#the plot is stirring her towards the prince but girl you can do better..why fall in love with a narcissist....

[xinyuehui]

Minmin is done 🙃 get her out of here!

[asmo-ds]

(1) i tried to think of a belphie one so here it is, sorry if it kinda bad👉🏻👈🏻 mc has been begging belphie to go to the human realm for xmas tgt but he isn't very sure about it since he did try to kill mc. since mc knows how much he used to love the human realm and humans he probably also loved xmas, they thought he would be excited to go.

How to Love Christmas Again

Belphegor x gn!MC

Word Count: 4295

Genre: Fluff

Summary: As the holiday season rolls around, MC requests to go back home and spend Christmas at their apartment in the human world. Diavolo agrees on the condition they bring a brother to protect them since they have pact marks yet no knowledge of how to use them. Who better to bring then their sleepy boyfriend, Belphegor, even if it means they have to avoid all other humans the whole week!

“Oh right, I almost forgot that was today,” A young Belphegor reaches under his bed to pull out the gift boxes Lucifer had helped him wrap for his twin and the young girl. Beel runs to his own bed bringing out his own gifts for his siblings.

“Did you wrap these yourself, Lilith?” Beel giggles as he observes the horror show of wrapping paper around his gift from her.

“Did you wrap these yourself, Lilith?” Beel giggles as he observes the horror show of wrapping paper around his gift from her.

“Did you wrap these yourself, Lilith?” Beel giggles as he observes the horror show of wrapping paper around his gift from her.

“Did you wrap these yourself, Lilith?” Beel giggles as he observes the horror show of wrapping paper around his gift from her.

“Well… I tried to but had trouble, so I asked Mammon and Leviathan for help - but then Leviathan got wrapped up in tape and it just turned into a mess,” she giggles with a blinding smile. “Anyways open your gifts!”

Belphegor watches as Beel unwraps the gift from their baby sister, revealing a box of freshly baked cookies she had made that morning. Beelzebub gave her a hug thanking her before he moved to watch Belphegor open his gift from Lilith.

He unwrapped the gift and saw a soft pillow covered in the pattern sported by cows. He smiles wide and wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace. 

“I sewed it myself, I hope it is soft enough,” she smiles at him. 

After they opened their gifts from Beel, a new blanket for Belphegor, and a new dress for Lilith, they moved on to Belphegor’s gifts.

“Don’t call me cheesy, okay?” He blushes as they pull out the shiny golden necklaces. Beelzebub held a necklace with a charm shaped like a sun and Lilith’s sporting a star. Belphie reached down his shirt and pulled out the necklace he had gotten for himself, a moon-shaped charm resting on the chain. 

“Belphie these are beautiful!” Lilith exclaims as Belphegor puts it around her neck.

“Think of these as a promise. A promise that we’ll always protect each other.”

The three sat in the circle agreeing and swearing to protect each other no matter the cost.

The Celestial war was the last time he saw those stars. He watched as the necklace flew off of her chest, blood splatter landing on it as the arrow penetrated her wing. He watched as the chain snapped from the force of Lilith’s body flying backward. He watched as he broke his promise to protect her-

-

Belphie sat straight up, breathing heavily as he woke up from the flashback. He stared straight ahead as he tried to refocus his breathing. Despite the darkness of the attic - he could see the outline of a person next to him. He glanced down at MC as he turned on a lamp. He grabbed their face and checked their pulse, letting out a sigh of relief as they stirred, blinking away the sleep from their tired eyes. 

“Belphie? You ok?” MC reaches up to wipe a tear he hadn’t even realized fell from his violet eyes.

He couldn’t respond, his mouth open as nothing but a choked sob came out. MC sat up and pulled him against their chest, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Another nightmare?” they ask, receiving a shaky nod in return. Belphegor looks at the digital clock that rested beside his bed and reads the numbers.

It was 2:03 AM on December 20th.

-

The next morning, MC and Belphie arrived at breakfast. “MC, the human world holiday season has arrived, Diavolo wants you to be prepared to talk to him this morning about how we can incorporate these human world festivities into our home to make you more comfortable during your stay,” Lucifer announces as MC helps him clean the dishes. 

“Actually… I was wondering if perhaps I could go home. Just for a week or so to see family and be in my own home. Christmas is special for me and I don’t really want to spend it in Hell.” 

Lucifer looks surprised at their request and opens his mouth, most likely to protest the idea saying it would be a hazard to send MC out to the human world, but he is interrupted by another voice, one belonging to the demon prince himself.

“Of course you can go home for the holidays! Though it may be riskier for you seeing as you now have pacts with all seven demon brothers yet have no idea how to use them. So I will allow you to go home but you will have to take a brother with you,” Diavolo states, causing Lucifer to turn around in surprise.

“I will go with them Diavolo I am the only one who can be trusted-”

“No Lucifer, this is a special holiday and I want you to allow MC to choose for themselves for once.”

MC’s mind immediately goes to Belphie. They thank Diavolo with a big hug due to their excitement and run up towards the attic in search of their sleepy boyfriend. 

“Belphie! Belphie!” They jump on the pile of blankets that hid his body beneath them.

“What?” He groans.

“Diavolo said I could go home for a week to celebrate Christmas!” They exclaim and he gives them a half-assed smile.

“Cool. Have fun,” He turns over intending to go back to sleep and not wake up until after the season has passed.

“He said I have to take a brother with me though, so I figured, you used to love the human world so why don’t you join me?” They smile sweetly at him.

He tenses and looks at the ground, avoiding their pleading eyes. “I can’t.”

“But why?!” They whine.

“Because… because I don’t want anybody to get hurt.” He turns to look at MC and they see the fear in his eyes, “what if I get angry again? What if I kill an innocent human while we’re there. MC I can’t go, I don’t want to hurt anybody-”

“Well then we’ll just have to stay inside, no big deal,” they shrug as if they hadn’t a care in the world. “I’ll go food shopping the first day so that we can eat, then we’ll hide out in my apartment all week watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa and all that jazz.”

Belphegor looks at them with hope in his eyes as he contemplates whether or not to join them on their journey. 

“You pinky promise we won’t leave the apartment?” He looks at them with a very serious look, and they lean forward, lightly bonking their forehead against his. 

“I swear on my soul.” They state before leaning their head down to kiss him softly.

-

As they prepared to depart for their trip, Lucifer would not stop nagging Belphegor like a mom sending their kid off to summer camp.

“Don’t talk to any humans you don’t know, do you have mittens?! You can’t go without mittens, Belphegor, demons aren’t built for the cold you have to bundle up or else you’ll-” he is interrupted by Belphegor loudly saying his goodbye as he and MC stepped through the portal, landing in front of the apartment building where MC resided. The portal closed behind them and MC grabbed his hand, leading him into their apartment carrying his luggage.

“MC! Long time no see!” the security guard at the front desk smiles widely at them, “you on break from your exchange program in Sweden- or wherever it was you went- for the holidays?” He stands up and walks around the desk to talk more casually to the human.

“George! Yes I’m back, and this is my boyfriend, Belphie, I met him in the exchange program,” MC wraps themselves around Belphegor’s arm as he looks down shyly, afraid to look at any human other than MC.

“Nice to meet ya, Belphie. I’m George, you’ll probably see me a lot since I'm the head of security in this building,” the man reaches his hand out to shake Belphegor’s. Belphie nervously looks at MC who takes the hint and pipes up.

“Sorry about him! He’s Swedish, so he doesn’t really understand, plus he’s a germaphobe so he doesn’t shake hands,” they smile apologetically at the security guard who lowers his hand and gives a nod. 

“Tell him I said to enjoy his stay,” George says before walking off.

“Hey Belphie, George says to-”

“Yea I heard him, stupid,” he pokes MC’s cheek before they lead him to the elevator.

As MC reaches their front door and turns the keys they can see Belphie fidget, clearly nervous that they have yet to enter the privacy of MC’s home. 

MC uses one hand to push the door open and the other to rub their thumb soothingly over the demon’s knuckles. As soon as they shut the door it feels as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from his shoulders and he lets out a sigh.

“Ok, now that we’re here… do you want a tour?” MC chuckles, grabbing their boyfriend’s hand once more, leading him through the apartment and announcing the rooms as if they were a safari guide.

“Over here you see the bedroom. The natural habitat of an MC. The MC sleeps in this room and nearly never leaves it. This room is where things such as the mating season take place,” MC wiggles their eyebrows suggestively before giving an exaggerated wink, causing Belphegor to snort from how hard he was laughing.

“Your home is very cute, MC,” he compliments.

After picking up their room a bit and placing Belphie’s luggage in the bedroom, MC decides to set up their bed as a nest for them to cuddle in. Belphie and MC lay in the makeshift nest watching horribly hallmark Christmas movies and making fun of their plots before they eventually fall asleep, ending their first day in the human realm.

-

“Hey, be careful you three!” The white haired angel yells at three teens who run through a town decorated for Christmas.

“Woah! Belphie look!” Lilith grabs his shoulder and they look over to see a giant tree, all lit up (i know light bulbs probably didn��t exist in the era before Lilith died BUT we’re gonna pretend it do :D ) and covered in ornaments. 

“Oh, I think they’re gonna put the star on top now,” he, Lilith and Beel all push their way to the front of the crowd, ignoring Mammon calling for them to stay close to him.

“It’s so pretty!” Belphie looks at the young woman and his twin, smiling softly as they stare in awe at the shimmer lights as snow falls all around them in small soft flakes they melt on their skin. 

“I wish Lucifer, Asmo, and Leviathan weren’t so busy today-” Lilith frowns. “I know they really just didn’t want to come stand in the cold but… I really think if we could’ve convinced them to come they would have loved this.” Lilith smiles gently and looks back up at the twinkling lights of the star atop the giant pine tree before them, “I hope one day we can all see these lights together.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to get those guys down ‘ere, but ya guys got me!” Mammon catches up to them and smiles.

“Hey Mammon! Can we take a tree from the human world and decorate it at home?!” Lilith asks with a wide smile.

“Well it's a bit late this year, but next Christmas I pinky promise,” He raised his pinky towards her and they locked pinkies, bringing smiles to their faces.

But next Christmas never arrived for Lilith. It was on this trip that she met the human man who she fell for. It was mere months later that he fell ill and they were all cast down from the heavens. Bringing the death of Lilith and the birth of Satan.

-

Belphie slowly blinked as he winced away from the bright sunlight he wasn’t used to. He raised his nose to the air and smelled something good, so he stood and followed the scent to the kitchen. There he found MC in their pajamas, holding a pan with eggs over a plate that already had bacon and toast on it.

“Belphie!” They place down the pan and run to him, jumping onto him as he catches their thighs, wrapping themself around him as he holds them up, tightly embracing their small form and swinging back and forth playfully.

“Someone seems hyper this morning,” he lets go of MC and they climb down with a laugh.

 “I know you were nervous about coming here so I wanted to thank you for joining me with breakfast in bed… so go back to bed and let me surprise you!” Belphie rolls his eyes and climbs back into the bed, moments later MC enters holding the plate he had previously seen them preparing. “Tada! A traditional human world breakfast!”

They eat their breakfast and watch the news, Belphie accidentally laughing at some tragic events due to his demonic nature.

They spend some time decorating with some supplies MC had hidden away in the deepest depths of their closet. They hang a wreath on the inside of the front door and MC pulls out a fake mistletoe, hanging it on a ceiling lamp Belphie was underneath as he strung some lights around the room.

“What’s that thing?” He tilts his head upwards to look at it more closely.

“It’s a human world tradition, wanna try it out?” MC asks innocently.

“Sure why not, what do I have to do-” he’s interrupted by MC pulling his face down to his for a sweet kiss.

“It’s mistletoe, if you and someone else stand under it you have to kiss!” Belphie smiles and gives them one more kiss before looking back down into the box of decorations and spotting a star.

“Oh, this goes on top of the tree, right?” he asks and MC gives a small smile. 

“Yea but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get a tree up here by myself, so we might have to skip that part-”

“We have to have a tree! That's the best part!” Belphie suddenly bursts out, immediately blushing embarrassed by his sudden enthusiasm. “Lilith used to love the trees.”

“Oh, then I’m sure we can find a way!” MC suddenly whips out their D.D.D, pressing a few buttons before raising it to their ear. “Hey Diavolo! I need a favor-”

-

“Here you two are, have fun decorating,” Diavolo says as they finish screwing a tree he and Lucifer had hauled up to MC’s apartment.

“Honestly, I don’t think you should have called us for this,” Lucifer shakes his head with annoyance.

“Yea you shouldn’t have come to the human world for a Christmas tree, you never could do it for Lilith when she begged-” Belphie scoffs, making Lucifer shoot a glare his way.

“Lucifer and Belphie please behave yourselves, you are representing the Devildom here in MC’s apartment,” Diavolo places a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.

(from here to the dash mark is a tiny itty bitty bit of Dialuci fluff as a small little bonus)

The three men suddenly hear some snickering as MC looks above Diavolo and Lucifer, causing everyone else to look up in return. They all looked up at the mistletoe that hung above them and MC and Belphie looked at each other with mischief in their eyes.

“Oh yea, Lord Diavolo MC taught me a fun human world tradition, would you two like to give it a try,” Belphie gives an evil smirk.

“Of course, Lucifer you join too!”

As Belphegor explained the tradition Lucifer grew extremely flustered and tried to argue his way out of it, losing in the end as the demon prince was too enthusiastic to participate in human culture and kissed him on the lips with little to no hesitation.

The men left, one beaming with excitement and the other sulking but blushing.

-

MC wrapped the lights around the tree, occasionally tripping over the long tangled wire. Belphie grabbed some tinsel, tossing it around the tree as MC finished the lights.

MC pulled out the normal ornaments first, handing some to Belphie to hang alongside them.

Then they got to the ones with meaning behind them.

“Baby’s first Christmas?” Belphie reads off the ornament shaped like a cradle.

“Oh yea, that’s from my first Christmas! It has my birthstone in there as well, see!”

As they dig through the ornaments and MC tells stories behind them all he can’t help but smile as he gets to know his lover deeper than he had before.

After hours of this, they finish and star at the star that had yet to be placed on top of the tree.

“Do you want put it on, Belphie?” MC smiles up at him.

“Me? Are you sure?”

“Of course this is your first time decorating for Christmas you said so you should get the full experience!” MC hands him the star and he looks at it, a bit nervous before feeling MC’s lips on his cheek, a silent cheer of encouragement.

He climbs the step ladder MC had placed next to the tree and places the star on, plugging it into the wall as it lit up with white lights.

MC runs to turn off the lights so they can see the Christmas light better and Belphie takes a step back, a big smile on his normally sleepy face.

They stand and stare at the tree happily for a few moments before MC excuses themselves to go make dinner. Belphie lays down on the bed and decides to take a power nap while MC cooks. 

-

“Ah, I’m so sorry sir!” Lilith exclaimed as she accidentally bumped into the shoulder of a young man. 

“No worries, having a lady as breath-taking as yourself bump into me must be my Christmas gift,” the man compliments the Angel before introducing himself.

“Lilith!” Belphegor calls after having searched for them for half an hour, he finally spotted them blushing as they chatted with a human man. Her three brothers watched from afar to ensure her safety, but allowed them to hang out together for a few more minutes.

“Lilith, we need to head back home now,” Mammon interrupted the pair, bringing a frown to his baby sister’s face. He walks away to let them say their goodbyes.

“Oh, uh, sir, I would love to see you again sometime, could we perhaps meet here in the center of town in three days time?” She asks with hope in her eyes and rosy cheeks. 

“Of course, I will wait here for you to return.” Belphie overheard their goodbyes and got slight chills, happy that his sister seemed excited, but fearful because he knew that love between Angel and human was something not taken lightly.

When they got home, Belphegor and Beelzebub sat and listened to their sister speak of the man and how they were going to return and see him soon. So every three days, the four of them travelled down to the human world, creating a new tradition. One day Lilith started going by herself, more frequently and sometimes spending days in the human world, staying with her new lover.

Belphegor was so happy to see his sister happy and he thanked Christmas for existing as he knew that if it didn’t she would never have met the person who gave her so much life. But now he couldn’t help but curse the wretched holiday as it caused her to meet the person she would give her life trying to heal.

-

Belphegor woke up the next morning with MC still in bed, sleeping next to him.

He smiled down at the human and thought to himself how hypocritical he was. He had been so mad at Lilith’s lover for her death and claimed loving humans if you were not human was wrong, but here he was staring with pure adoration at a human he was proud to call his.

MC stirred and looked up into sleepy violet eyes before slightly sitting up for a kiss.

They both got ready for the day, brushing their teeth, changing into new clothes and eventually arriving in the kitchen for breakfast.

“Ok, funny story,” MC laughs nervously as they open the cabinets, meeting nothing but air, “we are out of food and I’m going to have to go shopping. So you can either stay here alone or join me. It’s completely up to you.”

Belphegor weighs his options before a small voice in the back of his head tells him to join his significant other in public and protect them from witches or other supernatural creatures that may see the pact marks that adorned their skin.

They unplug the tree to avoid a fire and bundle up to avoid hypothermia. 

MC holds his hand the whole way, soothing any nerves he had. They tried to crack some jokes to make him feel less awkward but they eventually stopped as it didn’t seem to help him. 

As they shopped Belphie’s vice grip on MC’s hand loosened to a casual hold instead of a fearful one. 

“This is actually… kind of nice,” he mumbled as he looked around at the humans shopping, some kids horsing around as their mother tried to reign them in, an old couple slowly making their way down the aisle, a father trying to make his infant laugh at his funny faces.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” MC smiles at him sweetly.

They finished up their shopping and paid for their groceries before leaving. On the way home Belphegor made MC stop so they could look at a snow covered park where parents sat and watched their children and he saw some dogs run after frisbees and snowballs their owners had thrown.

The whole way home Belphie couldn’t stop smiling as he watched humans enjoy their lives despite theirs being so short compared to his own.

Then he saw a young lady bump into a man, apologizing before they struck up a conversation. He saw Lilith and her lover for half a second before blinking and seeing the strangers once more. 

When they arrived home and got settled in, putting away the groceries and getting back into their PJs, they sat in front of the TV, watching some show MC wanted to catch up on while they were home where it aired.

A commercial came on that Belphie had seen the night before. It was a Christmas movie that was apparently a “remake” of a story about some green man in the mountains stealing a holiday. He saw on the screen it was apparently ‘in theaters now’, so he turned to the human beside him.

“Hey MC… do you think maybe we could go see that tonight?” he smiled shyly and MC sat up and gave him a soft kiss.

“Of course! I’m glad to see you finally feel good about going outside.”

“I mean… movie theaters are just dark rooms you sit in watching a giant screen for a bit,” he shrugs, clearly still a bit nervous about being around other humans.

“Ok, it is still a start though!” MC hugs him before going onto their phone and looking for movie times.

-

At the end of the movie MC and Belphie walked out hand in hand, him acting much more natural than when they had first arrived.

They returned to the apartment building and were once again greeted by the security guard, George. 

“MC! MC’s boyfriend! Have a nice date?” he smiles at the pair.

“Yes! We saw a movie!” Belphie tries to put on his best Swedish accent and watches as the security guard looks surprised. 

“Very nice!” George smiles at him, talking very slowly to ensure Belphie could understand him.

Belphie continued to communicate in short and simple sentences in his god awful attempt at an accent. After they left the lobby, MC and Belphie broke into laughter.

“That was awful” MC laughs out, clutching their stomach.

“I only knew how the accent sounded from that show you were watching last night,” he responds, also laughing very hard.

The rest of the night, Belphie and MC make plans for the remainder of their time in the human world. 

The next day they went Ice Skating, Belphie falling over a lot before finally getting the hang of it. Though, by the time he got it, he was exhausted and falling asleep on the ice. MC had to hurry home so he didn’t knock out on the sidewalk.

The day after that was Christmas, and Belphie was grateful he hadn’t had any dreams to upset him the past few days.

He had bought MC a gift before they left the Devildom and MC had left to go get him one yesterday when he fell asleep. They both handed each other gifts and unwrapped them at the same time.

“A blanket that matches my pillow!” Belphie exclaims with a big smile, holding the cow print cloth up to get a better view of it. He wraps it around himself as MC finishes getting the wrapping off of his gift to them.

“Oh wow… Belphie this is beautiful,” they lift the necklace up and place the star shaped charm in their palm.

“I had it custom made,” he pulls his own necklace out from under his shirt, “Beel has one too, the third one, that is shaped like stars too, is on Lilith’s tomb under the house. You came and changed me, MC. I want you to know I don’t see you as Lilith, but you are still a piece of my family, and I promise to protect you forever.”

Belphie was certain he would never see the blood on those stars again, he would protect MC with his life and never let them get hurt by anyone or anything.

[virgil-is-a-cutie]

The Ballad of Apple White

I liked the song and like... this fits Apple

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

Down on your knees before the Queen.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

Down on your knees before the Queen.

Senior year was the year for Apple White. She had taken Faybelle’s role as cheer captain in Junior year of Ever After High and her popularity raised much higher as she gained Darling Charming as her girlfriend because of her future role as her Princess Charming.

Apple White was a popular bitch. (Mm-hmm.)

Hot bod, hot girl, cheer captain, plus she was rich. (Oh, yeah.)

That girl had everything till hiccup and hitch:

Raven Queen lost a leg in a wreck. (Am—pu—ta—ted)

Raven had been in carriage wreck during Christmas break and had spent the rest of break in the hospital recovering. Maddie and Dexter had stayed by her side as she got better in the hospital. Everyone was shocked when they checked Evergram (EAH Instagram idk tbh) and saw Raven being held by her friends and under her long skirt it was noticeable that one of her legs were missing.

‘Poor Raven, and so close to Prom,’ Apple thought to herself when she had seen the photo. Her mind still going on about fairest and such.

‘She can’t be fairest in our tale if she’s not... fully there,’ Apple thought snidely as she finally saw her future Evil Queen. 

She steered clear of her future enemy whenever during passing period, she didn't want to see the other girl.

She was extremely excited as Prom began to be mentioned months in advance, she knew extremely well that she would be chose as Prom Queen.

She was The Next Snow White of course she had to be picked.

The nominations for Prom Royalty came (Uh-huh.)

Our Apple's Senior Year, and Queen was her claim— (Uh, duh.)

Till gossip stirred the student body would name

Raven Queen, Queen of the Prom. (Pi—ty—vote)

Apple froze as she heard the rumors of how her graduation class was going to vote for Raven Queen.

“It’s a fucking pity vote,” she hissed to herself as she watched Blondie’s blog as comments rolled about voting for Raven Queen.

She paced her dormroom and froze as her phone rang. Her stomach clenched as she saw it was from her mother.

She hugged herself as she heard her mother’s icy tone.

"Apple, " her mother said, "Life is a Prom.

I know you won't disappoint me and dad...?"

Diana had heard what had happened to her half sister, but she didn't care, all she cared about was Apple.

Apple’s reputation and popularity.

As she glared at the camera on her phone she icily told Apple to try hard.

Whites always beat the Queens during prom.

It was a well known fact and Apple can’t ruin that long generation win.

Not for a pity vote.

And certainly not to a Queen.

You taste the silver, Apple! You taste the crown.

You thirst for blood from the roses in hand.

You spoil for sash and scepter, music to dance,

As they crown you Queen of High School Land.

Apple began to plan ways she can get people to vote for her for Prom Queen. Giving cookies and such, posting up posters and other things.

She even had Blondie run campaign videos in her mirror blog.

So obsessed, our Apple near lost her mind.

To life un-Prom-related, Apple was blind;

She shoved her squad, her clique and boyfriend behind—

Still one-leg Raven held to the lead. (Poor, poor Raven)

Apple screams into her pillow as she had read the polls of the people voting for Prom Queen and had seen how close Raven was tying to her.

She wouldn’t shut up about Prom and how she deserved the title Prom Queen to her friends that even the cheer squad and her bffas got annoyed with her. 

That’s all she would talk about and all she could think about during classes. She hadn’t noticed how her grades were falling.

Her mental state was taking a toll with her inability to stop thinking about Prom.

Soon Apple's sanity was hung by a thread,

Her B.F.F.'s proclaimed her socially dead,

Till then, at last, her girlfriend texted and said:

"I'm taking Raven to the senior Prom." (Love, love Raven)

Apple looked at her MirrorPhone with a shocked wide eyes, her.... soulmate was taking her future villain to Prom.

A pity date whispered in her head and her hands trembled in anger and screams throwing her phone to the wall before freezing as she got a call. She quickly cleaned up her ruined mascara before answering her phone.

She felt a shiver run down her back and flinches at the icy tone that greeted her.

"Apple, " her mother said, "Why be so calm?

There's just no future for a Princess at Prom..."

Apple gulps as she flinches as her mother chastises her for being in a tie vote with Raven.

Diana drilled it into her head how she would be deeply disappointed on Apple if she didn't win Prom Queen.

She was already disappointed with how she had been born with blonde hair and  not ebony hair and how she didn't have Daring Charming as her prince.

You taste the silver, Apple! You taste the crown.

You thirst for blood from the roses in hand.

You spoil for sash and scepter, music to dance,

As they crown you Queen of High School Land.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

Down on your knees before the Queen.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

Down on your knees before the Queen.

She stared at the mirror in front of her, mascara running down her cheeks as she had cried her eyes out with how close Raven was being close to being chosen as Prom Queen.

She lost her friends, her grades were dropping, and her girlfriend stood her up for prom.

All because of stupid Raven Queen.

She breaths slowly and screams angrily hitting her mirror, her knuckles begin to bleed from the shards in her knuckles. 

She takes a deep breath and wipes her mouth, smearing the red lipstick she wore, her eyes frantically looking around before giggling nervously before giggling more madly with wide eyes.

Some girls are rational but Apple was not

She stared in mirrors thinking one single thought:

There's seven reasons this crown's not good as got—

And so the night of Prom, mercy! Thus went her plot:

She hums softly as she made her way into the dance floor, no one paid her any mind so no one got worried at the messy appearance Apple White had.

Arsenic was put into the fruit bowl punch in the table full of snacks. She sent a text to Blondie to tell her friends that she wanted to apologize to all of them individually. To send them one by one really.

"P" is for Poppy, drinking poisoned punch.

"R" is for Rosabelle, dashed on a rock (crunch)

"O" is what Ashlynn said when Apple bludgeoned her brains

And "M" is Meshell's marinated remains.

But! But!

A bloody baseball bat was dragged across the halls as Apple dragged a quietly sobbing friend from the cheer squad that she had texted to come and meet with her so that she could tell her how wanted to fix their friendship.

Ursela’s daughter was waiting for her in one of the empty classrooms. Asleep. She didn't want her awake for what she was going to do with her.

"Q" is for Quil, quiet, drowned in the pool.

"U" is for Euriella's pieces spread round the school

But "E's" are for the easy way in five minutes tops

A one-legg'd girl can bring an "N" for end by calling the cops.

Raven felt her magic spike up and make her body tremble as it felt as if danger was around. She was glad her mother taught her how her magic can sense danger.

She had seen the disappearing of girls who were in line for Prom Queen and frantically looking around wondering where Apple could be before she had Maddie and Dexter take her to a hidden area of the gym and called the cops.

They arrived 10 minutes later.

They even came with a SWAT team with how big Ever After High was.

You got your silver Apple, you got your crown

You got their blood on your roses in hand

You donned the sash and scepter, doing a dance,

As you crowned you Queen of High School Land!

Apple hums as she walked towards the crown that sat in the pedestal in the gym.

Students stood terrified as they watched the blood dripped into the floor from Apple’s dress and hands. They felt a shiver run down their spine when they heard the high pitched giggle from Apple as she grabbed the crown from the pedestal and squeals happily as she placed the crown on her head.

She grunts as police tackled her into the ground and cuffed her, she giggles and babbles on how she deserved the crown for Prom Queen.

She continued to giggle as she was dragged out. Mira and other parents had heard from Blondie’s blog on what was happening and had rushed to the school.

A few of the royals and villains gagged when they saw the mess that Apple had made before carefully making their way to their children.

Those that had stayed heard the screams of the parent of those that Apple had killed.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

God save the Queen...

Down on your knees before the Queen.

God save the Queen.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

The Queen of High School Land.

Down on your knees before the Queen.

The Queen of High School Land.

Diana “Snow” White watched through the glass window as Apple giggled to herself as she sat humming to herself.

Queen Diana sighed disappointed as she glanced at the straightjacket her daughter wore and sighs.

“She just had to destroy the White name,” she mumbles.

She rubbed her flat stomach, now that Apple was out of commission to play the Next Snow White, well...

She had to have a new heir.

A new daughter.

A new Next Snow White.

One she can try again to make into a perfect Snow White.

They wrapped your wrists in silver, they took your crown

As they washed your bloody fingers and hands.

Into a tight straitjacket, small padded cell,

As you screamed, "I'm Queen of High School Land!"

At least in your head, you're Queen of High School Land

Pity the dead! You're Queen of High School Land.

(Check Apple, Choose Apple, Vote for Apple White.)

(Check Apple, Choose Apple, Vote for Apple White.)

Tag: @justafanwarrior @unmaskedagain @thegayestasexual

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Erin/Gerald Arc 2 Part 15

The story continues. Erin doesn’t have a happy history or  a lot of good memories. The plot thickens. 

Master post linked here. 

The tunnels beneath the city were dark, damp and cold. Made more for defense and the quick transport of troops, no consideration was given to the occupant’s comfort, or visibility. It was not a place that one would typically enter willingly.

Erin walked quietly, staying close to the walls, her eyes wide open and alert for any possible movement within the shadows. It was a bewildering maze of passages, but Erin kept her artifact in hand, moving towards the center of town… towards Gerald’s location. Finally she came to a tunnel with two guards standing on either side of it. Their appearances only partially illuminated by magical lighting, Erin could see the masks and cloaks worn by the terrorist group.

As she prepared her ambush she studied their rigid, disciplined stance and couldn’t help wondering further. 

Is this really an anti-magic group like Frederick was thinking? What was their involvement with the prince then? Their interest in the border patrols? Nothing makes sense.

Shaking her head to clear it, Erin began. First, she tried casting an illusion, but had some difficulty holding it in place. Without strong emotions… she briefly considered thinking about what happened to Gerald to make herself angry again, but with a shudder discarded that idea. There was a dark place within her, a place filled with agony and rage, and staying far away from it was better.

It was inconvenient to not always have access to her illusion abilities, however.

Instead, She activated her physical enhancement and wind magic as much as possible, carrying herself faster than the eye could follow.

“What the…!” Before the two guards could react, both fell to the ground, one with a blade sunk into their throat, another through the eye. As blood pooled around their quickly cooling corpses, Erin quickly and emotionlessly searched their clothing for any hint of their identity. There was something familiar, each time she saw them: the way they stood, the way they moved, the way they fought. Erin couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

She continued to move forward through the dark tunnel, carefully listening for sounds of further guards up ahead, and thought about the conversation that had brought her here: 

“Erin!” Catherine had been shocked to see her show up in her room that morning, once she had left from spying on the meeting in the seventh tower. “Are you okay?”

Even as Gerald’s older sister asked after her wellbeing, Erin got the sense that the young woman was leaning away, afraid of her. She sighed quietly. It was a feeling that she knew all too well. It was the same look she had seen in the eyes of servants, soldiers, other children… anyone who had encountered her while she was still training under her father.

They had seen what she was capable of. The monster she could be. The one he had shaped in his own image.

None of this showed on her face as she smiled lightly at Catherine, pretending not to notice her fear.

“I’m fine. I hid out in the seventh tower and witnessed the meeting.”

Briefly she described the conversation between Richard and the masked man.

“That idiot!” Catherine cursed, “He’s betrayed the country!”

“What’s more important are the plans they were discussing… the ones regarding the competition later today.”

“What do you think they will do?”

“My guess is… given their previous movements, they are likely to set off an explosion… a large one. Near the stage.” Erin’s mouth went dry as she spoke about it, fear clawing at her throat as she considered that Gerald might be in danger. “We need to stop the competition, tell the king and queen.”

“No!” Catherine held up a hand, interrupting her, thinking hard. “This is an opportunity. We can’t tell anyone, because we don’t know if there are other traitors. We need to find the explosive, and disable it. If we stop the plan… it might flush out the one’s expecting the stage to blow up.”

Erin shook her head, worried. “But…”

“Let’s do it this way. One of us finds the bomb, disables it, the other stays at the event. If it’s getting close to the final round, when you said their plan was to act during, then we’ll evacuate the stage. I promise. We won’t let anyone get hurt.”

“Then I should be the one to look for the explosive.”

“Can you disable it?”

Erin’s grin was slightly off kilter, “It’s likely a fire element artifact, unless it’s level five, it will disintegrate on contact.”

“… you have level five fire abilities…?” Catherine hesitated, and then cleared her throat. “Never mind, it’s better if I don’t ask.” She leaned forward then, grabbing Erin’s hands.” “Listen, there’s a series of tunnels underneath the city, used for defense under siege. It’s a well kept secret of the royal family and their personal guard, but if Richard is a traitor… that’s the easiest way to hide something large at the event.”

“If it’s such a big secret, why are you telling me?”

A quiet laugh answered her. “My brother trusts you, so I guess I should too.”

“Fine then. I will find the artifact and destroy it, you keep an eye out to see if anyone acts suspiciously when the explosion doesn’t go off.”

Erin’s hands tightened on the other woman’s. “Make sure you evacuate the participants if I don’t succeed before the final round. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good, then I’ll trust you too.”

Now as Erin made her way under the city, ignoring the stench of stagnant water and blood. She hoped desperately that they were right in their prediction of what was about to happen. If they were wrong…? She couldn’t think about that further.

She was slightly distracted with her concerns, not recognizing she wasn’t alone until she ran into the next guard after rounding a corner. They stared at each other in shock for a moment, and then both leapt into action. Erin used wind magic to seal the sounds in the hallway, hoping to prevent the guard from calling out. She also leapt back, trying to put distance between herself and the larger man. The masked guard, his hands moving quickly, grasped a hidden blade at his side and sent it flying in her direction. Her body moved on instinct, even as the familiar action forced her to remember what she desperately didn’t want to:

Erin was twelve. It had been over a year since her mother was murdered before her eyes. Her father, once an indifferent, judging presence, was now always nearby, obsessed with making her stronger. He promised her his training methods would raise her level of ability. Any complaints or concerns were met with force. She was not allowed to refuse.

It had been more than two days since the last time Erin had slept. Sometimes she saw things in the corners of her eyes. She was never quite sure if she were awake or asleep. As awful as being awake was, she was terrified she might be asleep, terrified she might just be dreaming. If her father caught her sleeping, he would hurt her until she woke. Erin was sure she might never sleep again. How long had it been since she last ate or drank? Hunger and thirst were a constant companion along with the pain.

The pain.

A broken clavicle, multiple cracked ribs, two fingers in her left hand…each injury screamed for attention, but she didn’t dare stop, didn’t dare cry. Any hesitation could mean her death.

She was fighting again. Her father often brought soldiers from his special forces, to face her over and over. These hardened men fought without mercy, never questioning a commander that demanded they treat a young girl like an enemy.

Erin tried to activate her fire magic, but her pain and exhaustion sapped her ability, a small flame started on the soldier’s clothes and was quickly put out. He reached to his side, bringing forth a hidden blade. This was a common move, one she had seen many times before. Erin tried to dodge, but her tired feet betrayed her, tripping her and bringing her forward towards the projectile instead. It sank into her thigh, causing her to fall to the ground with a scream of pain.

Erin tried to stand up, but it was no use. She had no more strength. She cried silently still trying to get to her feet, her movements frantic as she heard her father’s slow footsteps move forward. He used his foot to turn her over, ignoring her moan as the knife shifted in her thigh.  

His face was expressionless.

“If you weren’t worthless this wouldn’t have happened.”

He pulled the knife out and walked away.

Erin’s mind cleared but she was staring down at an unconscious man. His knife was in her hand, the blade cutting into her skin. She had caught it, and must have knocked him out with the handle. Her breaths came in gasps as she tried to slow her panicked heartbeat.

I’m not home anymore. She reassured herself. I survived, I got away. Aunt Elsinore suppressed my powers, causing my father to give up on me as completely useless. I’m okay.

But even as she thought it, a sense of despair welled up within her. She knew the truth. She wasn't okay. Not anymore.

She stared down at the man, he was already stirring. He must have only been stunned by her blow. Thinking quickly, she activated her mental reinforcement magic, trying to disperse his concentration rather than enhance it.  Drawing on the despair she felt from her memories, she pushed forward an illusion of her father, kneeling over the soldier. She willed him to hear her father speak.

“Take me to the explosive, soldier.”

The masked man, already confused and dazed, saluted and started walking down the tunnel. Erin could only hope he could focus enough to know where he was going. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for him to lead her to a large room with two more guards around a metal box.

“Stay here.” She instructed the man. He saluted once more and stood at attention, swaying slightly on his feet. Erin neared the entrance, planning her attack. With a bit of concentration, she started off with filling the room with golden flames, setting both of them ablaze. As they tried to escape, Erin moved forward, her fire not touching her clothes or skin. She grabbed their knives, right where she expected to find them, and grabbed one by the hair, slitting his throat, before kicking the other on his back, stabbing him in the heart. The flames died out, and all was silent.

A metal box stood before her on a pedestal. Slowly, she opened the lid, peering inside. It was a large black stone, glowing with magical energy. She let out a sigh of relief.

They were right.

It was a fire artifact, one meant to cause a large explosion.

Reaching forward a trembling hand, she gently laid it on the stone. It shook for a moment, and then crumbled into dust.

“Only a level 4, huh?” She muttered, and then turned back towards the remaining guard who still stood attention in the hall. Her magic was fading, he was blinking rapidly, looking around him in a daze as if wondering how he got there. Erin approached him, her heart beating fast as all the pieces began to click together.

Pulling together some of the last of her magic, she used her anger, putting an image of her father once more.

“Soldier! Identify yourself!”

The man saluted a third time. “Yes Sir, Lieutenant Cander, Alpha Company, Third Battalion, Sionelle Special Forces, Sir!” He then blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “Wait, we weren’t supposed to tell anyone…” His eyes widened. “WHO ARE YO…”

Erin shook her head, almost absentmindedly slitting the man’s throat before he could continue.

Sitting down against the wall, she held her head in her hands, shaking. She wanted to deny it, to realize she was wrong, but in her heart she knew she was right. It all started to make a terrible sort of sense.

The masked men who were her father’s special forces soldiers starting attacks.

Gerald’s parents lamenting that the army was spread thin on the borders to help reinforce the capital after the attack.

Richard handing over the border patrolling schedules.

The explosion planned today…

There was never any scheme against the competition… it was all a diversion, to pull as many troops as possible to the capital. This wasn’t the target.

The whole country was.

Her father was weakening the border, preparing a surprise attack when they least expected it.

Her father… her country of Sionelle… was invading the Ellurine Alliance… Gerald’s home.

[eerythingisshaka]

The Coffee Prince Pt. 2

(T’Challa x Reader)

*Part 1*

Word Count: 3k

Plot:  Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.

*Previously*

You are unphased and not listening when you get up and see this 6’0 man picking up his drink and turning towards you.  He makes his way to the side table, and your heart literally stops pumping for a split second from the anxiety.  He hasn’t seen you yet and he could easily leave very soon without your acknowledgment,  What if he doesn’t recognize you?  The L’s you could take outweigh the dubs by a mile.

You get up to go get an unnecessary sugar packet.

“Excuse me,” you say.

He looks to you and gives you a crooked smile.

“Ahh, how are you today, Ms. Macchiato.” He says while stirring his coffee.

You spontaneously start ovulating at his title for you.  He remembered your order, and made it a pet name for you!

You smile goofily as your heart threatens to fall out of your chest, “Yeah, that’s me!  How have you been….Thomas?”  Your voice rises an octave as you coyly played like you couldn’t remember one of the few things tied to him from your one engagement.

He furrows his brow at your statement.  “Ohh, you must have me confused with some other American coffee drinker.”

“Oh?  So that accent makes you from where, Boston?”

You both laugh.  Your mouth is getting dry from anxiety, so you sip your drink.  

“Gah! Fuck!”  You sputter some of the liquid down your chin, tongue hanging out fanning it.  The drink was scalding hot still.  

‘Thomas’ gets a napkin and hands it to you, concern clouds his face.

“Are you all right?  Should I go get you some water or…”

Heated with embarrassment noe more than the coffee, you shake your head trying to speak clearly.  “It’th fine, thankth.”  You say with a scalded tongue.

“Please, sit a moment.  I’ll be right back.”  He touches your arm to guide you back to a table and makes his way to the register.  You keep fanning yourself, mortified by your not so graceful behavior.

“Ok, come on, get your thit together.  You are a queen goddeth.  Anyone would be lucky to dick you down proper.”

You take a deep breath and look off to one side and see an old white woman shaking her head looking at you.  Of course that last sentence would come out clear as a bell, but you gave her a look of ‘and?’ while she continued eating her oatmeal.

‘Thomas’ comes back with cold Fiji water, cracking it open before handing it to you.

You take it in you hand with shock clearly displayed cross your face, ‘Thomas’ sits down across from you and notices your expression immediately.

“Is something wrong with it?  Is something in it?”  He leans to look at the bottle clutched in the hand.

Why did he have to be so cute when he scrunches his face with worry?  You snap out of it and try to relax again.  “No, it’th juth uh, you know they have free water cupth, right?  Like, you didn’t have to pay for one”

He waves his hand in protest, “It’s nothing.  I mean, you don’t need lukewarm tap water, this is better for you.”

You say before taking a sip, “Well that was very thweet of you.  I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about that.  I can’t standby while you’re in pain.  Though, the temporary speech impediment is kind of cute, I must say.”

“What do you mean?  Thith ith my real voice.  I wath juth trying to impreth you with perfect diction last time.”  You say, blowing your coffee, batting your eyes.

He chuckles, “Right, and I’m from Boston.”

You smile and look out the window for a second.  The high you feel from being in his company makes it hard to come back down to the reality that you have to make conversation, and you’re suddenly lost for words.  You want to know more about him but don’t want to come off as nosy or interrogative, or too eager, though you could smile at him giddily all damn day  But this is a cute guy, who is clearly attentive, splurging on some fresh H2O.  Ask him something!  Get some personal shit out the way!

You face him to see his round, gorgeous eyes looking at you.  You can’t read his expression before he looks down at his coffee again.

“What is your name, by chance?  I don’t think I got it before.” he asks before puckering his lips, that look like they’ve never known ash, to take a sip.

“Oh, it’s (Y/N)” you say.

“Ah, (Y/N) that’s a beautiful name.  It doesn’t seem too difficult to me.”

You practically melt at him saying your name.  You’d never want a different one long as those lips spoke it.

“Well, it shouldn’t be.  But people sense something has more than 2 syllables and their mind just flips.”

“Does it have any meaning behind it?”

“Mmm, not that I know.  I’d have to Google.  But all I know is my mom just liked it.  But what about you, ‘Thomas’?”  You say with a goofy grin, resting your chin on your hand.

“Yes, my name is T’Challa.”

“T….Challa?”

“Yes, that’s right! First try!”  He holds his hand up for a high five.

The world seems to go into slow motion when connecting your palm to his.  His hand is a skyscraper compared to yours, trying to memorize the feel of his hand through the little contact you had.

“What can I say, I’m a pro!”

“Very nice.  Impaired tongue and all!”  He pauses a moment before continuing, “Have you got time for a walk around to get some air?  It’s so beautiful outside.  May be nice…”

You look at your phone and see you should've been back at your desk 15 min ago.  

“Uh… actually I do need to go…”

“Bast! Well that’s ok. Maybe our paths can cross again in the future?”

Your face fallen, “Yeah, hopefully so.  Thanks again for the water…”

You start to get up and leave, “Ah, Miss (Y/N)?”

You turn to him, “Mhm?”

“Do you think I could call you sometime?  If it’s not too forward, we could arrange meeting outside of your work hours so it’s more convenient?”

You heart jumped into your throat at the proposal.  He’s asking for your number!  

“Sure thing!  I would love that.  Just let me know or I’ll call you whichever.  Cool!”

You back up to leave before you add anymore positive phrases to your long phrase affirming his invitation.

You step out the door of the shop and do a little Tiffany Haddish ‘she ready’ dance.  You couldn’t wait to fill Tavia in on the details.  T’Challa, T’Challa, the name just rolls off the tongue.

“Miss (Y/N)!  I thought you trying to dine and dash but …”

T’Challa was standing behind you for God knows how long, struggling to hold back his smile.

You straighten up, mortified.  Could he possibly be any more handsome and you be anymore a dork?

“Oh, no.  Um, what do you mean?”  you stammer, folding your arms to look semi-normal.

He pulls out his phone.  “We actually need each others numbers to call each other right?”

You still didn’t exchange numbers!  Thinking of how much of a mess you are you say, “Yeah, sorry!  Of course, allow me.”

You take his phone and type it in with your name saving it.

Handing it back, T’Challa takes it and puts it in his pocket, eyes never leaving your face as he gives you a closed mouth smile.

“You have a good rest of your day, (Y/N).  I look forward to connecting with you soon.”

He turns and strides down the sidewalk away.  As much as you hated to see him go, you loved watching him leave.  Was the dip in his gait put on or natural?  Either way, you loved it.

Later that day you go home, light as a feather.   You lowkey hate how some male attention could give you such an array of hormonal bliss that you felt like a traitor to the sisterhood.

Your roommate hadn’t gotten home yet so, you take the time to cook yourself some food, even though your hunger was honestly minimal.  Whenever you got really excited in any emotional direction, your appetite just goes south.  But you earned a meal today, so why not celebrate with dinner.  You look up a bookmarked recipe on your phone for some baked chicken with steamed vegetables and curl up to some Grown-ish as you work.  The episode with Yara Shahidi’s character obsessing over the relationship status of her and Cash was queued up.  Seeing her send literally 30 text messages to Cash saying an unintelligible number of things made you cringe hella heavy.  Why would she get caught up with a college athlete anyway?  You knew where this episode was going, as you turn back to seasoning your food.

While binge watching, you only eat about half of your food, which is better than nothing.  You have more energy than you know what to do with though, so with the extra living room space, you decide to knock out a little yoga to center yourself.   Laying out your mat and queueing up YouTube you switch to a yoga channel for beginners and put a chill playlist on shuffle.  You close your eyes as the instructor tells you to be present in today’s practice, breathing deeply and exhaling equally.  The practice started off simple enough with some cat-cows and downward dogs, but the intensity picked up soon once some planks and chair poses were thrown in.  You perspired like a Pinocchio meeting a woodpecker but pushed through each pose with a little motivation in your head.  If T’Challa could see me now.  Each challenge you faced, you thought of him being under you while you planked, over you while you did a bridge.  Once the poses were over you’d curse yourself for being so silly but hey, it worked.

During the cool down, the instructor tells you to get into happy baby pose, which you welcome with a deep sigh, wiping your brow.  You didn’t expect such an intense workout, so luckily you didn’t go ham on your food.

You hear the lock turn on the door, and in walks in Tavia.

“Well damn, bitch, am I interrupting something?!”

You look between your legs at Tavia, “Nah girl, I’m almost done.”

“You sure?  Cuz looks like you just getting started to me.  Why are you spreading your legs for anyone who walk in here?”

You roll out of your pose, grabbing your water. “Nothing, it’s been a minute since I got my mat out so…”  you say taking a sip.

Tavia takes a seat in a easy chair across from you, taking off her shoes.  “Mmhm, so what else is it bitch, cuz the fact that you ain’t posted up here smashing some cookies, watching Chocolate City or some other trash got me almost concerned.”  She says, faking her best concerned face.

You roll your eyes,  “It’s nothin!  Really, but I mean, I may have ran into someone today, but that’s not why I’m over here ‘pussy poppin’’ like you say.”

“Uh-uh.  How juicy is this?  I was drinking tonight anyway but lemme know should I grab my bottle right now?”

You look at her sideways and give a slight nod.

Tava screams like the Holy Spirit just caught her as she runs with her hands raised over to the fridge.  She gets out her moscato and runs back to her seat.  

“Uh, I don’t get a glass?”  You ask offended.

“No ma’am, you got talking to do.  You can’t talk and drink at the same time.” Tavia says with a tongue pop.

“ANYWAY, so I’m going to the coffee shop on my break, right?” You say excitedly.

“Right, ‘break’.” Tavia says clutching the bottle while doing air quotes.

“Listen, plenty of them folks go and do whatever on company time.  I need some caffeine to get through the mess.” You say defensively.

“Whatever, continue!”

“Ok, so I’m getting my shit, and just as I’m bout to leave, HIS order gets called.”

“Who??!”

“Thomas!”

Tavia’s body melts into the chair as she exclaims, “Whaaaaa??”

“YES! By the way, his name is T’Challa.”

“BITCH, you talked to him??”

With a little dance you confirm, “Hell yeah, fucking right!”

Tavia gets up to do a quick celebration twerk with you, passing the bottle. “Go head girl!  Ok, so how did you go up to him?  What did he say?”

Your face hurt from all the cheesing, “I just walked past him and he was like, ‘Hey, don’t I know you?’  and I said, ‘I hope so, cuz trying to know you.’  And eventually he remembered, so we got a table and talked about real surface level stuff, then I told him I gotta go back to work, so he was all ‘Well, I can’t have you walk out here without seeing you again.  Put your number in.’ So I did, and that’s really about it.”  You say content with your ‘story’.

Tavia was on the edge of her chair during your entire explanation until she said, “You gave him your number?”

You nod proudly, “Mhm!”

Tavia throws her hands in the air, “Girl!  You ain’t gonna be nothing but a booty call then.”

Ou screw your face up at this admission.  “Whatchu mean?  He ain’t hood actin’,  I just gave you the clipped version of how it went down.  Why you think that?”

Tavia sighs, “You gotta get his number, so you have control.  But since it’s the other way around, you gonna be waiting for him to call, and then when he does at 11pm, you gonna be showing off your wingspan and upset cuz he ain’t called you since.”

“Tavia, calm down.  It ain’t even been a day.  I’m not tryna wild like that, and he don’t seem the type.”  You say with less spirit than before.

“And if that’s what you wanted, you know I’m down for you; hit a split on the dick shawty act up!  But I know you for real want some committed peen, so I’m just giving you worst case before it slaps you in the face, ok?” Your good vibes from earlier are coming down faster than guillotine so you decide to dismiss yourself.

“Don’t be upset girl.  You still did your thing, and milk him for all it’s worth either way.  Hate the game, not the player!”  

You roll your mat up and go back to your room.  Your eyes go straight for your phone.  You think back to the articles you read on dating.  People usually wait 3 days to call right?  Or is that just after the first date?  What’re the rules for the phone exchange?  He could’ve texted you right there to have his number, but he didn’t so, could Tavia be right?  And if she was, is it so bad?  Dick is dick, and it sure hasn’t been present in your life.

You go to pick up your phone, opening up to the main menu.  

Missed Call (1) Voicemail (1)

Your heart thumps in your chest as you check the number.  It’s just digits, not one of your known numbers.  You walk across your floor couple times before listening to the message, calming yourself down and for the first time hoping it was just a bill collector.  You select the number and dial before closing your eyes to center yourself like the yoga instructor told you.  A few rings pass before you realize what you may have done.

“Hello?”

Your pulse literally stops as your eyes fly open at the voice on the other line.  You accidentally hit call back instead of call voicemail.

“Miss (Y/N)  Is that you?”  T’Challa says.

“Yeah, hey, how are you doing?”  You say in as steady voice you can muster as you pull at your hair in frustration.

“I missed you earlier.  Uh, your call, I mean.  Well, I called you.  Did you get my message?”

So that was him on that voicemail.  You didn’t want to lie but you didn’t want to look weird calling without context either.

“Uh, yeah. I did.  Thanks for calling by the way.”

He could’ve called to say he didn’t want to see you again.

“Please, I should be thanking you for offering your time.  So do you know when you would like to do it?”

Heat crawls from neck to your cheeks, out of your pits, from your nani, all at once. Do what?!  Is he inviting you somewhere or asking a favor?

“Uh, how does Saturday sound?”  You freeze at the anticipation of his answer.

“That’s great!  I have no problem with that.  We will try for 5pm?”

You nod like he can see you before responding, “Yeah, that’s good to me.  I can’t wait.”

You could practically hear T’Challa smiling as he said, “Wonderful.  Forgive me for the time of the hour, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You sit on the bed to keep from falling under your buckling knees.  “Not at all, I was just turning in so I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“You’re too kind.  I will see you then, if not at the shop first!  Good Night (Y/N).”

“Good night T’Challa.”  You press the red symbol and take the deepest breath you’ve done all day.  How erotic did that sound ‘goodnight, T’Challa’?  Geez just call him back to come over and get it over with already, you thought.  

You turn off the light and lay in your bed electrified with that same energy from before.  You almost forgot, but you pick up the phone and push for voicemail this time and listen:

Hi, I hope this is the right number.  (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if you would come with me to the music festival this weekend.  I don’t know if you heard about it or if it is your thing, but it sounds like a nice time.  We could just walk around, enjoy the sounds.  Uhh, just let me know when you get the chance, or I may see you at our favorite place.  (laughs then clears his throat)  Umm, but yeah, sorry for the long message.  This is T’Challa by the way.  Hope to hear from you soon.

Your phone prompts you to save or delete the message and you carefully save it before you listen a couple more times.  Putting your phone away you turn on your side, squeezing your legs together to bring yourself back down again.  You remind yourself that this is still just nothing more than two people meeting up at a public place with a bunch of other people.  No one has claimed nobody yet.  But like Tavia said, gotta milk it for what it’s worth, and how you feel right now is pretty damn priceless.

Part 3

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls  

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

The Coffee Prince

Commencement Day

My Ragtag

@sweetpeachjones@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@hairhattedghooligan@universalbri @therevolution-willbelive @you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines @airis-paris14

groovybbyy and nyeebey, yall here too! I just can’t tag you for some reason <3</p>

[kindaangelic]

BatFam Week Day 2: Shennanigans

Day 2 of BatFam week! Yippity skip! Prompt: Shennanigans ------------ Dick honestly did not know what he had done wrong. All he had done was to mention Wally taking him out to dinner, and Damian had chucked his mashed potatoes across the room and had ran out in tears. Bruce sat at the head of the table, stunned, with mashed potato dripping down his face, while Tim and Jason offered commentary and recorded the debacle. Dick had more pressing issues on his mind than his spud covered father figure, and rushed to see what had gotten Damian into such a tizzy. Dick opened the door to Damian's room to see the boy sobbing and stabbing at a messily drawn picture of what looked like the Flash on fire. "Damian, what's wrong?" Dick cooed. Damian continued to sob, but somehow managed to string together a coherent sentence. "You-you're going to g-go away with the Red Speed De-Demon and you'll forget about me!" Damian wailed. "Then Dr-Drake will take over the house, marry Father, and he'll ma-make me sweep and mop and he won't let me go t-to the ball!" Dick listened to the hysterical boy with growing dread and horror, and when he had finished, held him close, rocking him to and fro. "Hush, hush, now," he whispered. "There's been a huge misunderstanding here. Why don't you tell me what happened, from the beginning?" "I'd like to know that as well," Bruce grumbled, walking into the room smelling vaguely of seasoning. "As the main victim in this-" "Bruce, be quiet!" Dick hissed, silencing the vehement man. "Damian, you go on. Why'd you attack your father? And why is Tim going to marry Bruce?" "I didn't mean to," Damian said. "I just...Todd said he would!" Bruce gaped in horror, while Tim closed his eyes and waited for the sweet embrace of the void to take him. "Jason told you," Dick repeated. "Can you tell me what exactly he told you?" "Well, he said..." ___________ "Where's Dick?" "Grayson is with Flash," Damian answered with a sniff. "Titans business." "Hmm," Jason hummed, pondering. Damian looked blankly at him for a minute before sighing and walking away. Jason followed his small, retreating, figure with his eyes and just as Damian turned the corner, called him back. "Hey, Dami!" Damian flew towards Jason and socked him in the stomach. "Don't call me that!" "Dick calls you that all the time," Jason wheezed out. "Well...that's Grayson. Only he's allowed to call me that," Damian pouted back. Jason nursed his sore stomach and glared at the brat. Slowly, a plan began to form in his mind. "And what will you do once Dick's gone, huh? Who's going to call you Dami then? Who'll love you then?" "Where is Grayson going?" Damian asked curiously. Jason looked at his brother with his innocent expression and tilted head, and felt no mercy. "What, you think Dick's going to stay home forever? Nah, he's going to get married, move out, and have his own kids. That's why he's with Flash right now - they're dating, and soon, they'll get married." Damian's look of anger grew at every passing sentence. "You're lying!" He cried, lunging forward to strangle Jason, and missing. Jason circled easily around the distraught boy to catch him by the middle, and whispered in his ear. "And once Dickie's gone, who's going to be on your side here? Bruce? He's a dolt. Tim? He hates you. In fact, he'll be looking to make his claim on the house stronger with Dick out of the way." "H-huh?" "He's going for the classic scheme. Who's going to be next in line to inherit after Bruce? Not Dick, he's going to get married and leave, and live happily ever after." "Father would split things evenly between his children-" "Oh ho, but what if there was another? Say...a spouse?" Damian was shocked into silence, and Jason took full advantage of the moment. "Tim's going to be an adult soon, and why look around for a partner when the most eligible bachelor in Gotham is right under your nose?" "No-!" "Yes," Jason hissed, bending down to Damian's level, coming nose to nose with him. "Tim will wed Bruce, and he'll be your step-father!" "Aagh!" "Yes! Now you're getting it! He's planned the seduction, the wedding, the control, and once he's Mr. Wayne, he's going to do to you exactly what was done to Cin-" Jason choked off, stuffing his fist in his mouth. "Cinderella," he rasped out. "What? What is that?" Damian cried. Jason's shriveled heart danced a merry jig. This was unbelievable. The demon assassin baby didn't know about Cinderella. Talia couldn't have been big on reading her son bedtime stories; she would have probably put him to bed with A Handy List of Stabbing Techniques. It was what Jason was given when he was Talia's protégé. "Cinderella was a girl," Jason started sadly. "A girl whose step-mother forced her into servitude. She swept the chimney and sewed dresses all day long, when all she wanted to do was to go to the Prince's ball." "Was she...able to go?" Damian asked softly. "No," Jason said sadly. "Her step-mother wouldn't let her. Do you know what happened then?" Damian looked at him with wide eyes and shook his head. A better man may have stopped the prank then, but this was Jason. "She never got to go out again, and she never married her prince." Damian gasped. "I will never be able to wed Jon? No!" Jason smirked. Well, that was news. The baby bat wanted to get hitched to SuperBrat? Bruce wasn't going to be pleased, but Clark was going to be tickled pink. "Yup. No wedding, no ball, no Jon, and guess what?" Damian leaned in. "No Grayson." "AAAH!" Jason cackled as he watched Damian run away, and sat back to plot the next stage of his grand plan. ---------- "How was patrol?" "It was fine, B. I actually busted Fal-OH!" Tim squeaked as he fell forward into Bruce's outstretched arms. Tim's nose was squished into Bruce's chest, and Bruce's hands were gripping Tim's back tightly as he looked down at the smaller hero in his arms. They stayed locked in that position, Tim falling asleep in the safety of Bruce's arms and lack of caffeine, and Bruce taking advantage of getting to discreetly hug one of his children - the only way he would ever hug anyone. The moment was broken when Bruce heard a withering gasp by the corner, just in time to see a small, tri-coloured child run up the stairs. Bruce frowned, but settled for lugging Tim over to his bed, to put his clever, little, sleep deprived pup to sleep. He never did see the marbles that Tim had slipped on, or his second son snickering from inside the t-rex. ----------- Finally, there was a peaceful night in Gotham. No one was stirring, not even a minor gangster, and all the Arkham inmates were trussed up in their straitjackets, dreaming of breakouts and planning what to do once they escaped. In Wayne Manor, family movie night was in full swing, and Damian was content, cuddled up against Dick. He had previously snarled at Wally that he was not invited, and had successfully scared him off. Jason looked at Damian's contented face, and thought that he looked not unlike a very small Emperor Palpatine who had just enacted Order 66. Dick, of course, suspected nothing, because he was an oblivious, hug-loving, boob that was currently busy smothering Damian with his love. Jason spied Tim sitting next to Bruce and cackled, a plan already concocted in his mind. He hurried to the kitchen and whipped up a batch of hot chocolate, and added sleeping pills in Tim's mug. "Here," Jason said sweetly, handing the cups out to his family, who took them with due suspicion. "Why?" Tim asked cautiously. "Because I care about you," Jason replied innocently. Well, it was true in a way, he thought to himself as he watched Tim down the hot chocolate, the pills would help his sleep deprived little brother some. Jason patted himself on the back. He was such a good sibling. Within minutes, Tim had dozed off. Jason nudged his sleeping brother and sent him sprawling all over Bruce, who caught him and held him close, while continuing to watch Finding Nemo. Dick cooed and went to fetch a blanket, and busied himself with draping it over Bruce and Tim. Jason shot Damian a pointed look, and watched the boy's face take on an ungainly puce coloration. Just as Dick was about to sit back down next to Damian, Jason purposefully pulled Dick towards himself, leaving Damian all alone in the corner. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason watched Damian get upset, his rage shaking his tiny frame until fat, angry, tears started dripping down his cheeks. Jason silently mouthed the word "Cinderella", and looked over at Tim sprawling over Bruce. Damian immediately jumped up and ran to his room, with Dick watching concernedly. "What happened?" "He probably identified with Nemo," Jason supplied sagely. "Nemo left the ocean and found a new family in the aquarium, just like Damian left the League of Assassins and came here." "You're so smart, Jay," Dick said in awe. Jason chuckled and slung his arm around Dick's shoulders. "I've got hidden depths, Dickhead, hidden depths." ----------- "Hey, Flash." "Hey, Red Hood. Nice to be cornered by you," Wally replied guardedly, shrinking against the wall Jason had herded him towards. "The pleasure is mine," Jason said benignly. "Here's fifty bucks, go and take Dickie someplace nice." Wally looked at the money that Hood was waving in front of his face and took it. "Um...why?" Jason frowned. Why did everybody suspect him of being up to no good? Oh, yeah. He wasn't. "Dickie's been really stressed lately, what with sharing Batman, being Nightwing, and mothering his brothers. You could show him a good time, get to know him, grope him-" "Hood!" "Don't play coy, West, I know where your hands have been," Jason said, shrugging the interruption aside. Wally blushed, and Jason continued, "So go show my brother a good time. Take him someplace nice, buy him a little something." Wally nodded and took the money before zipping away, leaving Jason to practice his evil laugh alone, in the privacy of one of Gotham's sleazier alleyways. ----------- "That's a nice necklace, Dick," Bruce commented over after-patrol dinner. "Thanks, Wally gave it to me. He said to wear it when he takes me out to dinner tomorrow." "That's nice. Where is he taking you? Tim, pass the salt, please." "Here you go," Tim said, his fingers absentmindedly brushing Bruce's as he passed the shaker over. "Right, Dick, you were saying?" "He's-" "Father, you absolute FOOL!" Damian cried hysterically, and flung his plate aside and ran away. Everyone watched, horrified, as the mashed potatoes soared off of the plate, into the air, and landed with a wet plop on Bruce's head. Silence resonated in the dining hall until Alfred moved to carefully remove the spuds from Bruce's hair. "Tremendous execution by Damian Wayne, did you see that wrist motion, Timmy?" Jason commented, channeling a 1950's radio sports commentator. "I did, Jay, I did. The parabolic arc of the throw was perfect. A graphing calculator with an y = x2 formula would have been jealous." "Plus ten points for the sound," Jason added in his baseball commentator voice. "Didja hear that wet splat?" "It was superb - like a thousand slugs hitting the pavement, Jay. We've witnessed history today." "Too true, Timmers, too true." Bruce sat glued to his spot, horrified, while Dick ran out to check on an obviously distraught Damian. It took a good five minutes for Bruce to finally regain his senses and follow Dick, intent on grounding Damian until the next Crisis. ----------- "-and, and Father is too dull to realize, and Drake is going to enslave me! I won't be able to go to the Ball, or marry Jon, and I won't ever see you again because he'll chain me in the basement!" Dick was torn between horror and awe at Jason's sheer gall as he cradled a hysterically crying ten-year-old in his arms while Bruce recovered from being called foolish and dull. "Damian, I won't leave you-" "But Todd said-" "Jason was lying," Bruce said harshly. "Dick isn't getting married, Wally's too broke and classless to have a proper Wayne style wedding. I won't accept getting hitched at the registar, Dick, just do you know. Furthermore, Tim isn't seducing me, and I'm not going to marry him, he's my son." Tim puddled to the floor in disgust, and sought to become one with the carpet. "See? Tim is horrified!" "Tim is disgusted," Tim corrected him. "Tim is traumatized at the thought of wooing his adoptive father, who is old and has grey hairs, and the emotional quotient of a prune. Tim is also offended that Damian thought that I would imprison him and make himsweep the chimney." "That's right-" "Damian wouldn't be able to reach far enough to do a good enough job of cleaning-" "Not helping," Bruce gritted out as Tim's words evoked a fresh wave of wailing from Damian. "But the Cinderella Plan-" Bruce groaned. "Jason lied," he said, sitting down. "It's a fairy tale. Cinderella had a fairy godmother, went to the ball, got her prince, got married, and lived happily ever after." Damian sniffed morosely and swung his little feet in silence. "Promise?" He asked, finally. "Yes," Bruce breathed in relief. "I promise. I promise that Dick isn't going to have a slap-shod wedding, I promise that he's never going to leave, I promise that Tim isn't depraved enough to want his own father, and I promise that when I find Jason, I'm going to make him wash the batmobile with his own tears." "Bruce!" "Shut up, Dick," Bruce grumbled, getting up. "Take care of your brother. Tim, come with me, we're going to find Jason." "Yes, daddy," Tim breathed heavily. "TIM!" ------------- Later that night... "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," Dick seethed at Jason. "How could you manipulate your little brother like that?" "I feel nothing," Jason hissed as he wrung out his sponge and scrubbed the batmobile. "Also, you should be grateful. You got to cuddle Demon brat for a whole gen minutes because of his little meltdown. I also lent Wally that fifty bucks for your necklace!" "Aww, really?" "Dick, you are hopeless," Tim sighed. "Jason, keep scrubbing. Damian, keep whipping him." Damian grinned freaky and cracked his whip at Jason, catching his bottom and eliciting a cry from the older man. That would teach him to mess with Damian Wayne. ----------- Meanwhile, at the Watchtower... "...Batman, you're staring." "I'm aware, Superman." "Um, okay." Clark paused for a beat. "Why?" **Because I'm slowly dying inside contemplating the near future where our sons may force my lawful bonding to you through their marriage, and if I could kill you now, there could still be time for me to mould your son into someone that I could approve of Damian marrying.** "In preparation." "Of...?" Bruce swept out of the room in silence, leaving Superman with a cold feeling in his bones.

[baesketballers]

勿忘草 forget-me-not

true love ft. Kise Ryouta

Note: female love rival, gender neutral reader

She lies there, unconscious on a plush mattress, her hands folded neatly on her torso. Kise’s golden eyes widen in awe of her beauty despite her not being awake. His princely cape flutters in the wake of his footsteps as he approaches her, slowly but surely as if the sound of his boots against the marble floor could break the spell.

The bed dips down under his weight as he carefully sits at the edge of it, eyes locked on the princess. A hand travels to caress her hair that is splayed out onto the pillow on which her head rests. The blonde’s touches are wary, but also full of affection.

And then, he leans down to kiss her.

You watch from behind the heavy curtains with bated breath when Kise’s lips touches the edges of her mouth. A second or two passes in silence, but when the princess’s eyelids flutter and she slowly stirs, you can literally hear the relieved sighs of the audience.

Turns out the director’s note about anticipation in this particular scene works pretty well.

“Good job, Kise-kun,” you smile wryly when he is backstage, the audience still bustling out of their seats from behind the curtains. Kise doesn’t notice, of course—how could he, with his skin flushed and eyes bright with excitement after the performance? It’s the first performance of the day, and with such a warm, enthusiastic reception from the audience, Kise can’t help but feel confident about the following performances to come. The next one doesn’t start in three more hours, so he’s able to relax a bit.

The members of the drama club—the people he’s helping out—occasionally left pats of “thanks” and “good job” on his shoulders and back while Kise makes his way towards you, leaving you waiting in a slightly awkward manner. When he arrives in front of you, you’re ready with a cotton pad saturated with a light blue tint from the makeup remover. He grins and lets you do your job, enjoying the coolness of the liquid on his face.

“How did you like it, ___________-cchi?” Kise asks, eyes close as you remove his makeup gently.

“It’s brilliant,” you reply aloofly, concentrating on your work, “I mean, I’ve been to the rehearsals before, but this seems even better.”

“You’re just trying to make me happy,” he teases with a chuckle, to which you respond with a non-committal hum. “But it’s thanks to you too that it’s such a success! You’re the scriptwriter, after all! I think the drama club might just be awarded best act this time around.”

“Still, what’s a scriptwriter without actors?” You ask him back, to which he can only smile, eyes still closed—it’s evident that he is pleased with the outcome of everything.

Yes, the culprit of every plot twist, every word coming out of the character’s mouth, and that particular kissing scene is none other than you. It wasn’t entirely your fault, either. How were you supposed to know that the main lead is going to quit the club to spend more time studying, and that your childhood friend whom you harbor secret feelings towards is the replacement? You remember how the female lead later on gushed to her friends about how this was going to be her best school festival yet. Understandable, really—you’re positive that any member of the student body, male or female, wouldn’t reject having close contact and an almost-kiss with the Kise Ryouta. You sigh.

“___________-cchi, is everything okay? Are you tired?” The blonde asks with his eyes open now, and you inwardly curse for not being able to keep yourself in check, especially when you’re in front of him. You shake your head and give him your best smile, as if you’re not jealous of the person playing alongside him in the play.

You’re foolish, you chide yourself after realizing that you’re basically turning into his possessive fangirls, he’s so out of your league this is not even funny.

“A little bit, but don’t worry about me,” you answer, applying finishing dabs of the makeup remover. “You’re good to go now, you must be even more tired than I am. Get some food or something, but be sure to come back at least an hour before the next show.”

“Okay, thank you so much ___________-cchi!” The boy gives you a light hug before rushing towards the changing room, adamant in getting out of his prince costume. Soon, other members of the drama club are lining up to have their makeup removed, and you find yourself working while spacing out at the same time.

Right after he exits the dimly-lit classroom through the sliding doors, Kise’s lips turn into a frown. He is worried and confused. He very rarely feels this way towards you, what with you being his childhood friend and all—except that one time when the two of you are graduating from junior high. You told him you weren’t going to call him “Ryouta” anymore, since it was considered too close for two childhood friends who aren’t an item (by his fans, at least). You told him that it might cause misunderstandings.

“If someone you like hears me call you that,” you said, “they might get the wrong idea.”

Kise still remembers the squeeze of his heart when he heard your words. It was inexplicably painful, at least at that time. He’s starting to realize the reason why it hurt, but the truth may be too much for him to handle. 

He’s scared of the fact that he likes you. It doesn’t matter, though, because he already does. Very much, in fact, that these cursed feelings have the capacity to make his heart soar when you’re around, at the same time metaphorically pushing him down into a manhole when you’re not around. He’s scared of people catching up with his feelings. It doesn’t seem like he’s good at masking it, despite his newly discovered acting skills. What if you were to find out from other people? That would be disastrous. However, him telling you straightforwardly is an equally horrid scenario.

He would face rejection. Your friendship would be broken, and the two of you would be forced to have so many awkward socializing until one of you can’t take it anymore. It would be easier to be strangers, if that’s the storyline he’s going with. 

Arriving in front of an unoccupied vending machine, Kise sighs, finger hovering subconsciously to press the button for a Coke. There it is again, he thinks as the canned drink falls down the machine, that squeeze in my heart. It’s as if his chest responds automatically whenever you are on his mind. He’s longing too much for you. Like any other regular couple in school, he wants to hold hands with you, make you laugh, take you out on dates, hug you, kiss you…

The can opens with a profound fizz, but Kise pays no mind as he brings the drink to his lips. Two things are keeping him from confessing to you right now: the fear of rejection, and your relationship as childhood friends. 

He’ll have to tackle both sooner or later.

You feel almost like a masochist, peeking at the very same scene that breaks your heart the first time you watched it while you could just stay away from the curtains dividing the stage and the makeshift backstage. But at least it’s the last show for ever, which means you don’t get to experience torture in the form of the finale, even if you put yourself through it. In your defense, though, backstage is rather stuffy, considering the fact that it’s only around a quarter of the classroom, and you’re rather curious of Kise’s performance.

When he leaves the kiss on the edge of the Princess’s lips, like he did the first time, there was something different about the air around him. You’re not sure if it’s just you, but looking at how the audience was less anticipating while they wait for the Princess to wake up, it is not just you. The rest of the finale unfolded nicely as written in the script, and you would think it was perfect had you not witnessed the first show.

Something is wrong with Kise. Maybe he’s tired?

“Are you okay?” is the first thing you ask him when he ducks underneath the curtain. He sends you a wry smile—funny enough, you remember doing the same to him after the first show. It appears that you just swapped positions with him.

“Did it really show?” He laughs nervously. “I don’t know why, but I was slightly out of it.”

Your hand instinctively reach out to cup his cheeks, trying to detect abnormal warmth despite the pink flush of post-performing. When you realize what you’re doing, though, you widen your eyes in shock and move to place the back of your hand against his forehead. 

Geez, ___________, what the hell are you thinking?

Unbeknownst to you, Kise’s heart is pumping harder than it has ever pumped for the rest of his life. The narrow backstage sort of forces him to stand closer to you, which he also did earlier, but the skin-to-skin contact sends his blood rushing all over him. For one second he feels the need to hold you close spiking, his fingers twitching as a result of his willpower to hold it in, which he miraculously does. 

“…You’re a little bit warm,” you comment, opting to ignore the blatant yet unintentional breach of his personal bubble.

“Probably from the show,” he replies, suddenly not as casual as before. “I might look like a player, but kissing a girl in front of thirty or so people is still embarrassing for me.” Kise sighs, running a hand through his hair as he watches you prepare the makeup remover. His eyes subconsciously find their way to your lips, admiring the shape and color, and how it looks so… kissable. Delectably so.

The blonde gulps discreetly, suddenly feeling bold.

“Of course, it’s a different story if I’m actually kissing someone I have feelings for.”

You blink, the stillness of your body a perfect juxtaposition to how your mind is racing a thousand miles per second, wheels whirring so fast you’re scared he might hear them squeak. Through his words, he’s trying to tell you that he does not have feelings for the female lead, that much is clear.

What is not clear is the reason why he is telling this to you.

There are a number of possibilities, your mind deduces, but only one makes sense. You don’t want to be hopeful that this person, unattainable and distant moreso because he’s a friend, actually—

He takes one step forward, impossibly close to you. As you pretend to soak the cotton pad into the blue of the makeup removing liquid, you think of how this sort of proximity was normal between the two of you when you were kids, even up until middle school.

Until you couldn’t lie to your feelings anymore and called him by his last name.

Now, though. Your breath is slightly shaky—you’re nervous just by having him stand close to you, peering down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. Not that you had the courage to look into his eyes, anyway. You see blue seeping slowly into the white of the cotton, almost like poison, like him. Spreading under your skin as if he’s some sort of biological infection that you oddly want. 

You see his hands enclosing your wrists, the touch secure but not painful. 

“Why won’t you look at me,  ___________?”

The absence of that chummy suffix he always uses on you tells you that he’s serious. He has never done this to you before. Hyperawareness hits you and you realize that you’re backstage, with at least twenty other people related to the production, all of them enclosed in the same area as you. You dare not look, but you feel people staring. Kise could give two shits. 

Little do you know that his mind is reeling, too. His eyes on your face act like scanners, gathering your small movements and gestures to analyze you. He sees shyness but feels sexual tension. Something this strong couldn’t only be his imagination, no matter how many times he imagined.

It strikes him that there is only one way to find out. He’s been through a lot of frustration, confusion, and anxiety. He doesn’t think he can take more. There is no way he is going to back out of this situation anyway.

The feel of his lips against your is sudden, unexpected, but a piece of you that’s closest to your heart says that it is not unwelcome. Kise’s hands, which are there to prevent you from slipping away from him, prove to be unuseful at the end, because rather than an instinct to flee, you are frozen from head to toe. Your eyes, however, widen a fraction when you feel the velvety sensation, but soon shut as you gasp at the way he’s biting at your bottom lip. 

You find your hand holding on to his, gripping tight enough to prevent your knees from buckling. Kise lets out a groan at the taste that he longs for, kissing you deeper.

When he pulls away for breath, the spell breaks, just like in the play that you wrote and many other stories of old. You realize that people are staring and your stomach sinks, a blush dusting redness on your face to the tip of your ears. Kise brings you in his arms as he looks, dumbfounded, around at the whole cast and crew of the production. How much of an idiot is he to not notice that he was making a scene?

“Get a room, you guys,” one of the decoration team members teases. The other boys begin to heatedly comment, playfully “oooh”-ing and “aaah”-ing at how utterly passionate it is while simultaneously picking on Kise for being a playboy prince. The girls are a bit more sympathetic, at least, pretending to clean up while bottling up a giggle or two. Some just have their jaws on the floor. You can only cover your face in humiliation, not bothering with the bottle of makeup remover and cotton pad still in both hands. Kise tries his best to shield you, pulling you into his arms as he tells them to quit bothering.

The drama club president, a third year, is thankfully mature about it, but not totally so. He gestures to the door with a smirk.

“I’m so sorry, ___________-cchi!!” 

“It’s not even about apologizing anymore, Ryouta! They’re never going to let it go! I—we—will be humiliated as long as we’re in Kaijou!” You blanch, knowing deep in your core that your words are true. “Not to mention the rumors they’ll spread…”

“___________-cchi…?”

“What?” You nearly snap, biting your lip in anxiousness.

“Did you… call me Ryouta?”

Your hand flies to cover your mouth when you realize that indeed, you did call him that, a name you swore not to let out from your lips since a year ago. Kise’s golden eyes are swimming with hope, but you’re too embarrassed by your mistake to notice. He manages, however, to capture your attention once again when he steps forward, much like the way he did backstage.

“What—”

“___________-cchi, do you like me?”

“Wha—”

“Because I like you,” he says, taking a step forward, “so much,” until your back rests against the wall.

“Wh—Kise-kun!” One of his palms are stationed on the wall beside your head, blocking any possible escape routes (you don’t think you want to run, anyway), while his other hand cups your cheek, mimicking the act that triggered him to kiss you the first time in front of a crowd.

“Please say you like me back,” he says, voice soft and low unlike his usual chipper self. You can only dumbly nod, looking at the red cape that flows from his shoulders to his back—he’s still in his costume when the two of you made off from that classroom.

“I want to hear you say it,” Kise murmurs again, this time leaning close to your ear. You shiver.

“I like you too,” you whisper hurriedly, and almost immediately Kise turns into a smiling goof. “Stupid,” you half-seriously hit him in the shoulder. He’s laughing, clearly so relieved at your statement, but after several moments he calms himself down despite the grin on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says against the crook of your neck, trying to contain the bubbly feeling building in his chest. “For earlier, I mean. I don’t know what came over me.” You can’t help but blush at the memory of his lips against yours and how soft they felt. Kise seems to think the same, because then he leans so close to you you can feel his breath against your face.

“Will you let me… make it up to you?”

The flitter of his eyes down to your lips makes it obvious. This time though, you nod again.

Your heart feels like bursting the moment he fit his lips against yours, as if you were originally one, and Kise’s hand snaking behind your head amplifies the sensations, sending adrenaline rushing in your blood. It feels like a dream, but also very much real at the same time, and you can’t help but think that this must be what they felt in fairy tales and love stories—the kiss that breaks spells, heals wounds, restores souls.

True love’s kiss.