ball down. Yoongi watches in amazement as it floats a little above the surface of the table top. “Uh...what is that exactly?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s an essence meter. It measures your arcane magic intake levels.” He comes back over with a book, it’s thick and has little colorful page markers sticking out of the pages. “So far, you’re stable. But it can fluctuate as your body gets used to it, so if you feel sick you need to tell me.”

Yoongi nods, rubbing his hands along his thighs. He’s still so confused about everything, but he’s trying his best to take it as it comes and not dwell on it too much. Hoseok settles on a chair, sitting a little lower than Yoongi is, opening the book to a page and pulls a black feather quill out of an inside pocket of his coat.

“I’m going to ask you a few things, just procedure, don’t worry. Then you’re free to go.”

Hoseok asks him basic medical questions, and jots it all down in his book. It didn't take too long, and soon he was handing him a glass vial no longer than his index finger. The little things inside tink softly against the glass, they look like dried pieces of root, a reddish brown color.

“If you get any more headaches, you can put one of these in hot water. It’s what I gave you earlier.”

Yoongi grimaces at the memory, a phantom bitterness at the back of his throat. He nods, tucking the vial away into the pocket of his pants.

“Try to get as much rest as possible, too. Your body has to regulate your magic intake. You can come back every three days so I can see how it’s going.”

Hoseok ushers him to the door, patting his shoulder softly, “Oh, and don’t worry about Seokjin. He’ll warm up to you.” He opens the door and Yoongi almost walks right into another person.

The young man takes a stumbling step back as though Yoongi had bumped into him, and he almost reaches out to steady him. He does so himself, pressing a hand against the door frame and side steps so Yoongi could pass.

He looks a little sickly, dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days, and his cheeks blotchy. He offers Yoongi a kind smile regardless.

“Ah, Taehyung...I was just coming to get you. You don’t have to walk all the way here, you know.” Hoseok says, and as Yoongi steps out, Taehyung steps into the room and the door falls shut.

Yoongi thinks he could manage getting himself back to his room. He refastens the clasp of his cloak and retraces his steps. Back up the spiral staircase and into the hallway, luckily finding the right door, to the hallway filled with people still bustling around, Yoongi can only assume that they’re the servants of this place. As much as that thought throws him for a loop, these people look happy as they move about doing their tasks.

While no one had spared him a glance when he walked through here earlier with Seokjin, everyone he passes by pauses minutely to stare. He keeps his head down and tries his best to make it through without being in anyone’s way.

Night had fully fallen, and the scones embedded into the walls had been lit, casting a warm glow along every surface.

“Your Highness, please. The King will have me hanging by my toes in the courtyard.” A short, plump woman steps out of a door, and Yoongi stops just before he could run into her. Her hair is dark, held tightly at the top of her head in the neatest bun Yoongi’s ever seen. There’s a small towel slung over her shoulder, another hanging from the pocket of her navy blue apron.

You’re trailing behind her, both your hands on her shoulders and a bright, broad smile on your face. You step with her, clinging to her back like a baby monkey.

“He’ll do no such thing.” You laugh, and you press a kiss to her rosy cheek, “Please, Esther. If you do this for me, I’ll love you forever.”

Esther swats at you with her towel, pursing her lips. “You say that every time you little Lumispore.” She says shaking her head before sighing resolutely when you bat your eyelashes at her, “Alright, alright. Now, go on, some of us have work to do.”

“Thank you! I’m forever in your debt, my lady.” You tug at the skirts of your silk dress and curtsy, laughing as you pull back when Esther swings her towel at you again.

Esther turns and Yoongi steps aside, but her dark eyes are pinned on him and she tuts, “You’re the new lad? Goodness, you're skin and bones!”

She squeezes gently at Yoongi’s arms and he feels heat rise to his cheeks, “I’ll tell Wooyoung to make sure you get hearty meals... put some meat on you.” She shakes her head, and pats his cheek softly, “Don’t worry child, you’re in good hands.”

She smiles, a twinkle in her eyes before she’s going up the hall, “Rina, you know very well where those go!”

“Sorry about her, she’s a mother hen.” You say softly, smiling, “I hope she didn’t offend you?”

“Oh, no. No, she’s fine.” He’ll probably admit it out loud later, but it’s nice to have someone worry about him. She reminds him of Mrs Li, waddling off and chatting with the younger servants.

“Did you visit Hoseok?” You’re walking in the direction he’s heading and Yoongi’s not sure if it’s okay to walk in step with you, so he walks a couple behind, but still close enough to hear you. “How is your magic intake?”

“Hoseok says that it’s stable for now...” He watches as you wave off everyone that stops to bow or curtsy. You’re quite quick on your feet, and Yoongi’s somewhat glad to see that you’re wearing shoes this time. Even with the amount of people walking about, he could feel a cold draft coming through the slightly cracked windows.

“That’s good, an overflow of magic can be dangerous.” You nod to yourself, reaching the door at the beginning of the hallway and pushing it open with a hand.

“Do you know a lot about it?”

“Magic? Or, do you mean healing?” You chuckle, holding the door open until he steps through. “Healing was part of my studies. As for magic, everyone knows a lot about it.” You shrug a shoulder, and then look behind you.

“Oh, you don’t have to walk so far behind me.” You stop walking and wait until Yoongi steps where you’ve stopped before you fall into step with him. “I’m not that kind of royal.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, don’t apologize.”

Yoongi’s back to thinking that maybe he really did get drugged and stepped into some sort of weird lucid dream. He’s never paid much mind to fairytales, or Princesses for that matter, but you’re surely acting like one. Though, he’s read stories where royals are absolute assholes, and he supposes he may have expected a bit of that. A holier than thou attitude.

Back where he comes from, he’s sure you’re the type of princess that ends up in a Disney movie; beautiful and empowering and encouraging young girls to be kind.

“Hobi said where you came from doesn’t have magic.” You say softly, turning your head to look at him, “What’s it like?”

“Well...” Yoongi wouldn’t say there isn’t any magic where he came from. People find magic in all sorts of things, like first snows or four leaf clovers. People find magic in other people, children find magic in Christmas. But this place is different, magic in a literal sense, and if he thinks about it too much he’ll have another headache. “It’s nothing like this.”

“Must be strange...being here, I mean.”

“You have no idea.”

You’ve led him back to the hallway where his room is, quiet for a moment. “Oh! Right. You’ll need to learn how to properly control your arcane and be able to use it.”

“Um...” Yoongi feels a dull twinge of pain where his arcane sits. He has no idea how he’ll start to understand how to do that.

“Don’t look so frightened.” You chuckle softly, “I’ll be teaching you. And we won’t start right away, your magic intake would be a little weird for a while so it’s safer for everyone that we don’t attempt anything.”

Yoongi only nods, standing now, a little awkwardly.

“Are you hungry? I can have dinner brought to you.” You ask softly. He isn’t , but he doesn’t want to be rude by declining.

“I’d invite you to the dining hall but I think that would be too much for you right now.” You say, “And my father is a bit...” You shake your head, smiling again, although it seems a bit tense, “Go in, I’ll be right back.”

You step past him, going down a different hall than the one you’d both come from and Yoongi steps back into his room. He takes his cloak off, hanging the thick material on a hook near the door with a sigh. His eyes land on the book he left on the nightstand, walking over to sit on the bed.

He’d have to resign himself to not getting home any time soon. It’s better if he accepts it and moves forward as nothing could be done at the moment. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, suddenly thrust into this world with a prophecy over his head. It’s almost too much.

Yoongi is accustomed to just billowing through life, trying to move with the world lest it move on without him. It was easy, growing up in an orphanage and struggling to get by with the little he had. He’s never blamed his parents – whoever they are – for giving him up, he was fine without a mother’s comfort and a father’s guidance. He didn’t have anyone to make proud or anyone’s shoes to fill. It makes sense now, somewhat.

He feels like a kid who’s dressed in his father’s clothes pretending to be a man. Like someone put a pair of shoes at his feet and told him to wear them even if they’re too big for him. The weight of this world feels heavy on his shoulders, as though he’s an ant trying to lift a building.

How is he supposed to go along and be this savior everyone expects him to be? He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to be saving them from. Some form of darkness that hasn’t been seen in centuries?

Being sent here would be no problem without all this extra shit on top of it.

Yoongi presses his fingers against the spot on his ribs where his arcane mark sits. He’s never complained about his life being ordinary, completely okay with nothing exciting happening. So of course this happens.

He’s thinking too much.

Just as he lays back into the soft linen sheets, there’s a knock on his door. It opens just a bit and your head pops through the gap. Yoongi sits back up as you open the door wider and wheeled in a silver cart before you.

“Hoseok said it’s okay for you to eat something heavier now.” You say, pushing the door closed, “I didn’t know what you’d like so I brought a bit of everything.”

You push the cart over, there’s two covered silver trays and two tall glasses filled with what Yoongi hopes is just water.

You uncover the first tray and there’s a plate of steamed potatoes, braised beef and sautéed carrots and what he would call broccoli if the little tree type things weren’t purple. There’s a little bowl with a fluffy looking pastry with a dollop of pinkish cream in the dipped center, another bowl with short grain rice garnished with something red and flaky and a smaller plate with two filets of fried fish.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ate with you?” You ask, uncovering the other tray that had a spread that mirrors his own.

“I don’t...”

You smile, reaching down to the other compartment of the cart, handing him utensils wrapped in soft blue cloth. You move away for a bit, and stare at the table tucked against the wall in the corner of the room with a hand on your hip and then back at the cart. Catching your train of thought, Yoongi gets up and pushes the cart over.

“Oh! I would’ve done it.”

“It’s alright.” He could push a cart, darn it. He feels like he’s being coddled, by a Princess no less. He doesn’t need to feel like he can’t do anything on top of everything else. He sets the plates, bowls and glasses of water on the table and then moves the cart out of the way before going back across the room to grab the other chair that Hoseok had left near his bedside.

He waits until you’re sitting to do the same, but isn’t sure which side of his food to start from. He picks up the bowl of rice and starts there, the red flakes are spicy.

“Was the book any interesting?” You’re eating the pastry first, scooping out the cream at the center with a small spoon. You motion at the book on his nightstand with a tilt of your head.

The fish is well seasoned and quite distracting, and Yoongi nods, “It didn’t tell me much about anything really...just why my...arcane was created...”

You hum softly, “Well, records on your arcane have been lost for centuries, there isn’t much to know about it unfortunately.” You finish off the pastry, “And there isn’t anyone that could teach you how to properly use it, with it being a pure arcane.”

“Pure arcane?”

“There are no subfields.” You say, and when Yoongi gives you a confused tilt of his head you catch yourself. “Ah. Well...before everything was The Firsts. We’re not entirely sure where they originated from, but they were the first arcane users. Their arcanes were the elements, my ancestor Incra, was the first wind arcane user. While the other elements broke off into subfields, there are rare arcanes that only occur once.

My arcane is hereditary, it's never been bestowed to anyone outside the royal bloodline. Which in itself makes it pure, though, it’s easy for me since everything I need to know about it was recorded.”

“So...how am I supposed to learn how to use it?” Yoongi worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, food forgotten.

“Esther wields a fire arcane, it’s somewhat similar to yours even with how different they are. She’ll be helping me.”

“Right...”

He’s halfway through his steamed potatoes, and you eat quietly across from him. He pokes at the beef with his fork, setting aside the purple broccoli with a little frown. Who knows what that would do.

He supposes he’ll have to get used to this rich food. Not that he hasn’t had something of the like before, it’s just working as a barista isn’t all that freeing; splurging on fancy things like beef was a rare occurrence. That, and most of the money he had to spare went into his savings.

“Y/n...?” Yoongi calls with uncertainty, even though you told him to address you by name. You look up from your plate, humming in question, a brow raised slightly. “Can you tell me anything more about the prophecy?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m sorry. There’s only one record of it and not a lot of people have seen it. Some people don’t even know there is a prophecy.” You chuckle a bit and then grow somber, eyes looking a little sad, “I know this must be hard for you... You’ve been taken away from your life and suddenly everything’s being thrown at you.”

“It’s...” Yoongi sighs, leaning back into the chair, “I’ll manage.”

You stare at him for a moment more, clearly wanting to say something else before you shake your head. “You should eat that,” you point at his untouched pastry with the end of your fork, and Yoongi’s grateful for the change of subject. “It’s amazing. The cream is made from eclipse berries and Duiox milk.”

“What milk?” Yoongi eyes the pastry like it would grow a head and start doing the tango.

“Duiox...it’s like a cow...but they have tusks...you don’t have those?”

After dinner, you say goodbye at the door, pushing the cart back outside his room. You seem a little reluctant to leave as you step outside, fiddling with the silk sleeves of your dress.

“How about a tour tomorrow? If you’re feeling well enough?” You ask, settling the cart against the wall, but your hands never leave the handle.

“That’d be nice.” Yoongi offers a smile. That’d be great actually, it’d be better for him to learn his way around this place if he’s going to be staying.

“Great! I’ll come fetch you after breakfast.” And with that you’re gone, pushing the cart up the hallway and Yoongi watches you leave.

The morning greets Yoongi with a whistled song, a beam of sunlight lighting a stripe along the marble floor. He groans softly as he wakes, a headache thrumming at his temples and behind his eyes when he opens them to squint.

There’s a strange looking bird on the windowsill, hopping along it, chirping softly. The rising sun sets its plumes ablaze in emerald and a sheen of pink, and Yoongi watches as it ruffles its feathers and flies off.

There’s a knock at his door that disturbs the quiet and sends the headache bouncing in his head. He doesn’t think it’s you, as you would poke your head in after waiting a moment. The knock comes again and Yoongi’s forced to get up, shuffling towards the door.

There’s a young servant girl behind it, her eyes wide and blue when he opens the door. She’s brought him breakfast, hidden under silver trays and tells him to simply leave the cart outside when he’s done.

He pulls the cart into his room, finding a breakfast of porridge, toasted bread, scrambled eggs and sliced fruit.

Under the second tray is a porcelain tea set, a small holder with cubes of sugar and another with milk. There’s little mesh bags that smell like spices, which he leaves reluctantly, instead, dropping one of the roots that Hoseok had given him into the teacup. He pours the water over it and watches the steam rise from the cup, giving it time to draw as he eats.

He chews on the crust of a toast slice, watching the water turn auburn. He drinks it quickly, and tries to ignore the bitterness of it.

When he’d finished his breakfast, he left the cart outside as he was told. Before he’d gone to bed last night, a few maid servants brought him clothes that they’d tucked into the wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room, and showed him where the bathroom was. Embarrassingly, the door was hiding behind white drapes he thought were just there for some sort of decoration.

The clothes he received were mostly black and white, and they all incorporated navy blue somehow. He’s guessed by now that’s just the colour scheme of this place. He pulls out a neatly folded black long sleeve tunic, the strings that hold the v-cut of the collar closed the same navy blue as the glittering trimmings of the hem, and black cotton pants that he’ll have to fold at the ankles.

There’s a couple of soft towels folded and tucked into the bottom corner of the wardrobe, and he hugs everything to his chest and makes his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom is large, shelves jutting out of the wall beside a mirror filled with an assortment of bath oils and scented candles. The white marble of the floor shimmers with golden swirls, and the sunken bathtub in the middle of the room is big enough to fit four people standing five feet apart.

The silver faucet at the foot of the tub hums before it spits water when he turns the knob, steam rising and curling into the air. He sets his clothes and towel down, standing before the shelf to pick two of the oils he thinks smells the best.

There’s one that smells strangely of apricot and cinnamon, and one of mint leaves and a label that promises to soothe aches and pains. He pours a bit of each into the water and sinks into it with a sigh.

And Yoongi stays there until the light of the sun seems a bit brighter, no longer hiding behind trees and early morning mist. The sounds that float from outside through the cracked window aren’t half as mindful, as everyone is starting to wake up and go about their day. It’s different to the sounds he’s used to: honking cars and the buzz of traffic, people yelling, his neighbour’s stomping steps in the apartment above him. It’s quieter, the world wakes gently; he likes the change.

He feels different today, the jitter of his nerves had calmed some since last night, the headache he woke with was all but a memory that would be back later, he’s sure. He thinks that at some point between last night and waking, he’s accepted what his life is to be now. The weight of so many people’s lives apparently in his hands, the pressure that he’s certain would come with learning the workings of his arcane, the fact that he may never go back home. All of it.

He stays in the bath until his fingers are prunes and the water is cold, and his hair is a little short of damp; drying in a frizzy mess. He steps out of the tub, watching as the water magically drains away. He dries off and gets dressed, the clothes sticking to his damp skin where the swipe of the towel missed and steps out. He leaves the door open so that the air can flow through the room, filling his bed space with the scent of apricot and cinnamon.

When he's rolling his socks on and tucking the ends of his pants into the top of his boots, there’s a soft knock on his door. He expects the pause that comes after as much as he expected the door to open and you poking your head in.

You smile when you spot him, and Yoongi’s afraid that at some point, he’ll get too used to it. Your dress is silk and pale yellow today, a blue ribbon twisted into the braid of your hair.

“Good morning,” You greet at the door, not coming in and Yoongi wonders why, “Did you sleep well?”

There’s a murmur somewhere behind you that makes you look over your shoulder and roll your eyes, “Stop that.”

Yoongi stands, and at his approach you pull away from the gap in the door, and he finds Seokjin there too, leaning against the adjacent wall.

“If you’re going to be annoying you may as well find something else to do, Jin.” You say, turning to face Seokjin as Yoongi steps out of the room.

Seokjin points a finger to himself, looking offended, “Me? Annoying? I’m a joy to be around!”

“Yes. Whenever you’re not being like....whatever it is you’re being now.” You wave a hand at him, pursing your lips.

“It's my job to follow you around, Your Highness.” Seokjin retorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “I can’t just leave you alone with a stranger.”

“I’ll be fine.” You say a little testily, and Yoongi eyes dart between you and Seokjin as you have a stare off. He suddenly feels like he shouldn’t be standing here listening, feeling awkward and not sure what to do with his hands.

“I’ll walk five steps behind.” Seokjin says, moving a little ways away and counting his steps for you to hear, much to your evident annoyance.

You sigh through your nose, shaking your head before you turn to Yoongi. “There’s a lot to see, come on.”

You lead him through different hallways, showing him different rooms and different things of cultural significance, and Yoongi tries his best to keep up with it all. Seokjin is still walking five steps behind, and every now and then he could feel the weight of his gaze.

The library within the palace is expansive, the grandeur of its size evident as you step into the room. Rows of towering bookshelves line the walls, their mahogany frames gleaming softly in the ambient light filtering through stained glass windows. Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes in the vast collection of leather-bound tomes and ancient scrolls neatly arranged on polished wooden tables.

You gesture towards the rows of books, your voice carrying a note of reverence as you speak. “This is the heart of the palace’s knowledge, where centuries of history and wisdom are preserved.” As you lead Yoongi deeper into the library, you pause occasionally to point out notable works or elaborate on the significance of certain texts.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from curiosity to awe as he absorbs the wealth of information surrounding him. He finds himself immersed in the quiet serenity of the library, captivated by the timeless treasures it holds within its walls.

As you guide Yoongi further into the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink hangs in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of polished wood. Sunlight streams through ornate windows, casting ethereal patterns of light and shadow across the rows of shelves.

You pause beside a particularly ornate display case, its glass surface protecting delicate manuscripts and artifacts. “These are some of the rarest and most valuable pieces in our collection,” you explain, your voice hushed with reverence.

Yoongi leans in closer, his gaze drawn to the intricately illuminated manuscripts and ancient relics within the case. He reaches out tentatively, as if hesitant to disturb the timeless beauty before him.

As you continue the tour, weaving through the maze of bookshelves and alcoves, Yoongi’s fascination deepens with each passing moment. The weight of Seokjin’s silent presence fades into the background, overshadowed by the richness of knowledge and history contained within the library’s walls.

Together, you and Yoongi explore the depths of the library, delving into its vast archives and uncovering the secrets of centuries past. In this sanctuary of learning and discovery, time seems to stand still, allowing Yoongi to lose himself in the wonders of the written word.

Nestled within the heart of the library, concealed behind a discreet doorway veiled in shadow, lies a chamber of treasures known only to the royal family of Jax. This clandestine sanctum, accessible only to those of royal blood, houses a collection of artifacts and tomes that are as priceless as they are precious.

As the heavy door swings open on silent hinges, a soft glow spills forth, illuminating the room in a warm, golden light. Shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, laden with ancient scrolls, intricately bound tomes, and ornate artifacts of bygone eras. Each item within this sacred space holds a piece of the kingdom’s history, a testament to the valor, wisdom, and legacy of generations past.

Among the treasures housed within this chamber are artifacts of great significance, relics from battles long fought and victories hard won. Weapons forged of enchanted steel, their edges still sharp with the echoes of ancient conflicts, stand alongside intricately crafted jewelry adorned with precious gemstones, each piece a symbol of royal heritage and lineage.

Alongside the artifacts, shelves groan under the weight of countless tomes, their leather bindings weathered with age yet still bearing wisdom. These volumes contain the accumulated knowledge of scholars and sages, chronicling the history, culture, and arcane arts of the kingdom of Jax.

As Yoongi steps into this hallowed chamber, he is enveloped in a sense of reverence and awe, keenly aware of the weight of history that surrounds him. Each artifact and tome holds a story waiting to be discovered, a glimpse into the rich tapestry of the kingdom.

The air hums with an almost palpable energy, suffused with the residual magic of centuries gone by. Illuminated by soft, ethereal light that dances and flickers across the ancient stone walls, the room exudes an aura of mystique and wonder.

Upon shelves of polished oak and gilded metal, an array of artifacts sits neatly behind clear glass, each one imbued with its own unique enchantment. Robes of shimmering silk hang suspended in midair, their fabric rippling as if stirred by an unseen breeze, while ancient tomes bound in spell-woven leather beckon with promises of forbidden knowledge.

Glowing crystals pulsate with otherworldly radiance, casting prismatic hues across the room, while ornate staffs and wands stand sentinel, their intricate carvings whispering secrets of arcane power.

“Some arcane users use magic embedded weapons to channel their power.” Seokjin says from the doorway, keeping his word to stay at a distance. He doesn’t disturb your rambling, stepping closer to Yoongi as you move further away, not noticing that they weren’t following. “Some of these were made by the pixies, most of them by the Fae.”

Of course they have pixies, the surprises may never end, and curiosity makes Yoongi ask: “The Fae?”

Seokjin spares Yoongi a glance, “Your world must be so boring.” He sighs, “The Fae are thought to be descendants of an Arcane user that was cursed. They could be mistaken for pixies at a glance if you don’t know what to look for. They use arcane magic and their artifacts as they don’t have magic like the pixies do. They also don’t have wings, and the point of their ears are a lot shorter.”

Yoongi realises this is the most Seokjin has spoken to him since he’s arrived, without the air of barely concealed contempt. He glances at his ears and Seokjin notices, chuckling softly.

“I’m not a Fae. Half pixie.” He clarifies for him, though his tone is a little strained. “I don’t carry an arcane.”

His voice trails off and Yoongi senses that the moment is over. Your steps trail back to them, “You two had me talking to myself.”

“Sorry.” Yoongi and Seokjin speak at the same time, and Seokjin remains close as you continue walking.

You seem to glow in the soft glitter of light, a sparkle in your eyes as you explain everything to him. He wonders how you keep everything at the top of your head to rattle it off like you’re telling him about the weather.

Leaving the sanctuary of the library and the room of artifacts behind, you guide Yoongi through a series of winding corridors adorned with portraits of the royal family and their ancestors. Each painting tells a story, capturing the essence of generations past in vibrant strokes and intricate detail.

You pause before a particularly imposing portrait, its gilt frame gleaming in the dim light. It depicts a figure enveloped in swirling winds, their form shrouded in mystery and power.

“This is Incra.” you announce, your voice tinged with reverence. Incra, depicted in the painting, is a woman of striking beauty and undeniable grace. Her dark hair cascades in glossy waves around her shoulders, framing a face adorned with features as delicate as porcelain. Her eyes, pools of deep, mysterious darkness, hold a glimmer of ancient wisdom and unfathomable power.

In the painting, Incra stands with poise and confidence, her figure shrouded in billowing robes that ripple like the winds she commands. Her presence is commanding yet ethereal, radiating an aura of otherworldly elegance and strength.

Despite the passage of time, the artist has captured Incra’s timeless beauty with remarkable precision, immortalizing her as a symbol of reverence and awe.

Yoongi’s gaze lingers on the painting, captivated by the enigmatic figure at its center. He can almost feel the crackle of energy radiating from the canvas, a testament to the awe-inspiring abilities of the kingdom’s ancient arcane users.

As you move along the hallway, you continue to point out notable figures from the kingdom’s history, offering brief descriptions of their accomplishments and legacies. Yoongi listens intently, his curiosity piqued by the rich tapestry of stories woven into each painting.

With the tour of the paintings complete, you lead Yoongi onward, eager to show him more of the palace’s treasures and secrets. As you traverse the hallowed halls of the castle, Yoongi’s sense of wonder only grows, fueled by the tales of valor and magic that echo through its storied corridors.

Next to him, Seokjin stifles a yawn, “If you don’t stop her she could go on all day.” He says, as you open another door with flair, waving them both forward with a hand. Yoongi doesn’t mind really, even with all the knowledge trying to find a place to settle in his head, having to fit amongst all the other regular things already in there.

At the other end of this hallway is an arched ceiling above another door. The walls are carved by little arched windows that are opened to let the cool air from outside blow in.

Before you all could reach the other door, the door behind Yoongi and Seokjin opens. A young man steps through, eyes glancing between Yoongi and Seokjin before they settle on you. He looks like a guard, though dressed very differently to Seokjin. Adorned in a fitted tunic of midnight black, embellished with intricate silver embroidery that catches the light in subtle glimmers, the guard cuts a striking figure against the backdrop of the palace walls. His trousers, tailored to perfection, flow seamlessly into polished leather boots.

The hood of the dark cloak hides the colour of his hair, the folds of it billows at his feet in the slight breeze. There’s a a stretch of dark fabric over the bottom of his face that hides most of his features that leaves just the striking azure of his eyes. He looks like an assassin if Yoongi didn’t know any better.

“Your Highness.” He calls, and there’s a different air about him that Yoongi could feel. It crackles about him like static. “His Majesty requests you.”

“Oh.” You seem to deflate a bit, and Seokjin pats your shoulder gently.

“You can bore us later.”

There’s a swipe of your hand and Seokjin pulls away with a laugh, just shy of getting hit. There’s clearly something more between you both that goes beyond a Princess and her guard.

Yoongi thanks you for taking the time to show him around and you smile, bidding them both goodbye before you follow after the young man.

It’s quiet between Yoongi and Seokjin , the silence slowly melting into something a little awkward as they’re left alone.

“Well this was riveting.” Seokjin says, dropping his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and leading him forward towards the other end of the hallway. “I’ll show you the courtyard. All the fun stuff happens there.”

[Bold: can't tag]

Permatag: @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eren-fall @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @xpeachesncream @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond

Series tag: @mssukeyna @purest-expressionofgrief @i-dont-give-a-fok @xyahrinx @3sriracha @loveyoongles @studiosakuras @amon-rei @freyawreya

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Okay, so to expand on my headcanons for next season of Young Royals:

- I think Simon will deal with a lot of media scrutiny, a lot of articles about him detailing every aspect of his life in magazines and tabloids, a lot of paparazzi following him around (think Kate Middleton when she was getting engaged to William, and Megan Markle when… well, all the time), and Simon will just try to continue with his life like normal, going to the bus stop to catch the bus to school, hanging with Rosh and Ayub, but always with a mob of paparazzi around. Simon won’t want any special treatment, he won’t want bodyguards or a private car there to take him to and from school, he won’t want any of that because for one thing he won’t understand that his life could be at risk now, and for another because he’s still a socialist and he doesn’t want taxpayers money going to protecting him just because he’s the Crown Prince’s boyfriend. But there would be a lot of reasons he could be in danger: being Latino (fun fact, did you know that there’s a Latina princess in a European monarchy already? The princess of Lichtenstein, Angela Brown, is Panamanian Afro Latina, she’s a fashion designer and she married Prince Maximilian of Lichtenstein in 2000. She was also the first woman of African descent to become a princess in a European monarchy, waaaay before Megan married Harry… but then again, neither Angela nor Megan married the Crown Prince of their respective monarchies, that’s why the monarchies were a bit more cool about it), being gay, being working class, being socialist, being a “class traitor”, etc. And I think Wille will be scared all the time that something might happen to Simon.

- I think this will also open up a big discussion of privilege, because as much as Wille might think he is aware of his own privilege, it’s still too embedded in him that things just happen for him, that things are simply at the tip of his fingers, like they have never been for Simon. But hopefully Simon will be understanding of that, as we see him begin to grasp the way that Wille has been raised when they discussed the book on season 2. And Wille hopefully will also understand why Simon wouldn’t want any special treatment. I think this might also make Wille consider how to use his Crown Prince title to do some good, become a figure of change and kindness (like William and Harry who continued their mother’s work, who have worked with mental health organizations, etc… sorry for all the references to the British monarchy, it’s the one that I know the most about, that and the Spanish monarchy, I know nothing of the Swedish monarchy, it’s just that, in comparison, it’s very… uncontroversial, and thus very… boring I guess. Same as other European monarchies. The Brits take the prize.)

- I think the people around them will also act differently toward them both. The students at Hillerska are still a very privileged and classist bunch, and they still regard Simon as not one of their own, so I think Wille will be a little extra annoyed at that whilst Simon will carry on like normal. I think that Wille will be like ‘I don’t expect you to give him special treatment, but I expect you to respect him like he deserves’, and some people will be cool with it and others not so much. I think Simon will be like ‘whatever, I’m used to it’, but Wille will continue to be defiant. I think those who will still be toadying to the prince will also somewhat start toadying to Simon as well. The teachers and staff will probably also be a little lenient toward Simon just because he’s Wille’s boyfriend, and Simon will be annoyed that he’s inadvertently getting some kind of special treatment.

- That is until the media start digging into other parts of his life, like Micke. (Remember when Megan was about to marry Harry and there was a big interview with her father, with whom she didn’t have a good relationship, and that side of her family got all conflictive, calling Megan uppity and saying that she thought she was better than them?) I fear that Micke will be all too willing to talk proudly about his son, but that’s not what the media will be looking into, they will be looking into dark secrets, and it will bring back a lot of trauma to the surface. Hopefully this will also open at last a serious discussion between Simon and Wille about Simon’s family, and it will explain why Simon can be so guarded with his feelings. I think at that point Simon might let Wille use his influence to protect him.

- The prospect also of the stolen medication and Simon’s “dealing” and Micke’s addictions and how it might reflect on Simon, will force Simon and Wille to obtain special treatment to make the potential scandal go away. They will have to deal with August and all the boys from the Society who knew where the meds came from. They will be forced to face the consequences of the mistakes they made, or they might make new mistakes in their attempt to cover it up. But hopefully they will be communicating the entire time, there won’t be any more secrets between them.

- Speaking of August, I don’t know if at this point the Royal Court will want to get involved in protecting him, so he will have to protect himself. Also at this point I don’t know how he can defend himself at all, no chance of using Alexander as a scapegoat anymore because the one accusing him is Sara who actually saw him posting the video. But it’s a witness account, so maybe it’s tricky…? He could very well say that she’s throwing false accusations at him out of spite, or that she was trying to manipulate him since he’s the next in line for the throne. He might use the stolen meds and accuse Sara of stealing them instead, since the meds are still in her father’s name so he might say it could have been her. She might still be a minor, and the charges would be less severe, but her future would be effectively ruined. And what chance does a poor girl with ADHD and autism spectrum disorder have against the second in line for the Swedish monarchy?

(EDIT: @cahaya-dreaming pointed out that Sara is not a minor anymore, because I completely forgot that they confirm in episode 2 that she’s actually eighteen. So yeah, even bigger deal!)

- I don’t know if Simon will ever forgive Sara for what she did, but he would never let anything bad happen to her no matter what, especially since she tried to make amends by going to the police. But how would the Erikssons ever defend themselves in that situation? They can’t, they don’t have any money for good lawyers. So Wille will have to help them, probably against the Queen’s demand to Wille not to get involved. The media will have a field day, the Crown Prince is accusing his own cousin of filming and leaking the sex video.

- I think there’s a slight chance that Micke himself might take the fall for the meds, that he might come forward and say that he dealt directly to the Hillerska kids, as a way to compensate for everything he did to his children, I don’t know… that would be extra dramatic.

- Someone mentioned that they fear August might try to hurt Wille, like physically hurt him (just like Wille seemed willing to do to August in ep 6) to get him out of the way and get the Crown himself, or just as revenge. And I think there’s a chance that he might become unhinged enough for that. I also fear that he might hurt himself, that his addiction might play a role in that, that his body image issues and addiction might be indicators of something akin to what afflicted his father and caused him to die by suicide. As much as I dislike August I wouldn’t want that to happen to him. I want him, instead, to own up to his mistakes, but he is too power-hungry for that, so my main fear, and this would make for a pretty dramatic scene, is him trying to literally end Wille. Or Simon. Or both.

- In other lighter, sweeter headcanons, I expect that we will get a lot of soft Wilmon moments in season 3. As I said, I want Wille hanging out with Rosh and Ayub, playing videogames at Simon’s house, I want Wille going with Simon to watch Rosh play football, I want them doing all the regular things that Wille has always wanted to do with his boyfriend that he’s never had a chance. I want them cuddling, I want them watching scary movies and curling up into each other for protection, I want Wille helping Linda in the kitchen, I want her making him Venezuelan dishes, I want Wille showing her that he’s learning Spanish and asking her to keep it a secret because it’s a surprise for Simon. I want Wille in Duolingo leaning Spanish and being very secretive and Simon getting nervous because Wille seems to be hiding something and Wille being like ‘it’s not a secret, it’s a surprise’ and promising to tell him what it is soon. I want them to trust each other, I want them to heal from their past mistakes and dishonesties. I kinda want Walter Henry barging into Wille’s dorm and catching them in the midst of fucking like “Hey Wille wanna come with us to- OH SHIT SORRY!” “Walter Henry, do you ever fucking knock?” “Guys guys, I just walked into Wille and Simon fucking in Wille’s room,” “Yeah, what else is new?”. I want them holding hands in the hallways, I want them wearing each other’s clothes, I want them having picnics by the fountain and fawning over each other, I want the other students to get cavities from how sweet these two are with each other. I want Heartstopper-level of lovey-dovey displays of affections between these two. (Edit: I can’t believe an entire week passed before I realized that I wrote Walter instead of Henry…)

- Meanwhile, we can all agree that Nils totally wanted to hook up with Wilhelm, right? Part of me thinks that was purely ‘hey if it happens, it happens’, but also what if Nils is just trying to be all casual about it but it’s totally wishful thinking? I think Nils could turn out to be a little jealous of how for Wille there’s no such thing as hooking up but he’s totally in love with Simon, how little he cares that people know that he’s queer, whilst Nils still keeps his sexuality a secret. But also what if he’s a bit jealous of Simon? They’re both be men of color, but Nils is rich, he has the upbringing, he has the influence, he is older, he knew Erik, in his mind he should be a better match for the prince than Simon. I think the fact that he sort of became Wille’s confidante and Wille in turn became his confidante, and that he repeatedly gave Wille some awful advice in regards to Simon might come into play later. I think he was definitely secretly hoping that Wille would have wanted to hook up with him just to get over Simon, and that’s going to be a thing later (if Nils is still around for season 3, who knows how much time will have elapsed by then).

- I hope that Wille continues to go to therapy, and he slowly learns how to deal with his anxiety and panic attacks. I need Boris to tell him that he needs to talk to Simon about it, that that is still something that he hasn’t told Simon about (or even better, I want Wille to come to that realization himself), but I imagine something will happen first that will trigger a panic attack and Simon will finally be there to see it and help Wille through it, and Wille will have to apologize for not telling him sooner, then telling him all about it. If you’ve never had a panic attack, it can sometimes feel like you’re having an actual heart attack; if you’ve never seen someone having a panic attack, it can actually look like the person is having a heart attack. In other words, it can be scary as shit. So I imagine Simon will be terrified.

- I wonder if we will find out why Erik went to regular therapy. I wonder if the Queen told him to go too. I wonder what more we will find out about Erik. EDIT: i meant to write “why Erik went regularly to therapy…

- If the series doesn’t end in a time-jump to graduation day, I will be in shock. I want them posing for official pictures together, I want them posing for silly pictures with Linda, I want them super happy and thinking about their future together. I want Simon getting a freaking record deal, and not because his boyfriend is the Crown Prince, but because he is that talented.

Sorry for the long post, I think I’m thinking too much about this instead of just rewatching season 2 again and again, as I should. My headcanons will probably change somewhat by then, but this is what’s in my mind right now.

[dreamdepot]

Dreams of the Kingdom - Chapter 13: A Day Off

Previous < First > Next

You have a perfect quiet day for you and Link to be together, complete with a treasure hunt! What could go wrong?

AO3 Wattpad or below!

As a quick note, next week’s chapter will be coming out a little early due to a trip I have planned. Thank you as always for reading!

As you woke up, you couldn’t help but think how funny it is how things can change. Back when you and Link shared a bed for the first time, his heart was racing as you cuddled up next to him. To you, it had been the most restful night’s sleep in your life. Link meanwhile barely slept a wink, too afraid it was all a dream, and he’d never get the chance to be so close to you again. Fast forward to today, and you woke up with your boyfriend laying across your chest with a knee in your face. “At least he’s comfortable,” you murmured.

Since your dream of Koholint, new dreams had stopped for a few days, long enough to get some well-earned rest. Even better, the trip from Gerudo Desert was uneventful, save a couple small skirmishes. Today, you promised Link that the two of you would spend all day together before going to Goron City.

You got up from the comfortable bed at the Tarrey Town Inn. Kapson made it clear he wouldn’t accept your money and made sure to give you and Link the best room in the establishment. You were also thankful to see that Captain Hollo and his Korok engineers hadn’t managed to blow up Tarrey Town, though there was no sign of the little aviators anywhere. After a quick bath (thank the Goddesses for hot water), you came back to see Link watching you with a sleepy smile. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just enjoying the view,” he yawned, slowly sitting up. His hair was an absolute mess. You sat next to him, pulling out a comb.

“You’re not helping,” you laughed, as he kept leaning against you, messing his hair back up as you brushed it down. Finally, you got it to cooperate enough for you to tie his hair back with his favorite well-worn hair band. Link sighed in bliss. “You sure you aren’t part dog or something? Every time I play with your hair you turn into a puppy.”

“I mean, didn’t the Hero of Twilight do that?”

“Wolf, Link. He turned into a wolf.”

“Same difference,” he laughed. He turned to you, blushing a lot like he used to when you first started dating. “I just… It’s one of those things, y’know? Back before the Calamity, I dreamed of going on adventures with you and then, between when you had to do your Prince stuff, we’d hang out in the castle, and you’d do all the stuff royalty does for their knights in the fairy tales.”

You had to laugh a little, knowing how quickly Link flipped between innocent romantic and an innuendo machine. “So, what do royals do for their knights in fairy tales?”

“Stuff like, y’know, flowers, a handkerchief… a kiss?” He said.

You kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t confess sooner.”

“It was both of us,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Even if we don’t have as much time as we’d like… I think it’s better now.”

“Well, I’m keeping my promise no matter what. Today is just you and me, and since we’re feeling nostalgic, I have an idea.”

“I’m listening.”

“I was thinking, since the quakes during the Upheaval opened up a lot of new places, maybe we could take a look inside the Citadel? You found my crown there after Misko hid it, so maybe he hid something else too?”

“That’s perfect!” Link said. “It’s just like the little adventures we always wanted to do as kids! I’ll get the horses!”

==============================

Even as the ruins crumbled, the Citadel was still an imposing sight, dominating the landscape of Akkala. It was designed originally as a garrison but was refitted to be the second safest place when the Calamity arrived. It was also intended to be your residence once Zelda took the throne, though remembering her diary, that seemed more like an “if” rather than “when”. As you and Link explored the outside of the crumbling fortress, you found two entrances. The first was, rather disappointingly, a Horriblin den. The other let you into the actual ruins of the stronghold.

The inside of the former garrison was not in great shape. Years of neglect left much of the wooden floor to rot. Cannons and cannonballs lay in rusting heaps in the corner, buried under rusty halberds and other unsalvageable weaponry.

“You okay?” Link asked, his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll get over it,” you said. “Maybe some things of the old Hyrule are meant to die.” You ran your hand over the mildew-stained wall. “Still… part of me does wish we could have lived here like I wanted, all those years ago.”

“You wanted to live here? With me?”

You laughed. “I never told you? Wait, me having the Gorons redesign the sanctum to be filled with pictures of your predecessors wasn’t enough of a hint?”

“Hey!” Link grumbled. “To be fair, you didn’t know I was hitting on you every damn day back then!”

“Touché,” you snickered. “C’mon, I wanna see if the library is still intact.”

Much of the way was cut off, but soon enough you found your way through a collapsed wall into a small library with a mud-caked window. You knocked a bit off with your sword hilt. “Huh, did you know there’s a Gleeok out there?”

Link winced. “Maybe we should head out the way we came in then.” You nodded in agreement, turning to the books. Unfortunately, the few that were readable were torn and the ones that were intact were ruined by water. “Sorry, there’s no books to take back.”

“Not actually why we’re here. Don’t know if you remember this… think I only showed you once when you were half asleep,” you muttered, counting the collapsed bookshelves. You leaped over a collapsed one to the wall. You tapped the stone with your sword until you found part that sounded hollow. “Here we are.” You kicked a stone in with your foot then pressed another, and the wall swung open to reveal a small study.

“Secret room for you?”

“Yup, more just for when I needed to get away somewhere quiet. Shame none of the weapons are still good.” There were several royal weapons on the wall, but none of them escaped from the Upheaval’s effects. Instead, you were surprised to find a chest near your desk. “Son of a bitch.”

“Misko was called a ‘Great’ bandit for a reason,” Link said with a wry smile.

You reached down to open the chest, but a glowing hand met yours. You and Link both ran back out of the room as another Gloom Hand emerged from the room.

“What’s the point of a secret room if everyone gets into it,” you muttered, drawing your sword.

“Eh, at least we’ve got these guys down to an art,” Link said, firing a bomb arrow that took out all of the hands at once.

You cracked your neck and tightened your grip. “Okay Phantom Ganon, let’s go!” But this time, the gloom did not become a Phantom Ganon. Instead, the form was smaller, sleeker. The clone’s twisted eyes of searing gloom materialized from the malice as the rest of its features slowly formed. Its eyes glowed with a twisted pink-purple light. As it reformed, closer to your height than Ganondorf’s towering stature, the way that it held its Gloom Sword made your blood boil. “Really Ganondorf?!”

“Is that me?!”  

Before you could answer, the Gloom Link charged you. You dodged and tried to swing, your foot catching on a broken bookcase, giving it the chance to flurry rush you. You skidded back, wincing. “Man, it’s better than the others. Guess that’s what happens when it copies a better swordsman.”

“Now’s not the time to be flirting!” Link shouted, shielding you from another strike.

“I’m not flirting!” You shouted back, blocking another strike. “Though gotta say… what would it be like with two Links…”

“Not now [Y/n]!”

“Oh please, like you weren’t staring at my ass in the Sheikah armor all day,” you muttered under your breath.

How do you like my present, [Y/n]? I call it a Hollow… not my first time using it to play with past heroes.

“How about you just dry up already!” You roared, barely keeping the Hollow Link’s corrupted Master Sword copy from slicing your face.

Suddenly, the Hollow flung to the side as Link tackled it away. He winced as the Gloom stung his body. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you! But thanks, he had me on the ropes. He fights just like you, just much more aggressive.” You pulled a jar out of your pack, handing it to Link. “Drink it, it’s some Sundelion-infused soup, should help with the gloom.”

“Thanks,” he said, chugging the soup in seconds. “Alright, so plan?”

“Working on it, the only time I ever beat you was in the nightmare, remember?”

Link studied his doppelganger’s movements, parrying as it swung after him before switching targets back to you.  

As it attacked, you noticed something shift in its eyes, something more malicious. Before you could react, it disarmed you. Before you could hear your sword clatter to the ground, it grabbed you by the throat. You struggled as the gloom burned at your neck, feeling a foreboding sense of deja vu. The familiar face of Link was so twisted by the Hollow, a malicious grin spreading across its face as it pressed its sword against your side, just enough to draw blood.

It’s time you learn your place, boy.

SHHHNK!

The Hollow froze as you both looked down to see a nasty Lynel Horn sword pierced through its chest. “It’s not a perfect copy,” you heard Link growl. “I don’t play dirty and torture my enemies.” He twisted the sword and the monster’s eyes extinguished, the gloom disappearing.

You fell forward into Link’s arms. “[Y/n], are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said hoarsely. You gave him a half grin. “Thanks for saving the prince, brave knight.”

“You know I’ll always be there for you,” He then frowned. “Hey, do you have more of that soup? You have a pretty bad Gloom burn.”

“No, I’m out.” You coughed. You looked at your reflection in a puddle, seeing the burn on your neck starting to fester, with dark lines starting to spiderweb out.

“We should get you outside.”

“Not yet, we’re right here. Let’s see what Misko’s been hiding.”

Back in your now ruined secret room, you cracked a stone chest open, tension building as you forced the lid open. “Is that…?”

Link stared. “Definitely not what I was expecting. How’d Misko get his hands on this?”

Sitting in the chest was a neatly folded set of pale clothes and silver armor, engraved with celestial symbols. On top of the pile was a mask in war paint and a terrible grimace that bore an unsettling resemblance to your boyfriend. “The Fierce Deity armor… this was supposed to be locked deep in the Royal Vault.”

You were a bit surprised that the mask was just like any other mask, wooden with painted details. Holding it in your hands, it felt like a toy. Closing your eyes, you focused, trying to feel its supposed hidden power, yet there was nothing. “I’m not sure if I should be happy or disappointed. Having some extra firepower against Ganondorf would be nice.”

“Can I?”

“Sure.” You handed the mask to Link, who flinched. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, think you just shocked me or something.”

“Oh oops, sorry.” You coughed into your arm, a much deeper, wheezing cough.

“C’mon, let’s get you outside, you’re not looking so good.” Link propped you up on his shoulder, sliding the spoils of your expedition into his pack.

Neither of you noticed how the mask’s hair seemed to brighten a bit.

==============================

Back at the Tarrey Town Inn, Link forced you into bed. You protested, “I don’t feel sick, just exhausted. I don’t have any energy.” Of course, right as you finished that, you let out a hacking cough.

Link merely tied a handkerchief into a makeshift face mask for you. “Regardless, you should rest.”

“But what about everything we need to do? We’ve gotta get going to Goron City tomorrow. And what about our special day?” You tried to sit up, but Link easily pushed you back down into the bed.

“No, you’re not going to do anyone any good if you’re too tired to even lift your sword. We’ll rest here for a day or two.” Before you could protest any more, Link tucked you into bed under a comfy quilt. You tried to say something, but Link cut you off. “I don’t care if you’re the prince; you’re staying here, and I’m taking care of you.”

You may have been the better cook of the two of you, but Link was by far the better doctor. Sure, you knew battlefield remedies but anyone – Teba especially – would say that you were better for emergency healing, not long-term care. It wasn’t your fault; keeping people alive in an emergency was more important than comfort.

Link, on the other hand, was firm but always thinking steps ahead. After making sure the bed was comfortable as possible and that the light wasn’t too bright for you, he brought you a book from the inn’s small library before disappearing. He was hardly gone for more than fifteen minutes before returning. He set down a tray with warm porridge made with Sundelions and tea with your favorite blend of calming herbs and honey candy for your throat. He gently wiped the sweat from your forehead before placing a compress of White Chu Jelly.

“Maybe I should have told my father I needed you as my personal doctor all those years ago instead,” you said, trying not to cough.

“I’ve only gotten good because the two of us keep beating ourselves up,” Link said. You opened your mouth, but he cut you off. “I know what you’re going to say, and me doing dangerous reckless things is different.”

“I swear if you say it’s because you’re my knight, I will kick your ass.”

“I was going to say because I’m your boyfriend and I say so. And also, because I’m definitely the one who’s better at getting out of dangerous stuff.”

“Dick,” you laughed. “But seriously, thank you. For everything.”

Link softly let his fingers run through your hair. “You should sleep, my prince.”

You had to admit, your eyelids were feeling heavy. “But…”

“I can get you another book if you’d like.”

“It’s not that Link. It’s the dreams.”

Link frowned. “But I thought they stopped for now? Or is this about the ones with Ganondorf again?”

“Yes… those. Kinda. It’s complicated.” You groaned. “It’s said that Hylians have long ears to hear the whispers of the Goddesses, to hear their guidance. Ganondorf also said that he wasn’t the only one trying to mess with my head. I think there’s something bigger than we think going on.”

Link pursed his lips. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

“We know that my dreams are leading us to pieces of the Triforce. We also know that my other dreams are about someone in Ganondorf’s past, and that Ganondorf himself seems to enjoy popping in my head now and then. That last bit is obviously him messing with me, but what about the other parts? Who wants us to find the Triforce and who wants me to see this guy in the past?” You took a deep breath. “That’s not all either. You know how you’re the current Hero and that you’re sort of a reincarnation of the previous heroes?”

“That part is debatable depending on who you ask, but yeah?”

“I think that this guy, the former Dragon Priest, is a past life of mine.”

Link was silent for a moment, until a weak laugh squeaked out. “Of course, why not. I’m dating the demon king’s ex.”

“Link…”

“If anyone else told me, I’d say they were crazy. But,” he sighed. “[Y/n], I trust you. I’m not sure what it means, but hopefully it’s something good.”

You snorted. “I don’t see how.”

“Think of it this way, is Ganondorf – Mr. All-Powerful Demon King, a man we know holds grudges for millennia – the type to reminisce and pine over someone?”

You started to speak, but cut yourself off, then frowned. “I’m not sure. Tauro said that he might have been killed by King Rauru, but there’s no proof. And… based off of the last dream, it seems like Ganondorf may have been abusive. Then again, maybe he snapped and went into a rage over a lost lover.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. Remember under the castle, Ganondorf acted as though you were his property, not his long-lost love.”

You thought back to your nightmares before all of this even started and what Ganondorf said. “You’re right… he said, he ‘hasn’t forgotten my treachery.’ That’s definitely not something he’d say if he was in love.”

“Exactly, and even if Ganondorf is completely head over heels for the past version of you, why would he want to show the relationship in its rough spots to you?”

“Then,” you said, your voice dropping. “If it’s not Ganondorf showing me, who is?”

“I’m not sure,” Link said, “but there’s one way to find out – if you have more dreams.”

“Link, I-”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I’m serious. This might be the way we find out how to beat him. If someone is sending you these dreams, it’s for a reason. We need to find out the rest.” He scooted his chair closer. “I promise, I’ll be here the whole time.”

“You’re gonna watch me sleep?”

Link flushed. “Not like that! I mean, if you have a nightmare, I’ll wake you up!”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Link.”

“No matter what I’ll always be with you.” He kissed your hand and drew the curtains. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes.

==============================

You found yourself at Ganondorf’s side, trying to look small and demure as he addressed King Rauru. Unlike usual, you dressed in a more fitting apparel than your rather revealing servant robes. You chose to wear your Frostbite Armor, as it appeared more formal, almost regal. It didn’t hurt that it invoked wisdom, and you certainly needed as much as you could get today.

As was proper for a servant, you kept your head bowed and knelt lower than Ganondorf as he addressed the king. You winced, hearing Ganondorf’s words of supposed fealty, yet there was a noticeable malice underneath. As he continued his plea, your eyes wandered up, and then your heart stopped.

It was Zelda.

For a fleeting moment it felt like you had control over this body and stared in shock at your sister. She was so close but so far, standing there next to Rauru’s throne. It hurt to see her pretending to be the quiet princess again, like she had to when you were young, but something was different. You knew the fire hidden in her eyes; it meant she was planning something big… but what? If only you could get a moment with her alone. Even if this was a dream, if there was even the slightest chance of getting a message to her…

“Forgive my servant,” Ganondorf growled, grabbing your head and pushing it down into a full kowtow to King Rauru. “He must be captivated by your daughter’s beauty.”

“Oh no, Zelda is my family, but not my daughter. A distant relative you could say.” You managed to catch a glimpse of the Zonai King looking at you. Despite his guarded expression towards Ganondorf, his gaze seemed kinder towards you.

The court session lasted for a few more agonizing minutes before you were all allowed to leave. Once outside, Ganondorf turned to you. “What was that? Letting your eyes wander to that wench?”

A fire rose in your chest, but thankfully your dream self was in control. “Did you not notice, my lord?”

“Notice what?”

“Something more than her secret stone. She carries a deep power within her.”

Ganondorf snorted, but you could tell he was intrigued. “Go.”

You bowed deeply, though your dream self was a bit bitter at his words – or rather word. You turned and left down the hall. As your traveling party would be staying the night at the castle, you were to be sent to stay in a different wing while Ganondorf would be in the guest rooms. The ancient castle was, of course, smaller than the future Hyrule Castle, but still quite roomy. Soon you came to a fork in the hallways. While the other servants went down the right hallway, you snuck down the left.

You passed some soldiers who paid you no mind as you wandered deeper and deeper, until you came to a small courtyard. Another guarded doorway stood on the other end. “Halt,” the soldiers ordered. “No outsiders are permitted in this part of the castle.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, with fake meekness. “I just was looking for-”

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to look up into the eyes of King Rauru. The king looked at you with a kind, soft gaze. “Pardon me, but are you perhaps lost?”

“Ah, yes your majesty,” you said with a deep bow. “I am afraid I was not paying attention and seem to have lost my way back to Lord Ganondorf. I am terribly sorry for troubling you.”

“Do not worry, please follow me – I’m sure we can find him.” He signaled to the guards, who let the two of you into the hallway.

For a moment, the two of you walked in silence. You returned to the “good servant” act with your gaze at the floor. However, once you were sure you were alone, you spoke. “I have concerns, Rauru.”

“I would be worried if you didn’t, my friend.”

“Ganondorf is clearly posturing to be close to you. I fear he seeks the power of the secret stones.”

“Then all is as we expected.” Rauru stroked his chin. “Has he made any plans yet?”

“No, only observing. I fear he may attack you, Sonia, or Mineru… or perhaps that new young lady. Ganondorf was right, she really does look like she could be Sonia’s daughter.”

“Ah, you mean Zelda. Quite the interesting story there, though I fear I do not have time to tell you today… unless-”

You held up your hand. “Rauru, I can’t come back now. There is more than a credible threat against the kingdom. My pride as a Dragon Priest and a servant of Hyrule would never allow me to leave now.”

Rauru stopped you and placed his hands on your shoulders. “Your life isn’t worth this.”

“My life doesn’t matter if it means keeping the people of Hyrule safe from him.” You paused, clutching your chest. “And… perhaps…”

Rauru kept his gaze fixed on you, but it was now bitter. “I’m sorry, but… you know he won’t change.”

“No. No, I suppose he won’t.” You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was never more than a tool for him. I did volunteer for this to get my answers… I didn’t realize how much the truth would sting.”

“Come,” Rauru said, leading you to a door. Inside was a small study that reminded you of your sister’s old laboratory. Part of it opened out to a view of a beautiful lake. Rauru gestured to a soft chair, while a servant construct served you a cup of warm tea. “My friend, it may not have meant to be, but I know you’ll find the right person when the time comes.”

You laughed weakly. “Not in this lifetime.”

The conversation drifted a bit before Rauru said, “Before you go, you should know, Mineru has nearly finished your request. Sonia has also done as you asked – though I must say it’s quite an unusual project.”

 “That’s a relief, and unusual as it is, I feel that we cannot be overprepared. Whatever we do, even if he does get his hands on a secret stone, he must never know about… that. I would sooner kill him or myself before that happens.”

“My friend, the darkness never expects danger from the shadows.” The king laughed hollowly. “Are you sure there is nothing I can do to convince you to come back?”

“I’m sorry, but I must finish my task.” You looked towards Zelda as she walked along the lakeshore. “To give Hyrule a future.”

“Then all I can do is wish you the best and hope you come home safe to us soon.” His third eye opened and focused on you with a calm but piercing stare. You could feel the gaze as if he was not looking at you in the dream, but you as Prince [Y/n], watching the dream from afar…

==============================

You nearly bolted out of bed. “Whoa, take it easy!” Link said, catching you.

“He’s working for Rauru! He’s a spy!”

“Slow down,” Link said, guiding you back. “Also, we have guests…”

“What? Who?” Your eyes shot across the room as you pulled the sheets up to your shoulders.

Link laughed. “Calm down, just some old friends. They have something important for us. Should I let them in?”

You quickly ran your hand through your hair to try and hide any signs of bed-head. “Sure, but-”

“It’s about Zelda.”

That changed everything. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Link disappeared around the corner for a moment, and you heard the inn room door creak open. He spoke in a hushed voice, urging them to let you rest. Instead, he received a scoff, and the visitors made their way around the corner.

“Ah I’m so glad to have found you.” Impa said, shuffling towards your bedside with Cado and Purah in tow. Ever loyal, Cado stood guard at the door. Link offered Impa a chair, but she waved him off. Link sat on the edge of the bed next to you. “Prince [Y/n], you seem to be recuperating.”

“Not quickly enough,” you muttered, leading to her smacking your hand. “Ow, what the hell?”

“Don’t use that tone with me, young man!”

“We’re literally the same age.”

Impa gave you a conniving grin. “I know, I just wanted to say that to you once.”

You let out a bark of a laugh. “You sure decided to relax for once now that you’re retired. I seem to remember someone harping on me for sneaking out of the castle.”

“At least until you paid her off with treats from the bakery,” Purah added.

“Everyone knows sweets keep you young,” Impa said.

Purah smirked, motioning to herself. “Beg to differ.”

“What brings you all here?” You asked, hoping to avert a sibling squabble. “I know you wouldn’t come to visit just because I got a little sick.”

Impa nodded. “Unfortunately yes, there’s another reason I’m here. I’m sure you’re aware of the massive geoglyphs that have appeared across Hyrule since the Upheaval?”

“They’re hard to miss,” Link muttered. “How did they show up anyway?”

“That’s what Cado and I have been investigating, but that led us to an unexpected place. Prince [Y/n], I’m sure you’re more familiar than anyone with the Forgotten Temple near Tabantha?”

How could you forget. “Oh hey, I’ve been wanting to explore down there, it’s been so long since I’ve been to the bottom of Tanagar Canyon.”

Link winced. “Please don’t joke about when you technically died.”

“Oh Link, you have to laugh at death when you get to our age,” Impa said.

“I’m the same age as both of you!”

“He’s no fun,” Impa sighed. “Anyway, the ancient temple there was a former stronghold of Hyrule under King Rauru, though it was ordered to be sealed after his death. What we found was… intriguing. An entire map of Hyrule with the geoglyphs marked on it, all twelve of them. What does that tell you?”

You thought for a moment. “The geoglyphs were there before, or they were planned to be hidden there by someone. Someone wants us to find all of these messages from the past.”

“So, we did,” Impa continued. “Cado and I traveled across the kingdom and were able to investigate almost all of them. Each of them had a pool of water that seemed unaffected by wind or heat.”

Purah referred to her notebook. “I tested the water sample every way I could, and it seems to be some kind of mystic salt water. That does track with our hypothesis… legends say that tears from a dragon never dry and can grant you forbidden knowledge should you drink from them.”

You deadpanned. “You didn’t.”

“Oh please! Give me a little credit!”

Impa smacked Purah’s arm. “Back to the point here, these tears… I can see something within them. They appear to be some visions of the past. It’s difficult to make out the images, especially with my eyes these days.”

“It’d be better if you just wore glasses,” Purah muttered. “Anyway, I was able to create a high-powered magnifying scope to help focus it and we were able to figure out the images, and you won’t believe what we saw.”

“Zelda,” you and Link said together.

“It was Zel-,” Purah frowned. “You two are no fun. How and why?”

You felt your body tense up, but Link rubbed your back. “You should tell them.”

With a sigh, you started to explain your dreams.

[poisoned-pearls]

TELL US ABT UR FANKIDS. I WANT TO KNWOW!!! :3

AHHH okay!! So

in this world nrc became coed around five years after the current first years graduated

Faraja is just Leona’s child (bc I don’t really ship him with anyone but it just felt right to have one), and she is very like, calm. And super in love with her girlfriend. Big defining trait right there bc she is a sunset savanna feminist. 1. Complétive spell drive champion and princess (though so far removed from the crown she doesn’t care anymore, bc when five people + would have to die for you to get the crown, including your own father, you kinda just. Stop paying attention to it) and 2. Dedicated girlfriend

Here are some of my doodles of her (including dad leona. He’s a history professor at a magic college and all of his students love him)

VIVIENNE is her girlfriend. I called her evie for shorthand until I had the time to look up an actual name. Yes it is after evie from descendants.

Viv is a musician who is definitely a bit of a nepo baby bc of vil, but she’s also definitely talented enough to hold her own without him. She plays guitar and keeps a crossbow on her at all times (imagine those gun thigh straps but magical folding crossbow instead of gun). they met as first years in savannaclaw, and the main reason she transferred was bc the old pomefiore housewarden was becoming a fourth year and REALLY needed someone to take over, so in a panic fueled haze went “hey your dad was a good housewarden, think you can fill in for me? Sorry what was that I gotta go on my internship now good luck with the dorm!!!-“ so she stepped in

(she does have a problem of dressing like a Christian college girl going on a mission trip every time she comes to the savanna tho.)

the entire reason I even thought of putting them together tho was bc I thought it’d be HILARIOUS for leona and vil to have to have the most AWKWARD “meet the parents” dinner EVER. NEITHER OF THEM WERE MADE AWARE BY THEIR CHILDREN BC NEITHER OF THEIR KIDS KNEW THEY HAD MAD BEEF IN HIGHSCHOOL

anyways by the time leona and vil figured it out it was #toolate. Their daughters were already together for a year and a half.

Nami is the first one I ever designed and thought out. She’s also the only one to have a named and fully thought out unique magic

she can speak 7 languages and way too many animal ones, has to go down to 8ths to explain most of her heritage (3/4th Japanese and 1/4italian azul and 1/2 Egyptian, 1/4 Arabian (my lore swap in word bc oh my fucking god agrabah is such a fucking headache. Orientalism is a bitch when it comes to historical research. What do you mean the live action is primarily Indian clothing but narration describes it being off of a river nowhere near that. India isn’t even NEAR an Arabian desert. That was way too much of a tangent- anyways) and 1/4th South Indian Jamil creates the most annoying white girl answer of “oh well ACTUALLY I’m 1/6th French 1/4th German-“ answer but not white.)

nami’s ultimate magic is called siren song. Anyone who hears her singing is made vunerable to her hypnotism. It is not active all of the time, and if someone is out of earshot the hypnotism wears off. She performs weekly concerts at school (which she is fully not supposed to do btw. If either of her dads heard abt it she’d get in trouble for the first time in her life SO FAST-) to get people used to hearing her sing. Just in case she needs to mass hypnotize the school, bc you never know-

nami has also had a serious escape artist problem since she was able to freely transform between her human and mer form (which I have more lore for, but I am making a diagram for that so that shall be a different post). She can and will get up on roofs, inside walls and vents, climb fences, poles, and generally anything. She was air tagged and gpsed by Jamil constantly (kalim was the predecessor), and that was only done to find her after the fact.

She was tossed around as a child like a divorced kid so Jamil could travel as much as he wanted. She’d go to school where azul was based (a fancy ass private school for kids who are like, 110% guaranteed to be mages so they had teachers who could handle it) and whenever she’d go to live with Jamil for a month Azul would just. Lie and say it’s a mermaid thing so she can’t be in person but she can do twst version of zoom- (also whenever she was being swapped the parent would fly with her to the other one. They also spent months together as a full unit and Jamil stopped traveling as much when she turned 11 but that is how she’s visited over 30ish countries)

(also just bc the teachers were trained to deal with magic doesn’t mean they were trained to deal with Nami: expert escape artist(tm). No one has succeeded in stopping her OTHER than when she was 7 and had a pole scaling problem, so Jamil slapped some leggings on her so she’d lose the grip her skin had. However this backfired when she just gained the ability to lift herself up with only her arms. A lot of her skills also have to do with her ability to withdraw her tentacles in like, a split second tho. She can pull out two and use octo strength to pull herself up or scale walls.)

she struggles with fears of falling short however. She feels like she can’t exactly beat expectations, only meet or fail them. It’s not like either of her parents put this pressure on herself, but when one parent was opening up a restaurant and the other was fully abt to stage a coup it’s kinda hard to beat that. She’s terrified of just being, average, bc to her, she should have everything to make her excellent.

She also is good at dancing and piano. She was that five year old who is better at piano than most adults. She also watches dramas with auntie Najma a lot. She is very close with Najma-

neo is my little cringe fail idikei kid. I love him so much he’s so funny to me. He’s immensely camera shy and suffers from high anxiety. He can however find out absolutely everything abt someone from a burner acc however.

absolute menace online. Nothing is safe from him. He doesn’t poss himself at ALL but best believe he knows everyone’s instas in the whole school. He does have access to crowleys search history just in case he ever needs blackmail

he also has a HUGE ass crush on Nami (she doesn’t reciprocate, bc she definitely sees him as a kid even tho he’s just a year younger (mainly bc she was the one who helped him adjust to being a housewarden)) bc he saw her, got SEVERELY intimidated by her, and then once she helped him adjust, he admired her. So he is very very awkward around her. He isn’t weird abt it with her tho. He would literally rather die than weird her out, bc that is his IDOL/hj. He thinks she’s very pretty as well. The other first years use this to their advantage to get him to come do things with them

those are the most like, thought out and complete ones I have for now-. Samir is kinda just a vibe and not much of a fleshed out character and the rest need legit names before I can confidently talk abt them, BUT rest assured I have MANY thoughts abt them

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

<3

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

[crystalcow]

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 3

Masterlist // part one // part two

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, death, betrayal

•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰

╔.▪️.═════════╗

Being sapnaps child will include..

╚═════════.▪️.╝

𝐏𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐥

Apparently the castle got attacked

George was killed by the one and only technoblade

You haven’t personally met the man but you respected him

After all he is a legend

But he killed George

So you were dragged with sapnap when he got pinged on his coms

Dream and George were arguing on the prime path

The sight somewhat terrified you

They were supposed to be best friends?

Dream is the strongest person on the server

George was supposed to be the most unproblematic and protected person

For some reason Quackity was also there

Hiding in the corner of Tommy’s house

“You don’t give a shit about us”

Those words brought some hurt to you as they left sapnaps mouth

“Of course I care about you! I just want to keep him safe.”

The three most important men in your life

The dream team, and ultimate trio the friendship that could never crack! The ones who raised you to be who you are

They were falling apart

“George is no longer king!”

Quackity was just eating all of the drama

Damn duck

“I’ve done so much for you, I hope you don’t forget.”

“Like what?” “I helped you raise a child Sap, a damn child.”

That pissed the both of you off

As if you didn’t just recently spend a whole day with him

None the less your whole life

Being drawn into wars, multiple actually

Practically being drawn to death

“Don’t you bring them into this Dream.”

“Eret is now king again, he can actually rule this place.”

“I was the best king this server ever had!”

So there it happened

The crown was snatched off of George’s head and you were dragged along with it

“Don’t worry, we can start our own place!”

“El rapids it is”

𝐄𝐥 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐬

You were 100% skeptical about all of this

You didn’t trust that this would be good

I mean how could you

Everything that someone starts on the server

Dies, explodes, nukes, or straight up fails

So instead you went down to Lmanburg for the day!

You went to Nikkis bakery to get something to eat

She was glad to give you a couple snacks for the road

So while you were walking around the new area you spotted dream

“Where you heading off to?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You both eyed each other weirdly

“Aren’t you supposed to hate me?”

You just laughed

Ofcourse you were upset

But you were also bored

“And?” “Come on let’s go see tommy”

So you agreed and carelessly followed the green man

You missed Tommy, after not having seen him for a bit

Fucking hell you needed friends

But when you got there

“Why the fuck is everything gone!”

You ran around the now blown up area

The tents were destroyed and signs were thrown around

Then you noticed the large pillar

You instantly ran to dream, begging him to give you a pearl

He was upset himself he lost his leech

So you threw the pearl up thankfully landing on the pillar

Looking around to see if there was any way he could’ve survived

But you accidentally tripped

And lost your first life

𝐘/𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝗼𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝗼𝗼 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 ♡︎♥︎♥︎

𝐏𝐫𝗼𝐩𝗼𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐬

You woke up screaming in your bed

The three lines on your wrist now faded into two

Sapnap came rushing in holding you lose to him

You tried not to but you cried a little

This was your first time loosing a life..

And you didn’t even mean too!

“Your never fucking leaving me again.”

Karl came in with Quackity following after

Karl just like snatched you away from sapnap and just held you

That man was ready to go back in time and reverse that from ever happening

Trust me he will if you ever loose another life

So after that everyone kept a close eye on you

That was until one day you were with your dad

You both were at your old house just chilling around

Before he handed you two velvet boxes

You were in awe of the two rings that sat in them

Who the fuck paid for these??

“I’m going to purpose.”

You almost dropped the boxes

“What?”

Sapnap just kept smiling

“You really like em huh” “Yeah flame, I love them.”

So you just hugged him

Internally freaking the fuck out

What would this mean???

Three dads? What if they wanted another child! Oh hell no

So you all stood in el rapids

Candles were spread around the top of the grassy hill

There were flowers blooming from every direction and lanterns set afloat

It looked mystical

You watched as sapnap got down on one knee

Karl was in shock, tears streaming down his eyes

Quackity looked love struck, looking into sapnaps eyes with total adoration

So when they said yes your dad called you and the other two just hugged you

“I’m guessing they said yes” you laughed

“Yeah they did!”

You couldn’t help but be happy

Your dad finally found some happiness

Even tho life was going to shit

If you won’t be there

He’ll have them

𝐋𝗺𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺

Oh wait shit did someone spot tommy?

There was supposed to be a festival today

So you went to go check it out

Maybe throw a ball at the furry

“Go fetch!” You shouted at fundy

Yeah he was not happy and just threw you the finger

“Hey N/n is Dream coming?”

You were excited that Tubbo was actually talking to you again

“Huh? Oh yeah I think” “Great thanks”

And back to the disappointment

So you walked over to get a pretzel or some shit

And then heard everyone making a commotion

There he was, Dream walking in (angry) with full netherite armor

Damn dude respect some tradition

“Tommy blew up the fucking community house”

Did someone say tommy?

Oh you were ready to kill that bastard

Hell if Dream didn’t you most definitely will

So you followed everyone to the community house

Yeah you were ready to fucking cry

One of your homes, the place you’d always confide in since you were little

Where dream and George both helped raise you

Now blown to shreds

“What the fuck”

They were talking about Tubbo giving up the discs

Oh we are not going through that shit all over again

And this time the odds are most definitely not in your favor

Then tommy appeared half invisible

“YOU FUCKING DICKHEAD I THOUGHT YOU DIED YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT”

You litterly stabbed him, having to be held back by Quackity

“Alright hot shot, lets let them have their argument”

Tommy sent you an apologetic look already on the verge of tears

“Tubbo your not seriously considering this”

Then it hit everyone

“The discs were worth more then you ever were!”

Oh yeah we’re you already pissed off at tommy?

Yeah

And he just made it worse

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY TO TUBBO YOU SHIT HEAD”

Yeah you didn’t take pretending to be dead very lightly

Oh shit why was techno there

never mind, Lmanburg will be gone by tomorrow

No point killing tommy yet

Whos side were you on?

Neither. You litterly went into that battle feild and killed some shit

That was until multiple pieces of tnt landed ontop of your head

And that’s where you lost your second life

Shit

𝐘/𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 ♡︎♡︎♥︎ ⚠︎︎ᴏɴᴇ ʟɪғᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐬𝗼𝐧

This time when you won’t up it didn’t feel as bad

But you still screamed

A rush of a heartburn and scars employed on your body

The second line now faded into one

Shit

You were only 16-17 and on one life??

Die young the better

You waited out in your bed until the end of the fight

Death alerts and messages drowning out your communicator

But you had no energy what so ever

Until it all went quiet

You tried your damn best to get out of bed and walked to the damaged Lmanburg

There were people crying

Others were severely hurt

Then there were those who were perfectly fine

The whole place was a crater

Lmanburg.. the place of agony and depths of your pain

Now it’s finally gone

What the hell are you gonna do now?

Quackity spotted you calling out for Sapnap

You felt like you were gonna be crushed under their hold

“I’m gonna fucking kill dream.” You heard Quackity mutter

Sapnap felt like a bad father

Who lets their kids die twice?

(Cough cough Wilbur and dream)

Then suddenly things switched around

You were walking around with a bloodied nose and black eyed Tommy

Yeah you did a number on him

But it’s okay since he was your best friend

And there was a sign inside his house

“Wednesday you and Tubbo. Bring no one or anything, lets settle this once and for all”

The final disc war

“Tommy you can’t go” “I’m going N/n, he has my discs.”

So you like cried a little bit lined up on the prime path

Giving the two probably the last hugs they’ll ever get

Prime you really didn’t want to loose them

So you ran straight to church prime

Litterly begging Master Oolong that they won’t die

“Please please please spare them. Pogchamp.”

(Please this is all jokes and old references don’t cancel me)

You got a blast message from punz on your comms with cords

“Come here. bring your best armor”

So you did so running to the nearest ender chest

If walking means saving tommy and Tubbo, it’s somewhat worth it

Sapnap made sure you didn’t leave his side as you traveled around the nether

even tho you could literally swim in the lava

So just to piss him off

You jumped in

The sigh of relief this man

Yeah he’s gotten a little more paranoid for you

But it’s okay since it’s in love

You looked around the weird black stone room

There were two giant photos of the discs

And everything was made out of the same material

No design what so ever

Tommy and Tubbo ran to you like you were gonna protect them

“Dream why” you asked as he was incased in the blocks

Down on his last life

Just like you

‘I’m sorry’ he mouthed to you

Why was he apologizing to you?

Hasn’t he hurt everyone here

You looked around the different items

Tracing the outline of the item frames

Gasping in shock as you a cage with your name on it next to badboyhalo

“Tell em what you told me! How you blew up the community house!”

Your neck spun around faster then an owl doing that 360 thing

You picked up your ace seriously read to slash his head off

“Wait wait! Lets put him in the prison.”

So they took him off

And it pained you to see it

You trusted that man for a very long time

Nothing stays the same on the Dream Smp

•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰

TUMBLR WOULDNT LET ME WRITE MORE KMS. So yes I’m sorry but there will have to be a part FOUR. I just wanted to finish this-

As always! Ask or request anything and ask if you want to be on a tag list :))

[honeytae]

I can’t wait to create more memories with you.

hi my loves! so this is a super fluffy little piece about jungkook and his s/o moving in together - it starts out on moving day and there’s a little flashback to when the topic of moving in together was first brought up :) it’s overall just really cute idk i hope you guys like it <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy

genre: fluff

word count: 2.8k

Slowly turning the handle to enter your apartment, you tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for what you would inevitably see. That didn’t seem to work, though, since it felt like an absolute sucker-punch to the gut. 

The space looked brand new; a completely blank canvas for its next tenants.

Walking into the empty apartment you used to call your own now felt heavy instead of homey. The path to your bedroom felt routine, but slightly shaken with the absence of all your things. Photos of your family no longer occupied the walls, that little throw rug you’d picked out for the summer had been cleaned off the floor, and the various vases of flowers your boyfriend surprised you with were no longer kept front and center on the table against the wall. 

And even though those items were still in existence, even though everything was still intact and far from gone, it still made your heart clench a bit in your chest that they would no longer be here.

Rounding the corner to enter your bedroom, you leaned your shoulder against the door frame for a moment, admiring the pristine openness of your room in its empty state. You couldn’t recall it ever feeling so big.

Heaving a deep sigh, you let your legs carry your body over to the bay window, taking a seat on the ledge to peer out at the view one last time.

At the sound of Jungkook calling your name, you glanced back to the doorway of your bedroom, staring at your boyfriend as he tipped his head at your unreadable expression.

Although he’d been lifting boxes all throughout the morning and afternoon, somehow he barely looked strained. In fact, he was still annoyingly attractive. He had his grown out hair tossed back into a bun (with one of your hair ties), and he was wearing plain black shorts hidden beneath one of his many oversized t-shirts.

How he could make it all look so good, you had no idea.

“Hi.” You said, the man wordlessly approaching you with a run of his palms down his thighs, crossing the room in only a few long strides to get to your swinging legs.

“I didn’t expect to find you in here. You okay?” He asked, his brows pulled together as he took a seat beside you.

Taking a stray strand of your hair between his fingers, he pushed it back from your face, subtly analyzing the emotions written into your features with dancing pupils.

Immediately wanting to ease him, you leaned forward, pursing your lips underneath his jawline before letting your chin rest on his shoulder. 

Wrinkling your nose at the odor rising from his t-shirt, you tilted your head slightly to escape the smell, unbeknownst to Jungkook.

“You’re sweaty.” You observed, the man craning his neck to look down at you, comically raising his brows at your bluntness.

“I’ve been working!” He defended himself, making you chuckle a bit before picking your head up to smile at him.

“I know you have.” You said appreciatively, leaning forward to press your lips to his when he subtly puckered them out to you.

“Saying your goodbyes?” He offered in explanation to your presence in the apartment, having already successfully gathered every last box there was to take.

You laughed at that, nodding a bit in response.

“In a way.” You shrugged, letting your temple fall on his bicep with a sigh. Shifting your eyes down to your leg as Jungkook grabbed ahold of your thigh, you smiled as he lifted and draped it over his own thigh, drumming his pointer fingers on your muscle.

Feeling his lips purse against the top of your head, you let your eyes fall shut, the distant sound of birds outside the screened window behind you letting you zone out into a much more peaceful space than your mind had been in previously.

It was the only serene moment you’d had today. From movers bustling in and out of your apartment, your mom coming to help you label and sort all your boxes, your neighbors poking their heads in to the chaos to finally nose their way into seeing the layout of your place in comparison to theirs; it had been a lot.

“Are you gonna miss it here?” 

Peeling your eyes open at Jungkook’s sudden question, you lifted your head to properly look at him, curiosity evident in the slight widening of his eyes.

“Hm. The memories it holds, more than anything.” You answered, watching as he nodded in understanding. “I never liked the kitchen layout.” You added as an afterthought, causing the man to burst into giggles before shaking his head at you.

“I don’t think the kitchen was too bad. Although I love our kitchen.” He grinned at the emphasis he could officially put on the word, you sharing the same reaction at the phrase. Our kitchen. Our new apartment.

“I’m so excited.” You all but squealed, the man chuckling as you squeezed him tighter to you in your excitement.

“Me too.” He said, smile slightly closing his eyes as his face creased with the strength of his happiness.

“Remember how nervous you were when you first brought up moving in together?” You wondered, peeking over at the closet across the room that had started it all.

“I do.” He chuckled, making you smile as your brain took you back to the event that had taken place only a few months prior, in this very room.

“Hey.”

Looking up from the heap of clean clothes at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you had eyed a pouty Jungkook, raising your eyebrows at his expression as his eyes briefly fixed on the clothes before focusing back on your face as he shuffled into your bedroom. 

The tone and facial expression that Jungkook greeted you with had your eyes widened slightly, examining his approaching stature, his eyes squinted at you accusingly.

“Hi.” You responded, laying Jungkook’s clean boxers on your thigh to straighten the fabric before you creased it.

“Are you hiding something from me?” He asked, causing you to tip your head in confusion as you stared back at him, bottom lip jutted out slightly. 

“Not that I know of, no.” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised at that, walking further into the bedroom to approach where you sat on the mattress folding a fresh load of clean clothes. 

You watched as his eyes searched the pile, sighing dejectedly before turning back toward the closet to rummage through it some more. 

“What are you up to?” You asked, Jungkook’s actions stalling only a bit when he picked up on the annoyed tone you used at his messing up of the rack of clothes in there. 

“I’m looking for my hoodie.” He explained his actions, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back. 

Jungkook seemed to have an emotional attachment to each and every one of his hoodies, even though he had hundreds to speak of. Every time you borrowed one, he tracked you down and made you give it back. 

It was never in a mean way; he only wanted his stuff returned, and you understood that. But at a certain point, it was just annoying. 

“Which one are you looking for?” 

“It’s the black one with the blue flames on the hood.” He recalled, scanning the row of clothes for the design before grunting in disapproval upon coming up empty-handed. 

Shaking your head, you sighed as you diverted your eyes back to the clothes awaiting folding. You could still hear the man rummaging through the plethora of hung items over your music, pressing your lips together in slight annoyance at the stubborn man. 

The closet in your bedroom was now a fifty-fifty split of your clothes and Jungkook’s. You couldn’t recall when he had started keeping clothes there; you suppose it just happened naturally as he spent more and more time with you. 

In fact, you were going on two years. You had picked up his habits and him some of yours, you knew all his little quirks and vice versa. Including his necessity for keeping all his precious hoodies in check. 

“Why must you fret about each and every one of your hoodies' temporary absences?” You sighed, the man mumbling an “ouch” as something fell out onto his foot. 

“Because I know someone,” he looked back to you for emphasis, “likes to steal them and then I never get them back. I swear you’re renting a storage locker for my hoodies just so I can’t find them here.” 

At his dramatics, you merely sighed again, going back to folding your t-shirt before you paused, looking up to stare at the back of his head. 

Thinking back, you could picture the black hoodie in a heap on his bedroom floor the other day, tossed aside after some activities between you two and obviously forgotten about by your boyfriend. 

“Did you check your place?” You asked, Jungkook’s actions pausing at your words before he slowly spun around to you. 

His face was plagued with guilt, cheeks full in a different kind of pout than the bratty one he’d greeted with as his sweet doe eyes came out to play. 

“Ugh, sorry.” He said, cheeks heated before he made his way over to you, landing on the mattress with his head resting on your thigh. 

You chuckled at the embarrassed pout on his face as he nestled his head into your leg, staring up at you with a ‘hmph.’

“I just can’t seem to keep track of what’s at mine or yours.” He explained, you nodding with a fond smile as you brushed hair back from his face. 

“I know. You just get so damn protective over those hoodies.” You teased, the man scrunching his nose at your cooing tone. 

“It is really difficult to keep track of what is where.” He sighed, looking up at you with a gleam in his eye that told you he was thinking something he wasn’t saying. 

“It is. What’s going on in here, baby?” You tapped your pointer finger against the crown of his head, the man smiling shyly as he grabbed your hand in his. 

“Why don’t we,” he trailed off, hoping you’d get his hint so he didn’t have to come out and actually say it. When you only stared at him in response, he sighed, shaking his head to negate what he’d been saying causing you to grab his wrist with a pout.

“Why don’t we what?” You asked, jutting your bottom lip out at the disappointed look on your boyfriends face, smoothing your thumb over the corner of his mouth to ease his frown. 

“Well, you know,” he shrugged, “since it’s so hard going back and forth between each other’s places,” he trailed off, groaning when you only smiled back at him, eyebrows raised in amusement as you waited for him to continue. 

The look on your face told him you knew. The gleam in your eye told him you knew exactly what he was trying to articulate. 

“Baby,” He groaned, realizing you were messing with him as you pulled begging eyes down at him. He removed his hand from yours, pulling it away with a pout as you chuckled at his reaction.

“What, Kook? What’s on your mind?” You continued playing dumb, wanting to drag the words you’ve been waiting so long to hear out from the man. 

“C’mon, why are you making me say it if you already know?” He whined, you giggling as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Because I want to hear it from you. And I like seeing you squirm.” You smirked, the man scoffing underneath you as he recaptured your hand in his own. 

“Baby, my sweet angel, the brightest star in the entire universe-“ 

“Jungkook!” You laughed, lightly squeezing his hand as you grinned down at him, his teeth shining up at you as he shyly blushed at the words in his brain. 

“Can we move in together?”

“Hm,” you hummed, the man’s eyes bulging as he slightly panicked beneath you, “give me some good reasons to.” You smirked again, your boyfriend gasping at your words before he took control, flipping you over to hover above your frame as you squealed at the sudden action. 

“You brat.” He leaned his forehead down to yours, effectively silencing you with a kiss to your lips, your fingers tickling at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“For one,” he started, “you wouldn’t have to hear me complaining about my missing hoodies anymore. I can make a mean cup of tea, I’m really good at laundry, I-”

You cut the man off with a press of your lips to his, silencing him with a muffled noise as his hand squeezed at your hip. 

“You don’t have to give me any reasons.” You mumbled against his lips, feeling them curl into a small smile as he made a noise of delighted surprise. He knew you were only teasing, but he couldn’t believe you hadn’t dragged it out longer. 

“Really?” He grinned, causing you to giggle beneath him out of sheer fondness.

“Yeah, I’ll move in with you.” 

“Really, really?” He grinned, his doe eyes sparkling at you as you nodded to confirm, laughing at the man’s goofy repetition of the question you’d already answered. 

“So, we’re actually doing this? We’re moving in together?” He raised his eyebrows, face melting into a grin as you brushed his hair back from his forehead. 

“I think we’re ready, don’t you?” You smiled, the look of absolute happiness on your boyfriends face almost making you tear up as he all but hugged you to his frame. 

“I know we’re ready, baby.” He nodded, kissing you again as you both continued smiling like idiots. 

“Wait, how do we do this?” You asked, Jungkook furrowing his brows as he pondered your question.

“Huh. I don’t know.” He chuckled, you giggling along with him before sighing in thought. 

“Do we want to look for a new apartment altogether?” You wondered aloud, Jungkook bouncing his head back and forth in thought, hair moving with his head. 

“We could. Do you really want to leave here, though?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise when you shrugged in response, raising your hand to cup his cheek lovingly.

“I don’t care where I live as long as you’re with me. What about your place?” You offered, Jungkook mirroring your earlier response with a quirk of his shoulders up to his face. 

“You’re my home.” He put simply, laughing when your bottom lip jutted into a pout, pressing kisses over your face as your eyes filled with water out of pure adoration for the man. 

At the memory, you felt your eyes water again, looking up at Jungkook with a pout. Your boyfriend, wrinkling his nose at your expression, poked at your bottom lip, tutting his tongue at you.

“What happened to not caring where you lived as long as I’m with you?” He teased, squeezing your shoulder with a smile.

“I still feel that way, Kookie.” You assured him with a grin, taking his hand as he wiggled his fingers out to you.

“Good. We’re going to create so many more memories in our new home, I promise.” He said, baring his teeth to you again as he felt you squeeze your fingers around his hand.

“I know. I can’t wait to create more memories with you.” You sighed dreamily, leaning in for another chaste kiss on the man’s tempting pout. 

“So,” he leaned his forehead against yours, “are you feeling ready to leave now?” 

His words were soft, but they weren’t spoken with tentativeness. There was obvious excitement in his tone, an emotion that had you wanting to spring off your bay window and never look back. 

“Let’s go.” You smiled, coming to a stand as Jungkook remained seated, grinning at you in amusement at your sudden change in attitude about leaving this place. 

“Alright, boss.” 

With a grunt, he came to his feet, never letting go of your hand as you made your final stroll through the apartment together. 

Passing through the years’ worth of memories within the walls, you both took a silent few steps before pausing in the entryway, giving the place one last glance before meeting each others eyes with small, matching smiles.

Turning the handle to your front door for the last time, you let the latch slide closed like you had so many times before, tick-tick tacking as it came to a secure shut.

Shutting the door behind you, simultaneously opening a new one. 

[vukovich]

peculiar prompt: soulmate au where your dick is the same exact length as your soulmate’s (i guess everyone has a dick in this universe idk 😂) anyways drarry discovering they are soulmates in whatever convoluted way you would like!

Nine and Three Quarters

Summer weddings were an unlikely tradition for a family that ran high to freckles and sunburns, but Harry didn't mind. Usually.

This wedding, though, he'd have just as soon not attended. It wasn't that he harbored any romantic intentions toward Charlie, but seeing him so bloody happy made Harry keenly aware of his own solitude.

Charlie and Constantin fed each other forkfuls of cake and grinned. They were perfectly-matched. Identical white short sleeve dress shirts and gold waistcoats, sparkling blue eyes and mirrored grins as they threatened each other with blobs of icing, much to Molly's horror.

Their matching gold rings felt like an extension of the tattoos on the underside of their left forearms. Charlie's was a dragon, of course. Constantin's was a crouched hippogriff. They were exactly the same size, but different designs and colors.

Forearm tattoos abounded among gay wizards, but it had taken seeing Charlie and Constantin together for him to notice the pattern. A plate of cake floated to his table and set itself down in front of him. He picked it apart with his fork, separating the layers of frosting out from the the cake, then mashed the fluffy cake down into a pellet.

A breathless Charlie flopped into an empty chair next to him and surveyed the wreckage on his plate.

"Got a grudge against that cake?"

"Huh? Oh. No. Sorry."

Charlie slid Harry's cake away, probably for its own good. Constantin and Fleur fox-trotted past, and one of them reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair.

"No date?"

"Nah." Harry licked his fork clean, rolled the bits of cake around in his mouth, and wished he'd have eaten the slice.

"Still doing the playboy thing, eh?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

Charlie huffed a laugh. "You guess? What else would you be doing at clubs?"

Harry shrugged again.

"Well, if you get tired of it and want the name of a really good soulmate tattoo artist, let me know." Charlie wiped up a dab of frosting off Harry's plate and popped his finger in his mouth. "Until then, enjoy hunting in the dark."

Charlie rose to leave, but Harry reached out and grabbed him by the buckle on the back of his waistcoat.

"Soulmate tattoos?"

--

--

"But I thought the tattoo went on my arm."

Harry kept his hands in his jeans pockets, just in case the man decided to help him disrobe.

"It does..."

Bushy grey eyebrows rose in speculation, and the man's brown eyes squinted at Harry, unsure of whether Harry was playing a prank, playing dumb, or playing at nothing.

"So why would I take my trousers off?"

"Riiiggght," he said slowly, gently spinning back and forth on his stool. "Why don't you tell me what you do know about soulmate tattoos."

Harry hooked his thumbs in his pockets and looked around the tattoo parlour for clues, but there was nothing but drawings on the walls. Pictures of forearms, too, all with differing sizes of beasts and creatures on them.

"Uhm," Harry started, "they go on forearms." The man nodded and motioned for him to continue. "And... they're... magic?"

The man shook his head and sighed. "The death of gay wizard culture, I swear. I blame that app."

"Wait, there's an app for-"

"Soulmate tattoos are the size of the wearer's dick."

Every tattoo Harry had ever seen ran through his head at once, and he stood slack-jawed for what felt like hours.

The man continued. "And so part of getting one is getting your dick measured. Professionally."

"I... Uh..."

"Men lie on the app. That's why all these boys are running around thinking they don't have soulmates, but older men know better. Back in the day, we'd just walk up to a bloke, line our arms up, and pair off."

Harry looked at the ceiling and tried to imagine a scenario in which that didn't sound both terrifying and oddly comforting.

"Why would you line them up?"

The man stared at him for a long. fucking. time.

"Soulmate dicks match, kid." He grumbled something about the Internet. "Now do you want the tattoo or not?"

"I... Uhm... Maybe later?"

"Suit yourself."

--

There had to be a better way to do this.

Harry balanced on tip-toe, focused on his dick with one eye, and dipped his quill. His tongue peeked out a corner of his lips as he concentrated on tracing around his shaft.

Was the quill angled accurately? Was the nib too far from his skin to be accurate? Was width even relevant?

He let out a held breath and dropped down to his heels. The paper on his desk was an embarrassment.

"Looks like a fucking caterpillar," he grumbled to himself.

Maybe they made enchanted quills for this.

--

The nook of art supplies at Flourish and Blotts was overwhelming, but it smelled good. Needle-sharp enchanted nibs sounded like a terrible idea. Image-grabbing paper sounded equally dangerous. What if he got his dick stabbed or absorbed into a piece of paper?

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Can I help you?"

Draco Malfoy met his eyes with a hesitant smile. He looked strangely at home surrounded by paper and ink. He wore a rumpled black t-shirt that advertised in bold white letters "Truth Quills: The Reign of Error Ends Here".

"Uhm... maybe?"

"What kind of project are you working on?"

"I'm... just... tracing something?"

Draco nodded and reached up to grab a pack of nibs just above Harry's head. The Dark Mark on his forearm caught Harry's eye. It wasn't a Dark Mark anymore. The skull wore a crown of red roses, and the snake had been filled in with vibrant yellow and blue markings. Harry decided it looked a bit like a Grateful Dead album cover. But prettier.

"These are good for most projects if you're just starting out."

Draco handed him a plastic box with more thingamajigs than he had any idea what to do with.

"Uhm, okay. Thanks."

"No problem." Draco's eyes wandered down to Harry's forearm and his smile faltered. "Anything else?"

"No, I think I'm good."

--

He wasn't good. He was nowhere near good, and he had black ink all over his dick. Also on his hands, and the table, and the floor, but those were less important.

"Looks like a goddamn Holstein dong."

--

"Alright," Draco said, and his smile was bordering on a smirk. "But what's the reference? What are you trying to trace?"

A dozen dick-shaped things came to mind, and Harry blurted, "A banana."

Draco did not laugh. Not with his mouth. Just with his eyes. His t-shirt today said "Blink Ink: Drier than your ex" in jagged black script.

"Mm hm," Draco squeaked through his nose. "Is accuracy important?"

Harry let out a relieved sigh. "Yes."

Draco cleared his throat and schooled his face. "Here."

He handed Harry a Truth Quill. "That ought to give you an accurate outline of your... banana."

--

"Hot damn!"

Harry held the outline of his cock up to the light. Damned if it wasn't perfect. He laid it face-down on his forearm and frowned. How was he supposed to get it onto his skin?

--

Draco faked a cough and covered his mouth and nose with his hand. "Pardon?"

"I need to transfer it."

"But a backlight won't work because..."

"Uhm... it can't... light can't go through the... other... thing."

Draco's t-shirt today had a frilly, looping font that said, "Nearotica: Almost There."

"Dare I ask what material you're transferring this banana onto?"

Harry focused on Draco's forearm, and the curve of the roses, and the sinewy body of the snake.

"Uhm... leather?"

Draco shot him a challenging look Harry didn't understand. "I suppose you'd want a cautery tool for that."

"Uhm... okay."

--

He wasn't okay. He had two burned dots on his forearm, and a hole in his paper at the base and tip of the outline.

Over a hundred galleons spent, and all he had to show for it were what looked like two mosquito bites that were exactly one penis-length apart.

The hell with all of it.

--

Harry dropped bags of barely-used art supplies on the store counter, and Draco's chin snapped up. He cocked his head and looked at the bags while Harry read his t-shirt: "Thrill Your Darlings: Tropes and Nopes."

"Didn't work out?" Draco asked.

Harry bent down, rested his elbows on the counter, and shook his head. "Can I return it?"

Draco shrugged. "Store credit, since it's all been opened."

Harry buried his face in his hands. "I'll take it in coloring books."

"I'll throw in some markers."

Draco shot him a pitying smile and stood to collect the bags. His eyes caught on the two burn marks on Harry's forearm. He set his elbow next to Harry's and pressed their wrists together.

"Huh," Draco exhaled. He rolled his tattoo against Harry's forearm. The peak of the rose crown touched the mark nearest Harry's wrist, and the snake's tail met the other.

Harry stared at their arms, wide-eyed and panicked in the best way.

"Is it-" Harry started. "Do they, uhm..."

"I... do believe so. If your banana outline was accurate."

Harry gulped. "It was."

"Huh," Draco repeated. "Well, in that case, there's a giant mandala coloring poster I've had my eye on, but it's a bit much for one person."

Harry let a grin spread across his face. "Consider it sold."

[joysmercer]

technically canon-compliant in the sense that nothing in canon suggests it didn’t happen (i think) but…well. 

“Ah, there we go,” Charles says, turning off the stove. He balances the pancakes, fruit bowls, and syrup holders carefully on a tray and walks over to the dining table, where two little girls in tutus and plastic crowns beam up at him. “Breakfast-for-dinner is ready for my favorite-est four-year-olds in the whole world. Have you chosen the plates you want?”

He would normally serve them on regular tableware, but Kara had insisted on buying about ten different sets of disposable party plates the last time they went shopping, and, well, he isn’t in the business of saying “No” to his granddaughter.

“I want the gla—galaxy!” she immediately shouts out, obviously excited to use the new word she’d learned.

“Now, Kara, remember, we have a guest with us. What do we say?” Charles asks sternly.

“Oh, sorry. Nina, pick yours?” Kara looks at Charles, and he smiles in confirmation, so she continues, “There’s a castle, a space one—that’s mine—some princesses, and, um—”

“Look, Nina, we’ve got a bunch of shiny colored ones too,” Charles says, opening the cupboard for Kara’s friend to see. The girl only furrows her brow. “Would you like me to choose for you?” he asks kindly.

Nina shakes her head and points to a stack hidden towards the back. “What’s that one?” she asks quietly. 

Charles draws out the golden plates and almost drops them in shock. He doesn’t remember buying these; in fact, he’s certain he saw them and immediately steered his cart in the other direction. Quickly regaining his composure, he says, “It’s a treasure chest. See all the jewels and gold coins on it?”

“Why’s there a cup in the middle?”

Charles winces internally. Uh oh. “That’s called a goblet. It’s a very fancy cup kings and queens used to drink out of.”

Nina nods and smiles. “I want that.”

He grabs the two requested designs and puts them on the tray, then walks over to the table. “Now, for Pr—”

“Do the voice! Do the voice!” Kara interrupts.

Charles laughs. “I’m sorry, my dear.” He starts again, forcing himself to revert to his native British accent. “Now, for Princess Kara Tatiana”—Kara swings her legs in anticipation—“one star-shaped pancake with sides of blueberries and maple syrup,” he declares, placing said items on her plate.

Kara picks up her fork, but he shakes his head at her. “Princesses always wait for their guests to be served too,” he reminds her. Kara nods solemnly and puts it back down.

Charles walks to the other side of the table. “And now, for Princess Nina, one heart-shaped pancake with strawberries and chocolate syrup.” He smiles at both of them and claps his hands. “You may eat!”

“Why’d you want that plate?” He hears Nina ask through a mouthful of fruit as he starts washing up.

“It’s pretty. I wish it had the moon too. That’s my favorite star.”

“Yeah. My plate’s pretty too.” 

It’s strange, Charles muses internally, how children always seem to know their own destinies when adults never do. He then resolves to take Kara to the local children’s museum so she learns the difference between a satellite and a star.

Just then, the doorbell rings. “Gran!” Nina exclaims, running to the door. Charles opens it for her and Nina runs forward, hugging her grandmother around the waist.

“Hi, Nina! Did you have fun in preschool today?” Evelyn asks. She smiles at Charles. “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Billy was the only one who got in trouble today ’cuz he kept throwing beads when we were making necklaces,” Kara chimes in. “It wasn’t very nice.”

“Gran, look what I made!” Nina excitedly shows her a beaded chain around her neck. “Look, I put all the colors on it!”

“Oh, how pretty!” Evelyn kneels down and examines it carefully, ooh-ing and aah-ing. “You’re quite the artist.”

Nina giggles and Evelyn stands back up and looks at Charles. “I can’t thank you enough. It took a lot longer at the realtor’s than I thought it would, and I didn’t know what else to do but ask Lisa to pick this one up too,” she says, ruffling Nina’s hair. “I didn’t know she was working late and you were babysitting; I never would have asked otherwise.”

“Oh, no. It wasn’t a problem at all,” Charles says. “Nina’s a sweetheart.”

Still, Evelyn looks apologetic. “The way the real estate market is these days, you just don’t want to take any chances, especially so close to the end.”

“So you’re really moving, then?” Charles asks, hoping he sounds far more casual than he feels.

“Next week, actually.” Evelyn smiles wistfully. “Nina’s going to miss seeing Kara every day, that’s for sure.”

“And I’m sure Kara feels the same way,” he responds, his throat catching on the last word. From the look on Evelyn’s face, he knows that she knows he wasn’t really talking about his granddaughter.

A few seconds pass before Evelyn pulls her gaze away from his and pats Nina on the head. “D’accord, ma chérie, go put your shoes on.” Once Nina sits on the porch, light-up sneakers in hand, Evelyn quickly steps forward and places a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Charlie.”

In a perfect world, you will, he thinks, briefly imagining them in a decade’s time, next to each other in the audience of their grandchildren’s graduation ceremony. He just has to figure out how to get to England before the cancer takes him first.

_____

if anyone’s curious about the paper plate designs, I was imagining them something like this: 

KT’s

Nina’s, but with a small goblet drawing somewhere near the middle

[apricotbuncakes]

🏳️‍⚧️ Luigi is Trans Masc 🏳️‍⚧️

Long Post!!!

Now that I have your attention, here are some reasons that I headcanon Luigi as trans, based off of my own experience as a trans masc person.

1) He ghosts hunts even when he has the option to say no.

Could this be a ‘I have to save my loved ones from danger’ or a ‘this is the right thing to do even though I’m scared’ situation? Yeah! But I’m trans and grasping for straws, so let me have this.

I put this as a reason for him being trans, because I believe he’s doing it because he’s a man and he’s ‘not supposed to be afraid’.

Luigi is assumed to be 24, and his character was first introduced in the 1980s, specifically 1983. Assuming he was 24 when the first game released, he would have been born in 1959 (feel free to check my math on that).

Although his character was introduced in the 80s where men tended to be more feminine and flamboyant, he was probably raised with the idea that men should be tough and strong, and should lead. Even if we throw release date and age aside, even if he was born in my generation, those stereotypes of men still exist and are taught within society. Even as those norms are being broken day after day, he would have still been exposed to the toxic masculinity.

Luigi, from what we’ve seen of his adventures, tends to be more scared and less ‘tough’ than what was expected of a man. From what we know of Luigi, we can safely assume that (if he was trans) he would be doing this not only for his family and friends, but to prove he was tough and strong, and that he was manly.

2) He dresses like his brother.

Yes, he is a plumber by trade, but he also ghosts hunts, and makes bank off of that. You think he would wear a different outfit when he ghost hunts simply because denim Isn’t meant for physical activity. Anyone who’s run in jeans knows that it isn’t exactly meant to be stretchy. It’s (supposed to be) designed to withstand the test of time. So why doesn’t Luigi change from plumbing cloths (specifically his denim overalls) to something more suited for the running he has to do in various places for ghost hunting? Because Mario wears overalls and a t-shirt.

From what I’ve seen on social media, other trans people follow the lead of those around them who match their gender identity/their presentation. I would do the same was well. I would look at what my dad wore, what my brother would wear, and what guys at school wore. I developed my style after what I had seen, so I could pass.

While you don’t have to pass to be trans (or even have the desire to), it’s a common theme amongst trans people to try and blend in with cis society. This can be for safety reasons, or just because they want to fit in with their peers.

Luigi clearly looks up to his brother, crying tears of joy whenever Mario is saved from King Boo. He congratulates him when he wins events. He supports him, because he looks up to him. They’re brothers after all!

It makes sense that Luigi would mirror Mario, since they are so close. Since Mario is most often seen wearing his overalls, Luigi follows suit, because it’s what he believes guys do. He’s following the example that Mario set for him.

3) Luigi’s view on gender expression.

Luigi has had a couple of instances where he is known to ignore typical gender stereotypes, specifically with dresses.

In the game super Mario Odyssey, Mario can be seen wear a wedding gown with a veil, and Luigi is only concerned that Mario didn’t tell him about the wedding. There was no wedding, and Luigi didn’t mock Mario when informed that his brother was wearing the gown for fun.

The second major instance is from the New Super Mario Bros. U Deluxe website. The website tells us that only Toadette can use the Super crown. The last part of the Super Crown’s description says “Sorry Luigi- Only Toadette can use this item!”

While this could point to Luigi being trans fem instead of trans masc, I would like to point out that recently, it has become more accepted that men can dress feminine. Since this game was released in 2019, it’s completely possible that Luigi has caught onto this, and is becoming more accepted and accepting of his femininity as a man. This would also be plenty of time to unlearn harmful stereotypes from when he was younger, about what men can and can’t do. Although he still sticks with old habits, he’s learning more about how the world around him works, and how it’s changing day by day.

I believe that Luigi has a better understanding of gender and gender expression because he is trans. He’s learning to accept that he doesn’t have to be hyper masculine to be a valid guy.

4) How he got his mustache and flat chest (and… other stuff).

This section will be discussing the effects of hormones, surgeries, and genitalia. Please keep this in mind as you read.

This is more of an explanation for how certain things happened.

How did he grow a mustache? Testosterone. It was likely after helping his brother with his career, and winning sporting events he had a good amount of income to start Testosterone. Another option? Minoxidil. Minoxidil was tested to see if it could cure ulcers in the 50s. Through testing, The Upjohn Company discovered it opened blood vessels and allowed for blood to flow more smoothly. In the late 70s, it was FDA approved for patients to use if they suffer from high blood pressure. Through this, they discovered that minoxidil also has the side effect of hair growth. The FDA approved the product to be sold, and it was called Rogaine. Meaning Luigi would have had access to something to grow facial hair, even if testosterone wasn’t an option.

What about his flat chest?

Binding or Top surgery. Both were an option by the time Luigi was old enough. Laurence Michael Dillon was a trans person who was born in 1915 and died in 1962. While I do recommend you look at more of his story, what I want to focus on is the fact he had top surgery. While the surgery was still fairly early in it’s development, it was possible. Luigi, who wasn’t born until 1959 (as previously discussed) would have the option to get top surgery when he became an adult.

Another option would be binding, though I think this is less likely because of how binding restricts physical activity. Binding in any way makes it difficult to run or exert yourself in general. We see Luigi run a LOT in various games, and for decent amounts of time too. It’s less likely that he’s binding.

The last thing is his penis.

There was a huge joke going around about the bulge we saw in a promotion for Mario Tennis Aces. People were discussing how large it was, and Even Mattpat on Game Theory discussed the measurements to determine how large it was.

Why was it so noticeable? Well bottom surgery was also an option for him pretty early on. Surgeons (from what I’ve been told be social media) will ask how you’d like to look like. Even if he decided to not get bottom surgery, he could be wearing a packer.

A packer is anything you use to give the feeling and or appearance of a penis, specifically used by trans masc people who were not born with a penis. There are many different types of packers (including clean rolled up socks) that people may use. What’s most important to note though, is they have a high chance of moving around.

Even with harnesses or underwear specifically designed to keep a packer in place, they can still shift around in your pants, especially when you’re doing a lot of moving. From my experience, my packers tent to move forward rather than back. Wearing athletic shorts will also make that area more pronounced as the fabric is looser, so if Luigi was wearing a packer, we’d know.

5) He’s trans cause I say so.

Like I said in the beginning, it’s a head canon. I say he’s trans because it’s a cool idea. A Nintendo character that is trans, and isn’t being hidden, explained away, or made fun of (like Vivian from Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door). I like the idea that Luigi is a proud trans guy, and we don’t know because it doesn’t matter. He’s a guy because he’s a guy. He doesn’t just ‘become’ a guy because he goes through surgeries or goes in hormones. He’s trans, and t doesn’t matter if we know or not, because his trans identity isn’t important to the story we’re playing, or our knowledge to know. We aren’t entitled to it.

He’s a guy who happens to be trans, and that’s that.

If there is any misinformation above, please let me know so I can correct it. This was meant to be a fun post about my head canon, but I did use real world examples t explain it, and if I got something wrong, I’d like to know. Thanks!