#since your magic anon expired and all
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Hii, i have been occupied and wanted to come back to watch BLS, my last one was naughty babe. So what's are your current obsession!?
Anon, you have missed a lot in the last six months! BL Land has had several shows in that time, and, of course, I've consumed most of them. My capability to become obsessed with a show is unparalleled, and as I mentioned in my last obsession list, I can be obsessed about several things simultaneously. Since you've been out for a minute, let me recap some of the shows I sent a Valentine's Day card too.
Note: These are NOT recommendations.
Shows I liked for color reasons but wasn't obsessed:
Twins
Pit Babe
Middleman's Love
My Dear Gangsta Oppa
Bake Me Please (* I AM obsessed with the lead actor, Guide)
Shows I liked for the colors AND the plot but wasn't always obsessed with:
The Sign
Perfect Propose
I Cannot Reach You
7 Days Before Valentine
I Became a Lead in a BL Drama
Shows I should've been obsessed with if I was normal:
Cooking Crush
Love for Love's Sake
Cherry Magic (Thailand)
So now that we recapped some of the shows I was mildly normal about, it's time for me to reveal the shows I'm currently so obsessed with that I cut off some of their hair while they slept and now I'm attaching it to a cloth doll in hopes of binding us together.
For. Ev. Ah.
Dead Friend Forever (forever, forever, ever, forever, ever?)
Obsession Level - Buying us matching BFF necklaces with vials of our blood attached to them after my therapist tells me my relationship with it is unhealthy, and I need to take a step back from it.
It just ended, and it isn't a BL, but I have no words. If I tried to explain why I'm so obsessed with this show, people would be really worried about my sanity. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to stop thinking about it. I hate all the characters. I love all the characters. I want them all dead. I want to raise them from the dead and make them do it all again. I want to heal them. I want to make them worse. I want to be in that house with them.
Unknown
Obsession Level - Holding pictures of it close to my heart while I lay in bed even though it is laying right next to me in the same bed because I need it to fully grasp just how crazy about it I am and have been.
It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about "brothers." And if you looked at my previous obsessed list, you know those three items are a clear path to Obsession City for me (Looking at you, Kiseki: Dear to Me).
Anti Reset
Obsession Level - Baking all its favorite sweet treats and sitting them on its porch early in the morning then running away even though I know the security camera is filming me each time (which is why I wear cute outfits when I do it).
It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about a robot. It doesn't hit all the points on my obsession scale, but it's part of Vidol/VBL's universe, so it has my attention and a little bit of my heart.
Lady Boy Friends
OB. SESSED! Level - Knowing it's expired and toxic, but I can't stop eating it because if ending up in the hospital is the price I have to pay and possible death, then I guess that's the sacrifice I gotta make.
It's a remake of a 2015 series, it dropped with no promo, and only one episode has aired, yet this show is hellbent on being a whole ass problem, so of course my trashy ass loves it. There is transphobia, homophobia, sexual harassment, colorism, elitism, and every other -ism that it could pile in because the entire show is begging to be everyone's trigger warning. There is a love story in there somewhere, but I don't give two shits about it when the skinny femmes and the fat femmes are fighting, and the one pictured above is about to enter her villain origin story. The subtitler is doing the Lord's work, and I feel truly blessed with this hot ass mess.
But please remember, one person's trash taste is not another person's treasure, so THESE ARE NOT RECOMMENDATIONS!
#my current obsessions#dead friend forever and ever and ever ever#unknown#anti reset#lady boy friends#NOT RECOMMENDATIONS#I'm trash and I know it
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Beel probably could legit milk his chest for milk. figure he has some in the fridge and mc drinks it before beel has to explain yeah no that milk beel owns its milk from beel.
A/N: You know, I've always loved the lactation kink but to have it flipped on its head with Beel as the one being milked... Blessed anon, you have opened my eyes lmao. I hope you enjoy!
CW: Lactation kink obvs, unintended breast milk drinking, no actual smut but there are reader's suggestive thoughts lmao.
»»----------► Reader is Gender Neutral
The sight of the empty shelves before you is almost enough to send you into a rage that only Satan would be proud of.
Responsibility for tonight’s dinner has fallen to you, despite your repeated protests, since Lucifer has been called away “unexpectedly” by Diavolo. For someone who can reprimand his brothers for hours at the slightest instance of them shirking their responsibilities, he sure knows how to abandon his just as fast. It’s not that you don’t understand how important the Prideful demon is to the Devildom, but the number of times he’s been conveniently called away on his dinner days is suspicious. And just like every other time, you’ve been left to sort out the mess they’ve left behind.
Your mood is already sour at the mountain of homework you have to get through, so preparing dinner will waste what precious study time you have. Discovering that you now have to go shopping on top of that has downright pissed you off.
Though it is futile, you give one last sweeping look over the shelves as if your anger might magically cause all your ingredients to appear. Seriously, you live in a realm that’s packed to the brim with magical artifacts, spells, and sorcerers and no one has figured out how to make grocery shopping instantaneous?
Before another internal rant can begin, you spot a glass container sitting on the top shelf, pushed all the way to the back. You can’t reach it by standing on your toes so you quickly run to the dining room and drag a chair into the kitchen. Placing it in front of the open fridge, its perfect height allows you to climb up and grab the bottle with ease.
The bottle reminds you of the old glass milk jugs you’d see in older cartoons, when the necessity of a milkman was a normal part of life. The liquid inside is white, though it is slightly thicker like a cream, leaving little milky waves on the sides as you turn the bottle to-and-fro in your hands. The glass is smooth, with no embossing or artistic label, no expiration date, and most curiously, no hastily scribbled “BEEL” to designate the sixth-born’s claim. You had figured that was the reason it had survived in the fridge so long, since no one dared to risk another gluttonous outburst from the demon, but the absence of such has only piqued your curiosity even more.
Twisting the cap, it easily releases with a soft pop. You sigh in relief, thankful that the bottle is free from curses. Bringing the bottle closer to your face, you sniff at the contents. The scent is puzzling. It isn’t foul like spoiled milk would be, but it doesn’t have the neutral smell that you expect. There’s an underlying spice to it that is familiar. You wrack your brain, but no matter how many times you smell the liquid, the name for the mystery scent dies on the tip of your tongue.
“Well… bottom’s up!” You think to yourself as you take a quick swig from the bottle. After all, if it isn’t claimed, and the brothers have the audacity to leave you with an empty fridge, you deserve to partake in the spoils of forgotten treasure.
If the smell was puzzling, then the taste was downright incomprehensible. Of the different beasts available to be milked in this realm, this tasted like none you have tried. Is this some kind of oat or nut milk? Come to think of it, it didn’t remind you of any of the types of milk back home either. Was this from the Celestial Realm?
Taking another sip, you let the milk settle on your tongue before swallowing. Again, you aren’t able to place the taste. So you take another sip. And another. Another, another, another, until you’ve finished a quarter of the bottle. The flavor is sweet, but not sickeningly so. There’s a tang to it, a kick that isn’t spicy, but instead savoury.
You don’t get a chance to continue your quest, instead being nearly toppled into the fridge by a frantic-looking Beel as he rips the container from your hands.
“PLEASE, please tell me you weren’t drinking this!” The demon demands, protectively cradling the bottle to his chest, body half turned away from you as he curls in on himself in embarrassment. He refuses to meet your eyes, for if he did, he wouldn’t need to ask that question, damning evidence found as a milk mustache formed on your upper lip.
“Uhmm…” Hands still clutching onto the fridge door for dear life, you look at Beel in pure bewilderment, “I did?” You don’t know what’s gotten into the demon. You had double-checked that his name wasn’t on the bottle! “Is it yours?”
Beelzebub’s fingers anxiously twitch against the bottle wrapped in his arms, “Not exactly…”
Climbing down from the chair, you now stand in front of the demon. Beel is the definition of a gentle giant, always careful despite his imposing size and strength. That’s why you’re concerned when he flinches away from you when you try to take the bottle from his hands.
“Beel… what’s wrong?” You ask, one hand on his shoulder while the other gives a reassuring squeeze to his bicep. “Did I do something?”
The sixth-born shakes his head, “This isn’t… normal milk.”
“Wha– What kind of milk is it?” Anxiety creeps into your voice. Did you just drink something poisonous?
With a heavy sigh, Beel finally manages to look at you. A deep blush has bloomed on his cheeks, the crimson color running down his neck. He looks like he just finished a game of Fangol, sweat beading on his forehead and his breaths seemingly erratic. “It’s mine…”
“But I didn’t see your name written– OH.” The realization hits you as you watch Beelzebub point to his own chest. Your own face begins heating up as you bury your head in your hands. “I am SO sorry Beel, I didn’t–”
A new idea jumps to the forefront. One that causes the heat in your body to flame between your legs. “So you can– you’re able to– you produce milk?”
The demon nods, one of his large hands nervously scratching at the back of his neck.
A tantalizing scenario materializes in your mind.
You, sitting against the headboard of your bed. Beel, resting between your legs with his back to your chest. He whines as you massage his pecs, milk pebbling from his nipples before dripping down into the grooves of his abdominals.
His hands fists his cock, the pace torturously slow as you had ordered. Every so often, his hand runs along his stomach, gathering up the spent milk before returning to stroke his shaft.
“You’re doing so good, such a good boy.~” You’d coo, pinching one of his erect nipples between your fingers.
He begs for permission to speed up. You grant it as a reward for being good.
He finally cums, seed spilling onto his stomach and hand as he sags against your body. He whines again when you move out from under him, letting him rest against your pillows. You settle yourself in between his legs, bending over his muscular frame to lick at his skin.
The mixture of his milk and cum is sinful. It’s sweet and salty; simple yet savoury.
It’s familiar.
Finally, you have a name for the mysterious flavor of the milk.
Emboldened by your newfound knowledge, and unabashed horniness for the demon before you, you decide to make your move.
Beel looks helpless, like an abandoned puppy, tears forming in his eyes as you gently cup his face. You softly stroke your thumbs over his cheeks, catching the few tears that fall and wiping them away. Everything that needs to be said is conveyed in your loving gesture.
You hold him like that for a minute or two before removing your hands to coax the bottle out of his grasp. He’s hesitant at first, but eventually gives it up, hand gripping his wrist anxiously as he watches you place the bottle back into the fridge. When you return to him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body against yours. His hands fall to your waist, your skin always warm and pliable under his touch.
Pulling back from the embrace only slightly, your touch is light as you trail your fingers along his collarbones and down the expanse of his chest. “Do you always produce milk?” You ask in a whisper.
“No,” he murmurs, “Only during heats.”
Humming in acknowledgement, your hands slide underneath his pecs before you push the flesh together. Your fingers dig into his skin as you cup his breasts, your right thumb teasingly flicking at his nipple. Beel whimpers above you and the sound makes your crotch pulse with need.
Pressing a kiss to the flesh through his shirt, you ask, “When’s your next heat?”
Beel bites his lip, trying to hold in a moan as your lips move to suck at his nipple, leaving a wet spot on his shirt. “T-Two months from now.”
Reluctantly, you pull away from your demon. As much as you want to continue teasing him, you know you have to leave. There’s still shopping to do, dinner to make, and essays to write. “Promise to come to me during your next heat?”
“I promise.”
You smile, standing on your toes to properly kiss him. “Good. Now, why don’t you go change your shirt and come shopping with me? I’ll buy you that pudding you like.”
Beelzebub matches your grin, his previous embarrassment and arousal easily dissipating at the thought of food.
•••✦ ❤ ✦••• Submit A Request | Read on AO3 •••✦ ❤ ✦•••
#fullofbeeswrites#fullofbeesasks#anon request#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel x reader#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me beelzebub smut#nsft
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Walker (John Stones imagine) Part II
Part II, and guess what, there will be Part III as well. I got carried away with this one. I was afraid to write about John because I never did before, but I enjoyed this idea and the prompt. Anyway, thank you for the lovely comments and reblogs, especially from @bluemoonstonesy and @footballerimaginess whose work I admire. You know already: read, enjoy, heart, reblog, write me what you think (anon or not), but if you don’t want to, that’s okay too. I still love you 🥰
Part I
It had been almost a week since the little incident with the stranger that left Rosie wondering about him more than she dared to admit. No matter how much she tried to shake it off, she couldn't because there was something about him, aside from the familiarity of his face, that made her giddy by just thinking about their encounter.
Pulling at the Walker’s leash and twisting it tighter around her palm, she entered the main gate of the park just as the dusk was about to settle – a silent invitation for the evening. The rain that kept on drizzling the entire morning had stopped sometime mid-day, leaving a certain kind of musty smell in the air, but she didn’t mind it.
Just like everyone else, Rosie had no desire to be outside, but Walker did, and there was nothing she could do to coax the dog into staying indoors with a cuppa and something stupid on TV. So, she put on her brother’s raincoat that was way too big for her, and grabbed a few tote-bags, deciding to do some food shopping while giving Walker the much needed hour of activity.
“No, I am not letting you run now,” she mumbled softly as an answer to Walker’s whines, “sorry, boy, I know you want, but it’s too late, and you’ll get all dirty. Can’t stay up cleaning the carpet,” she continued, feeling extremely comfortable by herself in the park.
Walker shook his head vigorously as if annoyed with her, but kept on walking, passing the small, and with rain bloated rose-garden, several old and chipped benches before turning the corner where the large fountain was.
The same fountain where she met the stranger with the softest smile and blue eyes that didn’t want to let go of her mind.
The stranger.
He’s got a name, Rosie.
John. His name is John. John Something.
“Rosie!!” a male voice called out suddenly, making her slow down. Both her and Walker turned their heads towards the sound, and the dog let out a happy bark at the person on the other side of the park.
This time, he wasn’t shirtless, but wearing a dark tracksuit set with a light blue snood around his neck, pulled all the way up to cover his ears. Rosie’s heartbeat accelerated when she realised that he started jogging across the small path and towards her, and before she was able to do or say something, he was in front of her, with the smile she couldn’t stop thinking about, plastered across his face.
“Hi,” she mumbled, giving him a small wave, softly pulling at Walker’s leash to bring him closer to her feet.
“Fancy seeing you again,” he was still smiling, and Rosie felt her body fill with warmth, despite the chilly breeze. “Still dog-sitting?”
Rosie nodded. “Brother’s coming home tonight. That’s if he hasn’t vomited himself to death somewhere in Ibiza. He hasn’t responded to any of my texts since Wednesday,” she added with a smirk.
John smirked back, folding his snood inwards before crouching down to greet Walker. “To be fair, some of the best parties I’ve attended were on that magical island,” he admitted, squinting up at her.
“With your less-good looking mate Walker, I assume?” she inquired with a small raise of her eyebrow, earning a cheeky grin from John in response.
“You remembered,” he commented, almost inaudibly, scratching Walker’s head, and Rosie felt her cheeks redden.
She was maybe bad at doing maths and running, but remembering things was her forte.
“Well, yeah…” she mumbled back, feeling like a silly teenager in front of her crush.
John got back to his feet, and Rosie looked down at her own, nervously adjusting the heavy grocery bag that was digging into her bra-strap. She could feel his eyes on her, and it was making her slightly light-headed. Rosie was usually confident when it came to guys she fancied, but John had a different effect on her, and it scared her.
She didn’t even know him.
“Oh, let me help you with that,” John suddenly offered, and Rosie looked up, giving him a confusing look.
“Why?” she asked – her brows knitting together, making John chuckle.
“Why not?” he answered with a wink, taking the bag that she was holding in her hand without a warning – their fingertips brushing for a fraction of a second.
Rosie smiled as Walker started strolling in front of them as they made their way towards the park exit, and Rosie breathed out softly.
“Went to the store,” she started, needing to fill the silence that settled between the two of them like the dusk over the city, “I keep telling him that he’s an arse, but I couldn’t let him come back home to a tub of expired yogurt and something that resembled two bangers and a mash in a takeaway box, and—,” Rosie stopped abruptly, looking up at John with a sheepish smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. I tend to ramble sometimes.”
John gave her a smile, letting her know that it was okay. “Caring is not a bad trait to have, Rosie,” he murmured, opening the gate for her before letting her walk out first – the wrought iron squeaking when he closed it shut. Without hesitation, Rosie motioned with her free hand towards the street where her brother’s flat was. “You said you are actually from Manchester, right?”
She didn’t know why, but she felt she could trust him.
Famous last words.
“Yeah, I moved there about five years ago for uni, and stayed afterwards. Why?”
“Not only good at remembering things and caring for others, but also with a tendency to ask the same questions,” John teased, and Rosie felt her cheeks redden slightly. “I am just curious. I live in Manchester too. Well, Cheshire, but you know, it’s close.”
Rosie smirked up at him as they neared her brother’s flat, and purposely, she slowed down to buy herself more time in his company. “Isn’t that where all the rich and famous live?”
“Who says I’m not rich and famous?” he laughed, throwing his head back, and Rosie stopped at the entryway to her brother’s flat.
“Well…” she trailed off, reaching out her hand to take the grocery bag from him, “this is it. Thank you for the help. I thought that chivalry is dead, but I guess it’s not.”
A brief moment of silence washed over them, and Rosie looked up at him – the hood of her jacket sliding from her head. John smiled softly, and for what seemed like an eternity, they kept looking at one another. Rosie wanted to speak; say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she kept looking at him – eyes focusing on his own rather than his full lips.
“I’ll be straightforward, Rosie,” he started leaning in closer, “once we’re both back in Manchester, I’d like to see you again.”
Rosie felt her cheeks starting to heat up even more, and Walker, as if sensing the moment that was happening, stopped moving around and looked up, quietly observing what was happening.
“I thought you said you live in Cheshire?”
“I do, but I also own a car,” John responded gently, and Rosie wondered if he sensed the nervousness that filled her body.
Without a word, she reached her hand in the pocket of her brother’s jacket, taking out a pen and the shopping list, where she had quickly listed the things she wanted to buy earlier that day. “I don’t have my phone with me,” she whispered, “but here…” Rosie trailed off, using the doorway as a surface while she scribbled her phone number, drawing a small dog’s head at bottom. “Just text me.”
**
Thanks for reading.
#john stones#john stones imagine#manchester city#john stones fanfiction#england nt#football fanfic#football fanfiction#football imagines#soccer imagines#soccer fanfiction#england nt fanfiction
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I posted 16,669 times in 2021
39 posts created (0%)
16630 posts reblogged (100%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 426.4 posts.
I added 58 tags in 2021
#always reblog foxes - 16 posts
#gorgeous people - 12 posts
#ffxv - 6 posts
#i am so gay - 5 posts
#omg - 5 posts
#spn - 4 posts
#amazing - 3 posts
#critical role - 3 posts
#dinosaur - 2 posts
#and - 2 posts
Longest Tag: 99 characters
#i remember being really upset the summer i was thirteen because i didn't get my magical best friend
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Aren’t you a little old to be into all this
Into what, anon?
You've sent this to my main, where I post stuff about fiber-arts, politics, sociology, pictures of landscapes, videos of cute animals, that fucking chocolate guy, aesthetic photographs, so many foxes, and, oh yeah, media.
I'm guessing it's the last one you're angling at, and the one you're using to get a rise out of me.
But I don't really feel any shame in engaging with the mythology of the modern world, with the stories that humans currently tell themselves, as we've been doing in one form or another since we first looked up at the stars and at the world around us, and created narratives to explain the wonders that we saw.
Enjoying and creating stories is an integral part of human existence, and not one that goes away when you reach an arbitrary number of times around the sun.
So...no. I'm not "too old" to enjoy it. Someone 10, 20, 30, 40 years my senior is not too old to be into "all this". There is no expiration date on any human experience, and you have plenty of time left to find joys in life you didn't know existed when you were younger.
Don't cut yourself off from them because of something so inconsequential as your age.
38 notes • Posted 2021-12-01 01:14:13 GMT
#4
It is okay to be relieved and happy when someone who has oppressed you dies and can’t keep doing it.
You’re not “dropping down” to the level of someone who hurts you when you celebrate the cessation of pain.
46 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 00:20:21 GMT
#3
My fox skull from @blackbackedjackal arrived!! It’s absolutely gorgeous and I’m super, super happy!
Thanks again!
(and if anyone knows of any other else I should tag this, let me know)
56 notes • Posted 2021-05-28 22:11:27 GMT
#2
@prayforelves The little ram is here!
I love him so much, your work is incredible and your packing was excellent and I am SO happy to have him on my shelf!
71 notes • Posted 2021-10-07 18:28:17 GMT
#1
Dash did a thing
155 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 01:42:00 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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Dawn - MINHO
LOOK I KNOW I’VE SCREAMED ABOUT THIS FOR LIKE A DAY BUT I’M SO FUCKING EXCITED I CAN’T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS IN LESS THAN TWO DAYS. THANK U ANON WHO ASKED ME TO WRITE THIS YOU PULLED ME OUT OF WRITER’S BLOCK (constellation is giving me ISSUES)
pls don’t let this flop i’ll be v v sad
Pairing: Minho x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au
Triggers: mild violence (nothing too graphic), death
Word Count: 9.2k
For many, twenty-one signals a new beginning. But for some, it only marks the end of freedom.
SKZ Masterlist
Twenty-one. Minho hates that number. It signals the beginning of change, the beginning of the end of everything he’s come to know and love.
Twenty-one. How old he will be when he comes of age. How old he will be at his coronation. How old he will be when his parents will expect him to find a partner. A partner who is rich. A partner who has power. A partner who will rule with him until the end of their days.
A partner who will bear them grandchildren.
The door slams behind him and Minho doesn’t even bother to disguise his annoyance as he stalks down the hall, boots clicking loudly against the marble floor. He can almost hear the sighs emanating from his parents behind the wooden doors, but he pushes the thought of that out of his mind.
Twenty-one. For many, it signals something exciting. Coming of age. Becoming an adult. Setting out on a new life with someone they love.
But not for Minho. His coming kingship will only be an extension of all he’s been learning for the past twenty years. His parents have been asking for his input on running the kingdom for the past five. Now, he’ll just be fully taking the reins. Not much new.
Well, he gets a new crown. Minho rolls his eyes at the thought. Another useless and heavy ornament to make his head ache and his scalp itch.
His mother’s previous words echo in his head. “You must choose a partner over the next two weeks. If you do not, we will be forced to.”
“No one’s forcing you to do anything,” Minho grumbles under his breath. He dreads the next two weeks more than anything else in his life. The celebrations for the first week will mark his birthday. The celebrations for the next week will mark his coronation.
The thought makes him sick to his stomach. Not because he doesn’t feel ready to rule, but mostly because he isn’t ready for all of his (limited) freedom to be taken away in such a rush. Already he can feel the seconds ticking away, marking off every moment of his remaining time as a prince.
Minho sighs. His feet have taken him to the ballroom, his favorite place in the palace. He looks up at the doors and sighs again, even more heavily. He still has two weeks, Minho reasons. Might as well have some fun with it.
With that, he disappears through the large gilt doors.
. . .
Twenty-one. You hate that number. It signals the end of your life as you know it.
The literal end.
“Curses,” you mumble, tugging at the gem resting against your throat. It glimmers in the moonlight, a brilliant sparkle against the pure white feathers of your dress.
You wonder for the umpteenth time why your uncle chose you as the successor of the forest instead of his only son. Chan was strong and powerful – much more powerful than you, at any rate. Shouldn’t your uncle have seen beforehand what sort of destruction Chan would cause if he chose you over him?
But you know the answer why. Had your uncle chosen Chan, the demise of the forest would have come much more quickly than it already has. At least the years Chan spent hiding away, learning the dark arts, allowed you to increase your strength and magic. Had Chan been appointed ruler of the forest, he would have destroyed it much more quickly in his quest for power. At least now you can fight back.
Somewhat.
You wonder, also for the umpteenth time, what your uncle would say if he knew how Chan had cursed you.
Ruler by night, swan by day. If the graceful plumage of your dress doesn’t serve as enough of a reminder of your situation, the constant transformations at sunrise and sunset certainly drive you insane. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the awful transition between the two forms.
Well, in two weeks, on your twenty-first birthday, maybe you won’t have to.
Immediately you shake those thoughts away. It’s too terrifying to think of, being forced to spend the rest of your life as a swan.
The only way to avoid the permanent transformation is to break Chan’s curse. The “easiest” way to do that is by killing him. But Chan is careful, very careful. Despite your and your friends’ best efforts, you cannot find a way to corner him.
Your uncle once told you that you were far more powerful than Chan would ever be. He said this just two days after he appointed you his successor, the day after Chan disappeared. Terrified and confused, you’d only watched numbly as he clasped a necklace around your throat.
“This will protect you,” he’d said quietly. “It is imbued with a magic as old as time – Chan will not be able to fully surpass it, ever. However, its magic will expire on your twenty-first birthday. You must find your own power before then.”
“Twenty-one,” you murmur, clutching the gem tight in your fist. “The end of everything and the beginning of nothing.”
You stand up on the soft grass, feathers sweeping gently across your arms. Twenty-one or no, you are still the ruler of the forest, and you have a duty to aid those who live under your protection. Another night of patrol, of helping the wounded, of fighting off the growing threats Chan has been sending into your territory.
Another night gone by before the day you become a bird forever.
. . . . .
Throngs of people crowd the streets and Minho smiles behind his mask of pale green. He’s slipped away from the castle, only letting Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix know where he’s going. Changbin and Hyunjin are somewhere in the crowd watching over him. Felix stayed in the palace to cover for his absence.
For a few precious hours, Minho has freedom. No one knows him behind his mask. No one knows him behind his forest nymph costume. Clothed in earthy green and brown, he looks like just another reveler in the streets, celebrating the coming birthday of the country’s beloved crown prince.
He used to think the costume concept was stupid. Now, he’s very grateful for the tradition.
The moon rises quickly into the sky as the last rays of the sun fade, and Minho finds himself pushed into a crowd of dancers. As the moon climbs higher into the stars, the cheery dance tunes dissipate, leaving behind cool, calm lyricism to honor the heavens who put the country’s kind rulers upon their thrones.
He dances with person after person, whirling from one hand to another as gasping laughter turns to serene smiles under the blanket of stars overhead. In between songs, he breaks through the dancing throng for a breather.
Then he sees a vision. That is what you must be – no human glows like that under the moon. No human is the vision of ethereal beauty that you are. You only sway slightly to the beat of the song, but even your simple movements are like a ripple of shining silk – graceful, ethereal.
As though in a trance, he finds himself walking towards where you stand on the outskirts of the crowd. You turn around as he steps closer and Minho has to fight for breath.
Even with an ivory mask covering your face, he can tell you’re a true picture of elegance. Your dress is made entirely of pure white feathers, and your mask protrudes slightly at the nose, like a beak. A swan, he thinks dazedly.
Warm, dark eyes stare into his – delicate, pure, but with a hint of fire that only increases his attraction to you.
“May I help you?”
Minho thinks he’s having a heart attack. Only that would explain his inability to breathe or think properly. Your voice only makes you more attractive.
“I apologize if I startled you, my lady.” He bows. “I could not help but notice you had no dance partner and thought that such a beauty should not only sway on the sidelines. I wonder if you would like to dance with me?”
The half-second of waiting is the most excruciating moment of Minho’s life so far. All the breath rushes out of him when you nod your head slightly and take his hand, a smile curving your lips. “I would.”
. . .
When Ryujin and the others encouraged you to go to the celebrations (read: shoved you out of the forest), you didn’t know why. Immediately you’d attempted to slip back between the trees, but Yeji’s and Jeongin’s glares were too scary.
“You’re spending all your time worrying about the curse and the forest,” Lia had explained. “We can patrol for one night. Take some time to relax at the celebrations – we’ll call you back if there is anything urgent.”
You weren’t sure at the time. But right now, clasped in the arms of a man in a green mask, you’re glad you came. You feel calm. Relaxed. His touch somehow soothes your skin and clears away the worries in your mind, leaving you with a smile on your face that is far easier and lighter than the ones you’ve been forcing recently.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met. Having known Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung, and Kim Seungmin, most men you know have a lot of competition. However, even though most of his face is hidden behind his mask, you can tell your dancing partner can rival them all.
He’s ethereal. Graceful. He whirls you around in twists and turns and leaves you breathless with the utter elegance with which he moves. You haven’t danced this way in a long time, not since your uncle died. The last time you danced was on his birthday. Two days before Chan killed him.
You shove those thoughts away.
As the moon travels the night sky, you lose yourself in the dance again, in the warm brown eyes of your partner and the dizzying press of his hands against yours. Small talk and quiet laughter contrast with the raucous crowd, but you don’t care. For now, the world only consists of your partner and you.
Too soon, though, someone calls “Prince Minho!” and your partner’s expression deflates, his warm eyes dimming. “I must go now,” he says, holding your hands tightly. “You know my name now, but may I have one from you?”
“Y/N,” you reply, smiling sadly. You will likely never see the prince – Minho – again. Both because of your situation and his status.
“Will I see you again?” he asks, eyes sparkling with hope.
It breaks your heart to do it, but you shake your head. “Probably not,” you murmur. “I am not from here, and I must return to my home as soon as I can.”
There’s a little silence.
“May I at least see your face, then?” Minho finally asks. “I would like to remember the woman who so enchanted me tonight.”
You smile, bringing your hands to your mask. “If you will let me see yours.”
It seems to take an eternity for Minho to bring down his mask, but there isn’t enough time in the world to drink in the sight of his face. He’s beautiful – cat-like eyes, pink lips, a graceful nose. His features are even more enhanced by your knowledge of his ringing laugh and gentle character.
“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined,” you whisper. A hand goes up to caress his cheek.
“I could say the same for you, my lady,” Minho says, raising a hand to cover the one you’ve placed on his face. He brings it down, holding your fingers tightly in his grasp. “If on the off chance I see you again, I hope you will remember me.” He presses a kiss to your knuckles.
You smile. “I could never forget.”
Someone calls Minho’s name again and he enters the crowd, giving you one last wave. You wave back and watch until he fully disappears into the throng.
If only you had time. If only you weren’t cursed. If only you could tell Minho yes, you would definitely see him again.
“If only,” you whisper, absently touching the place on your knuckles where his lips brushed your skin. “If only.”
. . . . .
“Has he been like this all day?” Felix asks in a stage whisper. He puts on an innocent expression when Minho turns around to shoot him an annoyed look, but it’s clear he meant for Minho to hear.
“Obviously.” Hyunjin leans against the wall, flipping through a book. “Want to know why?”
“Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to the all the stars –”
“He met a girl,” Changbin jeers, fake-swooning even as Minho throws a pen at him. He effortlessly dodges anyway, as would be expected of the head of the prince’s guard.
Memories of your gentle touch, your delicate face, and the spark of burning fire in your deep eyes flood Minho’s mind and not for the first time since your parting, Minho aches to see you again. But your voice and the despondent look on your face told him that such a meeting probably won’t happen again.
Still, though, Minho is glad he met you. Because if only for a few hours, at least, he felt completely relaxed. Free. And maybe in love.
If you’d seen her, you might understand, Changbin.
Felix gasps, as per his duties as the melodramatic younger brother. “A girl?”
Minho refuses to answer.
“But isn’t that a good thing?” Felix’s eyebrows furrow and he drops onto the seat next to Minho. “You know who you want to marry now! More or less, anyway? So Mother can stop beating you up over finding a wife?”
A deep sigh leaves Minho’s lips. That’s what he would have hoped too. But given your response from last night, he doesn’t think that will happen at all. “She lives far away from here,” he mumbles. “Said she probably couldn’t see me again. Plus, I have no idea of her social status. Mother might not even approve.”
“Maybe we can find her,” Hyunjin volunteers, closing the book. “What was her name?”
“Y/N. But don’t try to find her,” he says. “I don’t think she would take very kindly to that. We may or may not meet again. Neither of us knows.”
Silence.
“But even if you meet again, it might be too late.” Felix’s voice is unusually somber. Changbin and Hyunjin shoot him warning looks, but Minho’s far from blowing up. What Felix said is very true. He might very well have a wife picked by his parents’ hands by the time he sees you next. Assuming he ever sees you again.
Changbin’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “I think we need a break,” he says brusquely. “Your lessons are finished and everyone’s preparing for the celebrations tomorrow, so I don’t think we’ll be missed if we go on a hunt.” He grins.
“A hunt?” Minho echoes.
“Yes.”
“The ambassador gifted you a new bow yesterday, right? Why not try it out?” Felix’s eyes sparkle with excitement.
A small smile spreads on Minho’s face. “Why not?”
. . .
The sun has begun to sink in the sky as you circle over the lake, your maidens following behind. Soon, you’ll be human again, but you need to land before that happens so you don’t go crash-landing onto the ground.
You’ve just begun your descent onto the silvery water when Lia’s voice crashes into your mind.
Y/N, watch out!
You jerk upwards, looking behind you. Terror races through your veins when you see the huge hawk tearing through the trees.
Chan hasn’t appeared so blatantly like this in years, not since the day he cursed you into your current form. But the bird is unmistakably him – you can see it in the hatred in the hawk’s eyes.
What is he doing here? He knows he can’t kill you just yet – the magic on your uncle’s necklace will have to wear off first – so why is he here already?
Your wings flap faster and you shoot forward, spurred on by the raw terror you feel for your cousin. If there was once any affection between you two, it is now long gone.
Run, Y/N. His cruel voice echoes through your mind. Or should I say fly? That’s all you can do, isn’t it? Hide from danger instead of facing it like a true ruler?
You close your mind, the one thing you’ve learned to do perfectly since Chan left. When he first disappeared, his voice used to torment you for hours on end until your uncle taught you to shut him out. Your thoughts become blissfully empty for a moment until terror takes over again.
Greenery flashes beneath you as you soar through the trees, weaving between trunks and ducking under branches. You hear noises that suggest your maidens are attempting to help, but Chan has his own followers to fight them off.
The sun is just beginning to fade over the horizon. Heartened by the sight, you curve your path, attempting to make it back to the lake where you can defend yourself on solid ground. Your human form can do nothing in the air.
With a crow of joy, you dive down to the lake, heart beating wildly in relief as you paddle to the edge of the water. The sun finally sinks beneath the horizon, and you endure the agony of the transformation back to a human.
You hear Jisung screeching and Lia yelling. The voices of your other friends sound from various parts of the forest. You turn around to greet them but stop short when you see the man standing in front of you.
By all the stars, how could this happen?
“Minho?”
. . .
Everything happened way too quickly for Minho to process. All he knows is that he was aiming with his arrow, planning to strike down one of the birds in flight – preferably the swan, because what a prize that would have been for the castle – but he lowered his weapons, mesmerized by the bird’s grace even in the face of danger.
It reminded him of you. Pure, perfect, delicate, yet still a fighter. Fighting to survive. He couldn’t kill it.
And then the bird turned out to be you.
For now, he stands dumbstruck, staring at your perfect face.
I just watched a swan turn into a human.
Maybe if he blinks really hard, this will just be a hallucination. Maybe he fell off his horse while hunting and got knocked out and now he’s dreaming.
He blinks once, then twice. There is no doubt that it’s you. Your dress is the same. Your necklace is the same. Your warm eyes, wide with shock, are the same. So is your face.
Not a dream.
I just watched a swan turn into the girl I might have fallen in love with and it’s not a dream.
A shudder of terror and relief runs down Minho’s spine. He’s suddenly very, very glad that he did not release the arrow.
“Minho?” you whisper again, stepping slightly closer. “How… how did you get here? How did you get into the forest?”
Minho swallows hard. “I… just rode in? On my horse?”
“That shouldn’t have been possible,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. “Who…?”
Then the hawk lands and for the second time in less than five minutes, a bird transforms into a person. Minho thinks he might just faint right then and there.
This person has blond curls and skin as pale as the moon. Handsome, yes, but with a dangerously evil glint in his eye that sends fear spiking into Minho’s heart.
Your eyes turn dark. “You let him in.”
The newcomer raises his arms in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture, smiling coldly. “I might not be able to kill you yet, but a human with human weapons certainly can. I just thought it was a golden opportunity when I saw him on his horse.” His smile turns into a snarl. “But again, I overestimated how useful humans can be. Should’ve used the earthen elves.” The dark eyes lock onto Minho’s, rendering him frozen. “You were supposed to shoot her, you know.”
“Good thing I didn’t,” Minho snaps.
The cold laugh that echoes through the forest sends chills up his spine. “An amusing human. Too bad that you must die.”
“Enough.” You step in front of Minho and he’s a little ashamed to admit his relief, though it quickly turns to worry for your safety. “You brought him in here, Chan, didn’t you? So let him go. He has nothing to do with this anymore.”
“But why?” The man – Chan – cocks an eyebrow. “He knows about us now. He saw you and I transform. Shouldn’t you want him dead as well?”
“Is killing your only solution to everything?” The calmness of your voice astounds Minho, but the whiteness of your clenched knuckles gives your tension away.
“Oh, I don’t enjoy killing, cousin.” Chan smirks. “I only do it when necessary.”
And without warning, he raises an arm and a bolt of light shoots straight at Minho’s chest.
. . .
You never knew you could move so fast. All you knew in the moment was that Minho couldn’t die, not at the hands of your evil cousin.
Chan’s bolt of light strikes your shimmering shield with a crash that reverberates through the trees and sends ripples across the lake. For a terrifying second, the shield almost splits under the pressure of Chan’s power. But the knowledge that Minho will die if you don’t fight steels your mind and the shield shimmers brighter, stronger.
With a shout that’s more akin to a roar, you send the ball of light flying back at Chan. The momentary pride you feel at deflecting his attack fades quickly when you realize how drained you are. Chan, on the other hand, doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.
Not fair.
“You’ve improved, I’ll give you that.” Chan smiles coldly. “We’ll see if it’s enough by next week.”
Your nails dig into your palm. “Get out of my forest.”
“It won’t be yours much longer, dear cousin. I’ll be back.” He disappears into a swirl of black.
“I don’t doubt it,” you mutter.
“Um, Y/N?” Minho’s confused voice breaks into your thoughts. “I’m sorry, but… what just happened?”
Right. Now you need to explain.
“Walk with me.” You give him an apologetic glance. “I’ll explain everything as I make my rounds.”
You thank all the heavens for Minho’s silence as you explain the situation. How your uncle chose you to rule instead of his son, Chan. How Chan came back and cursed you into your swan form but your uncle’s magic protected you enough to keep you from permanently transforming until your twenty-first birthday, which is less than two weeks away.
“You should not be here,” you say bluntly, eyes roving the trees for anything out of the ordinary. “The forest is only visible to those who live in it, unless someone shows you the way in.”
Minho nods. “That makes sense. I thought it was strange that I’d never seen this part of the forest before. Did Chan…?”
Your lips curl. “I suppose. He probably lured you here too.”
It’s a quiet night. When you and Minho fall silent, it’s as though the entire forest is waiting for one of you to speak.
“I almost released the arrow,” Minho says quietly. It takes you a moment to hear him, then another to comprehend his words. And when you realize what he means, all you can really say is “oh.”
Silence again.
“Why didn’t you?” you finally ask.
Minho shrugs. His eyes bore into yours. “The swan… as I watched you flying, it reminded me of you. Of our dance. I felt I couldn’t kill such grace.”
You feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “I see.”
“This curse…” Minho trails off, then takes your hand. “Is there any way I can help?”
If only.
“I wish you could.” You smile gently, trying to hide your own pain. “I’m afraid this is a battle between just Chan and I.”
One that he’ll probably win.
“Do you know how to defeat him? Any idea?” Minho presses.
You snort a little. “I somehow have to unlock my power. Once I find it, I should be able to overpower Chan. My uncle once told me I would be more powerful than Chan someday, but I can’t see how that could be true.”
The two of you fall silent again. Then Minho takes both of your hands in his.
“Y/N.” He forces you to look at him. “You have a reservoir of strength in you that I believe is only untapped. Once you realize your power, I have no doubt that you will be able to defeat your cousin.”
“I have less than two weeks, Minho.” You smile sadly.
Somehow, the two of you have made it through the forest and are back at the lake. Moonlight shimmers in the smooth surface and reflects onto Minho’s face, illuminating it in the night. He looks ethereal under the moon’s pale rays and your heart skips a beat.
“Don’t lose hope.” Minho smiles. “I believe in you.”
His words touch you in a way that nearly brings tears to your eyes. “Thank you,” you murmur.
“I should go now. My friends are probably worried.” Minho adjusts the bow on his shoulder. “Will… will I see you again?”
You want to say yes. You really, really want to say yes, but that could just put Minho in more harm’s way. But he already knows about the forest, and you don’t trust yourself to do a memory wipe on him.
There is a way to keep him safe.
“Yes, but wait a moment.” You remove your hand from his. “Don’t move.”
Breathing deeply, you muster your powers until the growing warmth in your heart manifests into a small, pulsating ball of magic in your hand. With a soft breath, you blow the magic onto Minho, watching as the sparkles settle and disappear into his skin.
“This will protect you from my cousin,” you tell him. “I may not be able to fight directly, but I am quite good at defensive magic. He won’t be able to easily curse you. But you must be careful not to let anyone know where you’re going and trust no one. Chan has many spies, both human and nonhuman.”
“Thank you,” Minho breathes. He reaches forward and squeezes your hand.
Bravery rushes through your veins and you kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. For choosing not to shoot. For wanting to help.”
Minho looks slightly red under the moonlight, though he has enough sauciness left in him to press a kiss to your hand. “I will see you soon.”
The memory of his lips stays with you long after he’s disappeared.
. . . . .
Chan remains suspiciously quiet for the next few days, allowing Minho to come and go quietly. Every time you ask him if anything happened, he’s happy – but also worried – to shake his head and reassure you that he’s been fine.
The nights spent walking with you on the soft grass become the times when Minho feels the most at home in a way he could never feel in the palace. Surrounded by nature and greenery with the occasional burst of sparkling magic, a certain warmth fills Minho that he could never find in the cold, marble walls of the palace. Despite the terror he felt that first day in the forest, he finds himself grimly thanking Chan for the opportunity to come here.
For the opportunity to see you again.
Typically, Minho isn’t one to believe in romantic ideas like love at first sight. That’s more of Hyunjin’s job – whenever the guard isn’t on duty, anyone can find him in the library, reading yet another romance novel. Once, Minho took a peek at the pages. He almost threw up right then and there, and he’d teased Hyunjin for an entire week afterwards.
If Hyunjin knew what was happening right now – well, if any of his friends knew, really – they would be teasing him to no tomorrow. But Minho doesn’t care anymore. The feelings in his chest might have scared him at first, but after a week of coming to the forest, he’s ready to embrace them.
First love. Minho is sure this is what it is. He thinks about you at all times of the day, hoping that your swan form is safe from predators, praying that Chan doesn’t find some way to defeat you just yet. He lives for the times he gets to see you, glowing under the moonlit sky.
On the night of his birthday, he sneaks away from the palace and dances with you under a canopy of trees and stars, the still waters of the lake shimmering in the distance.
“I love you, Y/N,” Minho confesses that night just before he has to leave. “I know it’s only been a week, but I swear by the stars, I love you.”
Though a smile settles on your face, your eyes turn sad. You drop your gaze to his hand linked with yours. “I love you too, Minho.” You swallow hard and look up. “I really do.”
Neither of you say the words bouncing through your minds, but they hang in the air anyway, creating a thick blanket of tension that threatens to suffocate the two of you.
Minho ignores it. “Will you come to the palace next week?” he asks. His heart swells with hope. “It would be an honor to dance with you the night before my coronation.”
At that, you hang your head. “I cannot promise, Minho.”
It’s what he expected. His coronation is your birthday, and you need to break your curse before then. There was little chance, if any, that you could come. Even so, Minho feels a bit dejected. “I understand,” he forces out.
“I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand. “If I could…”
“I know.” He presses a kiss on your cheek. “But just in case, I’ll be waiting for you.”
“On the day of, I will send a message to you.” You smile shakily. “You will know if I’m coming or not on the day.”
“So last minute,” Minho teases. “But no matter. I will wait.”
“We don’t think Chan will come into the open until that day, but all the same, I think you should avoid the forest for the next week,” you caution. “He’s been suspiciously quiet, which only means he’s planning something. I don’t want you to get caught in it.”
Minho furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t like it – he understands the risk, but he wants to be at your side in case you’re in danger. There is little doubt in his mind that you can hold your own, at least for a while, but he wants to be there for you.
“Do you have a plan?” he asks.
You frown slightly. “He can’t hurt me until my birthday. He’s sure to remain in hiding until the day before, then strike at midnight. I will just have to be ready then.”
Minho frowns. He hates that plan. There’s so many variables and so little certainty of anything.
“I know you don’t like it.” You smile sadly. “I don’t either. I want to see you for the rest of my days. But it would kill me if you were hurt, so for my sake, please don’t come.”
“Not even tomorrow?”
“Don’t pout at me.” You reach over and straighten his lips into a line. “That’s better. And no, not even tomorrow.”
Minho attempts to smile. “If I can’t see you until my coronation, may I request one thing from you?”
“Within reason.” A bit of sparkle comes back into your eyes and Minho drinks in the sight, knowing he won’t be able to see it for at least another week.
“May I kiss you?” he breathes.
Breathlessly, he waits for your tiny nod of approval, then leans forward to slot his lips against yours. And in that kiss, he pours all of the emotions he feels for you that he could never put into words.
You sigh slightly against his lips and pull him closer. Minho feels heady with bliss at the pressure of your lips on his, the touch of your hands on his face. He holds your waist, rubbing soft circles against the feathers of your dress.
Finally, you break away for air. With pink cheeks and bright eyes, Minho thinks you look more beautiful than you ever have before.
“You should go,” you finally whisper. “It’s nearing dawn.”
Minho sighs. “I’ll wait for your answer on my coronation day. If you come, I might just give you another kiss.” He winks.
Cringing slightly, you turn away. “I guess I’m not going, then,” you mutter.
“Your smile tells me otherwise.” Minho swoops in and plants a last kiss on your cheek, then on your lips. “Good luck, my swan.”
It’s the first time he’s ever called you that. But the name slips from his mouth so easily that he knows, should he ever see you again, that that will be his name for you. His swan.
You reach up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my prince.”
. . . . .
One day passes without trouble. Then a second. And a third. And a fourth.
By the fifth, you’re a nervous wreck. As a swan, you flutter from tree to tree restlessly, just waiting for trouble in the form of Chan to appear. Tomorrow is the day before your birthday. Chan is sure to strike sometime then.
It’s also the night before Minho’s coronation.
You’ve decided not to go. Chan will follow you anywhere, so better you fight him in the forest than in a ballroom full of humans. Fewer deaths. Fewer casualties.
Though who knows how many of those there will be if Chan wins.
Hopelessness settles in your veins as the sun begins to set. You land on the lake, limbs heavy but head buzzing with adrenaline. Your fellow swan maidens land beside you, all peering nervously into the forest.
I have a bad feeling, Yuna murmurs.
We all do, Ryujin snaps.
You shush them.
Gliding along the lake, you wait for the sun to disappear, for night to take the place of day. So absorbed are you in the rays that you barely hear the slight whizzing of something flying by your beak.
Fly!
Immediately you flap your wings, attempting to lift off from the water. But something strikes your side and immediately you feel woozy. Wings limp, you drop back into the lake with a splash. Next to you, your maidens go limp as well.
Just as you black out, something tugs your unresisting body to shore.
. . .
Minho slips into bed, gazing out of his window at the full moon. He wonders if you’re safe, then remembers you must be. The jewel. Your necklace. You will be okay for now.
He has to believe it.
“Until tomorrow,” he whispers. Tomorrow, he will have word from you. Tomorrow.
He closes his eyes and drifts into a fitful sleep.
. . .
You wake, head throbbing and wrists tied, in a tiny room. Your five maidens lie around you in various states of wakefulness, ranging from mostly still conked out (Lia) to more or less alert (Yeji). All of you are human.
“They shot us with something,” Ryujin groans, uselessly trying to free her wrists.
You nod slowly. “Undoubtedly Chan’s work. He probably hired some of the earthen elves and their poison darts.” Your lips curl into a snarl. “Someone needs to get out of here and find Minho.”
“Right.” Chaeryeong fixes her gaze on you. “Let’s get you out.”
“No.” You shake your head. “Not me.”
Five pairs of eyes stare at you. “Why?” Yuna finally asks.
“I can’t be killed yet.” You grimly indicate the necklace against your throat. “I have one day left. If I go, Chan has no reason to keep the rest of you alive. If I stay, he does.”
“You know we would all die for you.” Yeji’s gaze, uncharacteristically serious, pins you down. The weight of her words settles on your shoulders.
“And I, you. But this isn’t the time for any of us to die.” You spit a piece of hair out of your mouth. “One of you needs to get out and alert Minho.” Your gaze turns to Lia. “You have the best sense of direction and you’re small enough to fit through that window in the corner.”
“Y/N –”
“No questions.” Steely-eyed, you stare each maiden down. “If you argue, I will command you. As your queen.”
That settles it. The four of you struggle to undo the bonds on Lia’s wrists, rubbing a rusty nail against the ropes until she’s free. She quickly tosses the rope out of the window and with a final look in your direction, she jumps out too.
You barely have enough time for a sigh of relief before the door slams open.
. . .
Minho paces his room, already fitted into his suit and crown. There’s no chance he can escape tonight – the suit will immediately give him away.
But tonight, he isn’t supposed to escape. He’s supposed to wait. For you.
The small clock in his room ticks again. He forces himself not to look – he’s been doing that for the past few hours.
You promised to send someone. So why hasn’t anyone come? Are you in trouble? Did Chan appear?
What if you’re dead?
No.
Minho shakes his head firmly. Your necklace will protect you until midnight. Chan couldn’t have killed you yet. Maybe you got sidetracked. It’s entirely possible.
Still, he wishes you would hurry.
. . .
With a final scream, your weak shield shatters. You hang your head, refusing to let Chan see the tears dripping down your cheeks.
It’s humiliating. When you turned to swans at dawn, he threw you all into cages. When you turned human again, he tied you up. You never had much pride to begin with, but it feels like half of anything you had left is gone.
You’ve failed. You can’t even keep up a simple shield to save your friends. With your hands newly tied with ropes imbued with Chan’s spells, you’re helpless against him.
Your cousin only laughs. “Pitiful.” You can hear the sneer in his voice. “I can’t understand why my father ever chose you over me.” He shakes his head, blond curls falling into his eyes. Tiredly, you think what a handsome and good man he could’ve been had he not fallen to the darkness.
“Have you ever heard that those who desire power the most are the ones who deserve it the least?” You blink the last of the tears from your eyes and look up at the person you hate the most in this world.
Chan’s eyes darken into something maniacal, something worse than evil. But despite the fear rushing through your blood, you refuse to look away.
“I deserve the forest far more than you ever did,” he snarls.
You brace yourself for the next hit and pray to the heavens that Lia made it.
. . .
Minho feels his heart dropping to his stomach as he gazes over the crowd. You’re not here. You haven’t sent any messages.
You’ve broken your promise.
Hyunjin side-eyes him. “Looking for someone?” he asks.
There’s no use hiding it. Minho nods.
Then the doors open at the top of the stairs. He looks up.
There, in a dress of pure white feathers, stands you. Your eyes catch his and you send him a shy smile.
Minho’s heart is about to beat out of his chest.
You’re here.
. . .
Lia swoops down into the palace gardens, bypassing the guards and their swords. The sun dips below the trees just as she takes shelter behind a large clump of bushes to transform.
She hopes that the dress her human form gives her is suitable for a ball.
Stealth has never been Lia’s best point, but she somehow manages to enter the palace without anyone seeing her. Once inside, she simply acts slightly wine drunk, allowing a tired guard to escort her into the ballroom.
But her sigh of relief is cut off when she realizes what’s happening at the center of the room.
Y/N?
She shakes her head. It can’t be her. How could Y/N be here, when she’s probably being tortured at this moment at Chan’s hideout?
This must be one of Chan’s tricks.
“Prince!” she screeches, shoving through the throng of people. “Prince! Prince Minho!”
He doesn’t hear her.
“PRINCE!” she screams, pushing the last person out of her way. Finally, he hears her and looks her way.
Lia’s heart drops. Something isn’t right. Minho’s eyes are slightly unfocused, and she’s never seen this dopey look on his face before. Not even after he kissed Y/N.
Enchanted.
“Lia?” Some of the dopiness melts away, replaced with confusion. “Why…?”
“Prince.” She stalks forward. “This is not Y/N. Chan sent this person as a fake. Changed their appearance. Made an illusion. I don’t know. She’s not Y/N because Y/N is being held this very minute in Chan’s hideout and you need to come with me now.”
The dopey, unfocused look comes back to Minho’s eyes. “But Y/N is right here?”
“Yes, I’m right here.” The look that the poser sends Lia is perfectly innocent, perfectly delicate, perfectly calculated.
It has to be an illusion. No human is that perfect. Least of all Y/N.
“Minho, listen to me.” A crowd has formed, but no one’s tried to stop her yet so she plows on. “This is not your real Y/N. Look at her face. Look at her eyes. She may look like Y/N but she’s an illusion. Wake up, Prince!”
The prince looks between Lia and the poser, confusion and doubt flitting over his face. Then someone grabs her arm from behind.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I will take her away,” a guard says over her shoulder. But Lia takes no notice, attention fixated on the dagger at the guard’s side.
She draws the blade with her free arm and the guard shouts, immediately letting her go. Ignoring the cries of fear, she aims.
“Watch, Prince.”
The dagger sails through the air right into the illusion’s chest.
Screams echo throughout the ballroom but no blood flows. The poser’s face registers shock, then blankness as her body dissolves into the air. The dagger clatters to the floor.
All the confusion clears from the prince’s eyes. His skin turns white. “Two horses,” he snaps at a shell-shocked guard. Then he turns to Lia. “Please take me to Y/N. Immediately.”
. . .
The clock in Chan’s room reads a quarter to twelve. At least, that’s what you think it reads. It’s hard to see through the sweat and blood dripping into your eyes.
Fifteen minutes or less. That’s all you have. The hope that Lia will come back starts to fade away.
“Why don’t you just kill me now, cousin?” You spit blood out of your mouth, wishing your friends were still here to bolster your confidence. Chan threw them back into the room after they made too loud a ruckus. But the sounds of them still banging against the door give you a little more strength.
Chan smiles easily, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. It’s almost like you two are children again, sitting across from each other and playing games.
Then another drop of sweat stings in your eye and you get rid of any illusions of childhood.
“Oh, Y/N, you always knew I was bad with human weapons.” He laughs coldly. “And they’re all made of iron, you know? Wouldn’t want to burn myself.”
You spit in his face. “If you can’t kill me from this short range with a human weapon, I don’t know if you’re really strong enough to be a king. And I’m sure you could come up with a spell to protect your precious skin, if you’re as capable and powerful as you say.”
“Yet another reason why you shouldn’t rule,” Chan tuts, carelessly wiping away your bloodied spit. He hooks a hand under your chin, pulling your face closer. He tuts again, mockingly. “You were always the snippier one of us two.”
“Get off me!” You wrench your face away from his grasp. The lingering feeling of his hand on your chin makes your skin crawl.
“As you wish.” He smirks. “But as such, I think I’ll stick with watching you die slowly. It’s what you deserve, isn’t it? A human weapon wouldn’t provide as much pain. And who knows?” His grin grows wider. “Maybe, come dawn, I’ll make swan soup and feed it to the dogs.”
Fury blinds your vision and you open your mouth to scream –
And then the door bursts open.
. . .
The shock that blinds Minho at the sight of your bloodied figure nearly kills him. Literally. Had Lia not pulled him away, the blast of light would have killed him.
“Come to join the party?” Chan asks, looking as unruffled and terrifying as ever. He glances at a clock in the corner. “You have seven minutes left to say goodbye to your precious queen.”
Enraged, Minho draws a dagger from his belt and sends it flying at Chan. He doesn’t even blink an eye – with a flick of his hand, the blade dissolves into the air in front of him.
“I knew there was one of you missing.” Chan casts a disdainful look at Lia. “No matter.” He fixes his gaze on Minho. “So you figured out my little illusion, didn’t you? You should’ve stayed with her. The real thing isn’t as pretty, is she?” He jerks his head at you.
Rage fills Minho’s vision and he nearly leaps at Chan. But your voice cuts in.
“Stop.”
All the attention turns back to you.
You spit blood out of your mouth. “Isn’t your fight with me, Chan?” A ghost of a smile plays on your lips. “Why don’t you release these bonds and have us a fair battle?”
Minho wants to scream for you to shut up.
“A good suggestion, dear Y/N.” Chan pretends to think, then shakes his head. “But I’d prefer to watch you break first.”
“No showing of skill? No proving you are fit to rule?” Your eyes flit to the clock and Minho looks too, against his will.
Two minutes.
Chan grins, but Minho can see the repressed anger in his eyes. “I already know I am fit to rule.”
“Then are you afraid that I will find my strength and kill you first?” You tsk. “Coward.”
“What you call cowardice is what I call a strategy.” The smile turns animalistic as Chan directs it at him. “Say goodbye to your lover, dear cousin.”
A flash of light burns out of Chan’s palm, directed straight at Minho’s chest.
. . .
Chan has never seen anyone move so quickly. Much less if they were bound by magic ropes.
His magic ropes. The ropes imbued with the strength of every creature he’s killed.
And you…
You broke them.
His eyes widen as he takes in your outstretched hands, free of bindings, creating a shield. A shield that glows with more power than he’s ever seen you conjure.
The light fizzles from his palm. And as your darkened, furious eyes lock with Chan’s, he feels an unfamiliar emotion. So unfamiliar that he’s almost forgotten its name.
As the clock behind him chimes the hour, Chan does not gloat. Chan does not laugh.
For the first time in years, Chan feels fear.
. . .
How did I do that?
You stare at your outstretched hands and the shield of light they’ve created. Ragged breaths leave your lips but to your surprise, you don’t feel tired. There is no exhaustion. If anything, you feel exhilarated.
The clock chimes. Midnight.
You lock eyes with your cousin. For once, he seems to have nothing to say.
“Anything to say, Chan?” you snarl. You kick one of the torn ropes at your feet and he flinches. “Anything at all?”
“… How?” he finally whispers.
For a moment, you find yourself wondering the same thing. How could you have done this? How did you break from Chan’s bonds? How did you manage to surpass his power?
Your uncle’s words echo through your mind.
“You have an ability that Chan does not. For this reason, you are more powerful than Chan will ever be. But you must unlock that power yourself.”
And suddenly, you understand. You understand how you moved so quickly that first day you protected Minho. You understand how you withstood Chan’s torture for so long while waiting for Lia. You understand the magic your uncle left in the gem that rests against your throat.
You understand the magic that led you to break Chan’s bonds and protect the people you love the most in the world.
“My uncle – your father – once told me I had an ability you do not. And because of that, he told me I had more power than you would ever have.” Your words are slow, calculated, but for once, there is no race against time. There are five hours until dawn – plenty of time before your final transformation.
And with a little luck, that transformation will never happen.
“That day, he gave me this necklace to protect me.” You grasp the gem around your neck. “He told me it had a magic in it as old as time, and that you would never be able to overcome it before my twenty-first birthday. So I suppose it no longer works.” Slowly, you unclasp the chain from your neck, clutching the gem in your hand. “But I don’t suppose I need it anymore.”
No one speaks.
“How, you ask?” You step forward, and for once, Chan steps back. “I’ve found my power. It is a power far older, far stronger than your dark arts. Would you like to hear about it?”
Chan swallows, attempting a look of defiance. You wish you could tell him how stupid it looks.
“It is a magic as vast as the stars,” you whisper. “It is a magic as old as time. It is the power to feel a heartbeat from across the room. It is the power to speak volumes without a sound, without a word.”
You step forward.
“It is the power to protect.”
Another step.
“It is the power to love.”
As you stare into his eyes, real fear flashes over Chan’s face. But you take no pleasure in it, only feel sorrow that your cousin will never be able to feel as deeply as you.
In a movement as smooth as water, you grasp Chan’s arm with a strength you never thought you had. Your other hand presses against his chest.
“I’m sorry, cousin.”
Your power drives deep into his heart.
. . . . .
Minho’s parents were unsure of the union at first, especially since they found you in the same sorry state that Chan’s torture left you. But Minho had refused to let you return to the forest and practically forced you and your maidens into the castle to help you clean up and heal. Upon your request, he brought Jisung, Jeongin, and Seungmin over as well. Once the tattered dress of feathers was gone, your cuts and scrapes cleaned, and Minho had informed them of your magic and your status as queen, his parents became more receptive.
You sit in the front row at Minho’s coronation, your former swan maidens at your side. Pride fills your heart as you watch the priest crown your love, hand him the royal sword and scepter, and repeat the oath his father took so many years prior.
That day, you don’t dance with him, as per the doctor’s orders. But Minho stays by your side throughout the ensuing ball, only leaving for several ceremonial dances that he pouts the whole way through. But, as you remind him, “there will be many more dances together after we marry.”
And marry you do. All of your forest friends come to the ceremony, watch you walk down the aisle in a white gown devoid of feathers to recite your vows to the king.
(Jisung, Felix, Jeongin, and the girls all openly cry into each other’s arms. Seungmin, Changbin, and Hyunjin refuse to admit their tears but everyone can see through them anyway.)
The kiss that day is like your first, minus the sadness. Your hands cup his face while his rest lightly against your waist. Minho’s lips press against yours with a gentle insistence that you eagerly give in to, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric of your dress.
The festivities last until midnight, when you’re finally allowed to retire to your room in the palace. Minho finds you on the balcony, staring down at the throngs of celebrating citizens.
Weeks ago, you were terrified of turning twenty-one. You were terrified of the inevitable change and the inevitable death sentence that age would bring.
Now, you think that turning twenty-one wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done in your life.
“What are you thinking of, my swan?” Minho presses a kiss against your neck.
You smile. “Just… I don’t know. Turning twenty-one seemed so terrifying a few weeks ago. Now...”
“Ah.” Minho nods. “You know, I dreaded that age too.”
“No kidding.” You raise an eyebrow.
“I was terrified of losing my freedom, of being forced to marry someone I didn’t love and being forced to stay with them for the rest of my life.” Minho squeezes your hand. “But you know, it doesn’t seem too bad now.”
A snort bursts from your lips. “That’s an understatement,” you laugh, turning back to the scene beyond the balcony. There’s a little silence.
“What are you thinking of now?” Minho whispers.
The smile on your face grows wider. “The day we first met.”
“Oh, yes.” Minho turns you around to face him again. “I think I knew then and there that I was going to fall in love with you, you know.”
Shyly, you look down. “I think I knew too.”
He tilts your chin back up and presses a light kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”
One hand reaches up to rub the gem resting at your throat. Your uncle’s necklace still sparkles around your neck as a reminder of the duties you still have in the forest, but also as a reminder of the immense power he always knew you had. The power of that single, simple word.
Love.
You smile, dropping the gem to rest your arms around Minho’s neck. He smiles down at you with passion in his eyes and happiness on his lips.
“I love you too.”
#inkidz#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#danceracha#minho#fluff#angst#violence#death#royalty!au#fantasy!au#stray kids minho scenarios#dawn#scriptura-delirus
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@tilthedayidice Trust me anon here! So about that totally not a hitman I ordered the other day:
“Wow, you trust us. We could have given you some magic beans, ten pounds of potting soil, expired bus passes, literally ANYTHING. But you trusted us and we respect that. Included in your package is a bunch of gear not available on our site; rosewood infinity dice, wooden hex vault, the original prototypes for our d6s, out of print stickers, a b grade celestine Chonki Boy d20, and some metal dice we are thinking about bringing to market.
Just to let you know, not all TRUST ME orders are the same. So if you see it upn again, the order could be completely different.
Enjoy!
David
Dice Envy, Owner”
The image quality on these aren’t great since my phone was acting up and is currently dead, but they’re all really nice!
The metal dice give off sort of steampunk vibes, with purple enamel and a copper trim with cog designs and red enamel for the numbers. I especially like the d4, which has a circle in the middle of each side where you can get a really good look at the enamel; it’s got sort of a shimmery look to it - I only subbed to Dice Envy late last year, but comparing it to the sets I’ve gotten, I’d describe it almost like a mix of the texture of Sugar Plum Fairy but with the consistency of color from Bloody Knuckles!
The vault has seven hexagonal slots inside to keep your dice in, and the lit and base both have three magnets, one on every other side, so it stays together quite well! The staining on the lid seems to be a bit lighter than the base, which gives a solid contrast between the two without it being overwhelming.
The celestine d20 being b grade seems to be primarily cosmetic from what I can tell - A few of the gold leaves seemed to clump together a bit near the 1 side, so there’s a few spots that have big bunches of gold rather than the little pieces shown in the pictures on the site, but it doesn’t appear to have any surface flaws or noticeable bubbling in the resin :0
Similarly to the standard set of the red sandalwood dice listed on their website, the rosewood infinity dice aren’t inked, though it looks like the numbers might have been given a darker stain than the outside as they have a fair deal of contrast no matter the lighting! Very nice emphasis on the grains of the wood in the numbers.
And of course, the out of print stickers and original prototypes are rad too! Don’t have much of anywhere to stick the former, but they and everything else will all definitely be getting a home on my shelf once I get it cleared off for my latest sets!
All in all a good investment imo, would trust again!
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I hate to be that person but I'm on mobile and the link didn't work. Sorry.
dhjlgfajfghd that’s fair, lemme copypaste it onto a post
General Info
Jun’s characterisation on this blog may be influenced by my own headcanons. You don’t have to agree with them and I won’t hold it against you if you don’t, but please, don’t be rude about it. I’m sure there’s a lot of other Jun blogs out there that more closely resemble what you’re looking for.
This blog is independent, multiverse/multiship and non-exclusive. Despite it being non-private, I may be selective in who I roleplay with.
I accept magic anons. The current m!a status is displayed in the sidebar.I use rpthreadtracker to track threads.I don’t have xkit.My timezone is CET and activity will most likely reflect that.
Please note that this is a side blog. If I follow, send asks, or like or comment on posts, it’ll have to be from my hub: viomuses.
An Important Note on Mental Health
I don’t follow a lot of people because I have really bad anxiety around following (ask me about this if you want to know more), so it’s unlikely that I’ll follow you unless we’re really close friends and/or regular writing partners. This is something I am actively working on, as I do want to be more involved in the community. As things are though, me not following back does not automatically mean I’m not interested.
When things get too overwhelming, I will password protect this blog. This is usually temporary, and I will return after a while. IM won’t work during that time.
What I’m willing to RP
I will write anything from angst to banter to humour to fluff, but be warned that some things come more naturally to this muse than others.
I will rp with:
YuGiOh characters - that includes other Juns, GX is preferred since I’m not as familiar with other generations
characters from other fandoms I know - Don’t be afraid to ask if I know a fandom or not. Just don’t be mad if I don’t.
characters from fandoms I don’t know - I live under a rock, so I might not know anything about your fandom and character. If you don’t mind that, the same things apply as for OCs.
OCs - Please have an about page that allows me to learn about the character. I’m picky about OCs.
I will roleplay nsfw themes, but I won’t write smut with you unless you’re over 18. Any nsfw content will be tagged as such.
I will not rp with genderbends due to personal reasons. There might be exceptions to that rule, so feel free to ask, but please don’t be upset if I refuse. Trans hcs do not fall under this category.
I will not write therapy plots unless I initiate them on my own terms.
What about Shipping?
Mun is filthy multishipping trash and will write almost anything.
That being said though, I don’t rp just to ship, and would like to take the time to properly develop our muses’ relationship instead of just rushing things for the sake of a ship. I don’t mind working with established relationships though, as long as we’ve talked about it first.
This blog doesn’t have Exclusives, but it does have Mains. They can be found here.
On the Subject of Triggers
I’ll do my best to tag common triggers and squicks when they occur, using the tags “insert-trigger-here tw”. Please tell me if I miss anything.
If you could tag any visual depictions of human teeth, as well as visual and written teeth-related body horror, I’d be very thankful. I’d also appreciate if you could tag the urls of people you thread with, and any group verses you’re a part of (if applicable).
If we’re writing partners it would be nice if you could do this even if I don’t follow you, since I tend to check the blogs of people I thread with manually.
And lastly, a few basic Guidelines
I would like to keep my thread count at a maximum of three per partner at any time. If a fourth thread is started I will keep the reply in my drafts until one of the ongoing three is either completed or dropped. Exceptions to this rule may occur.
I don’t expect you to match my length, and probably won’t be able to match yours either. My replies are often relatively short and to the point, and I find it hard to make them any other way. I will try if matching is important to you, but please forgive me if I can’t.
Please enable non-followers to contact you via IM if you want to rp with me. (Unless you’re following me and have things set up so I’ll be able to contact you. The point is that we should be able to communicate.)
If you want to interact with Jun from a specific timeline/verse, please specify which one. If nothing is specified, I’ll default to my main verse.Here is a list of my verses.
Tag me as ‘jundeccentmil’.Tagging me in random things is absolutely okay and makes me feel appreciated.
Reblog Karma is in effect! If you don’t want to send stuff in, it’s not that hard to reblog from the source.
Please do not steal the icons that are used on this blog, or the images used in this blog’s theme and pages. They are all cropped and edited either by me or for me so don’t use them for yourself.
This isn’t a hard and fast rule, but I’d prefer if you didn’t use the reply feature for interactions, as those are a hassle to respond to. Asks and reblogs are much easier to work with for me, especially in large quantities.
The memes and open starters on this blog don’t have an expiration date, so it’s perfectly fine to send an ask based on a meme I reblogged months ago, as long as you make it clear which meme your ask is for. Event-based memes and starters are an obvious exception.
If you don’t like my reply or think you can’t properly work with it, it’s totally fine to ask me to change it and I’ll do my best to fix/improve it for you.
Uni homework/personal problems/life in general is a thing, but I try to be as quick and regular with replies as I can. Feel free to gently poke me when you think I might have forgotten about something.
English isn’t my native language. Don’t hesitate to point out mistakes I make, but please be polite about it.
Basically, just don’t be a dick. Please.
More to be added if it becomes relevant.
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Question. How would you describe B's eyes
the answer to your question is ‘too much, in too much detail, and annoyingly angstily’ LOL
but i think youre referring to this post, right anon? :D
LOL what i meant when i wrote this was that ive read some fics (all super good!!) where B talks abt his eyes almost in passing, but the writer just never happens to delve into his thoughts abt it and how it’s affected his life and what he thinks and feels about them, if he resents them or is confused or, you know, so on and so on. and the fics are still good of course!! it’s just something i personally think abt a lot and find interesting.
so as for me, i play this UP in my fics and i think its super interesting to spend a lot of time thinking about how this must have affected him and his personality. i think he must have felt as though he was constantly surrounded by death and he couldn’t escape it and i think it would make him feel as though nothing really matters anyway since everyone and everything’s got an expiration date. i think that would contribute to his absolutely abysmal mental health and of course, to the bad choices he makes over and over again. i think it would have isolated him in a lot of ways and he’d always feel sort of alone no matter what, holding this huge terrible impossible secret abt himself and abt everyone around him. that’s not even to mention the fact that he never in his lifetime gets an answer for why he is the way he is and what the purpose of his eyes are. as far as he knows, he’s just been cursed senselessly with what seems like random but incredibly depressing and unfair information about everyone he ever meets. i think it’d cause him to call into question his own life and his humanity and the reality of the things around him bc if this magic, impossible thing is real, what else is, and does it make him not human or different?? i think telling people about it would be genuinely hard for him and living with it would cause him a lot of pain and i think that vulnerability is something that contributed in a big way to who he is as a person and i just like to read abt that!!
#death note#beyond birthday#mine#he obviously has to take responsibility for his actions but its worth noting that he was set up to fail in nearly every way possible from h#his eyes to his environment#i hope this answers your question!!#anonymous#a means to an end#ill put this in my b fic tag why the heck not
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*Chest: Toys. Smothered in dust.
*Drawers: Filled with trash. Dusty, too. Is this whole place abandoned or something? You take a broken red crayon just in case you need it, and a small notepad.
ACQUIRED CRAYON: * Red, snapped in half. ...Hey, wait, didn't they stop making these back in the 19th century? Well, that answers one question.
(Use crayon later for fight. Chara is drawing. Froggit approaches, Chara drops crayon, afraid the Froggit perceives it as a weapon, and asks for MERCY. Froggit nudges crayon back over – wants to see them draw. Chara draws until the crayon is rendered useless. YOU WON! I earned 0xp and 5 gold. Chara is noticably more calm after this encounter.)
*Bed: Nothing.
*Closets: Filled with kids clothes. Too small to wear at all, so I leave them.
*Drawer #2: Empty. A photo frame lays on top. It's broken, and scratched with claw marks.
* BEDROOM: CLEARED.
ANON: ACT: EXIT HALLWAY.
The house is noticably much cleaner.
*CHARA loots the living room. Finds nothing but gardening books and pillows/blankets.
*Kitchen is looted. *Where are my knives.
*Chara finds their weapons on top of the fridge. Their food and goodies earned have been placed in the fridge, untouched by Asgore (noticeably.) They load them into their inventory one by one.
INVENTORY:
1. Crayon + Notepad
2. Anon's Pie
3. Tea
4. Eyepatch
5. Tacos
6. I try to take the paper flake out of my inventory, but it won't work...?
7. Rectangle
EQUIPPED FLOWERCROWN (DF) and KNIFE (ATK.)
ATK: 2
DF: .1
(Flowercrown is destroyed later, but narrowly saves Chara's life. They are thankful for the flowercrown, and vow to return the gift to @defectedanddetermined somehow.)
*KITCHEN AND LIVING ROOM LOOTED.
ANON: Now that you've got your goods, let's leave. Asgore might come back.
CHARA LEAVES THE HOUSE.
Chara is bewildered by the save star, but saves again and is relieved to find their HP has increased to the max (humans are harder to heal with monster magic.) Chara hides their knife as to avoid confrontation unless needed. Chara goes down, and to the right to the FIRE BAKE SALE. Chara buys a fire cookie as a joke, but finds it really tasty. Flame's say it's for a good cause. Chara plans to snoop for more money around the ruins (NOT STEALING FROM ASGORE,) and then come back for more. The fire monsters are pleased. Cheerful, the fires give her a bonus cookie.
INVENTORY GET: Fire cookie. *You’d think it'd be spicy, but it's not.
Chara goes to the left and bumps into Happstablook.
Chara gives Happstablook their cookie, and probably makes a dumb fire pun. (Possibly Happsta not liking his ghost body? Chara thinks he means ghost weight or whatever, and jokes that the cookie can burn calories. Cookie is star shaped?) Happstablook begins to cry. Happstablook wanted to be a star, but couldn't bear to show their face to their cousin again and stayed in the ruins. Happstablook is inspired. Chara suggests a nice way to show how much of a star he is is to go donate money for the flames in need, and how it will increase their rep. Happsta gives Chara 50 G to give to the flames, and a kiss on the forehead. Chara is momentarily starstruck, but wins 50G and 0xp.
SIDE EFFECTS: POISON: LOVESTRUCK. * I wonder if they sell flowers down here... roses, right? He seems like a classy guy. Or, wait, maybe -
Chara goes back and gives all 50g to the flames. They are astounded, but inform the child they already got their bonus cookie and have to pay if they want another one. Chara is fine with that, their stomach is starting to burn. They go up from the fire room and see the toy knife – it's less effective than their knife, and made of plastic. Chara tosses it over the edge so no one else can use it.
Chara solves the button puzzles. Make this a montage. Chara is excited when they think it's going to be hard, but reads the 'push the red button' sign with dismay. They solve the rest of the puzzle clearly frusturated. 'At least it didn't waste my time.'
Chara explored blank looking room (pitfall.) Door is unlocked, but Chara assumes it’s a puzzle. Turns around to look, but falls. Finds ribbon. Places in inventory.
RIBBON: (whatever, how much df is it?) DF! If you’re cuter…
INVENTORY:
1. Crayon + Notepad
2. Anon's Pie
3. Tea
4. Eyepatch
5. Tacos
6. I try to take the paper flake out of my inventory, but it won't work...?
7. Rectangle
8. Ribbon
This thought makes Chara upset, shadowy-faced. Lightly activates rest of traps, finally finds lever. Pulls it, leaves. Unnerved by carrot monster, but tells it how to leave (from above) just in case it is stuck. Chara moves on once they confirm the monster is safe. Chara realizes after this that all the puzzles are unlocked/ unfinished, and they can continue without fail.
Whimsum attacks! Chara tries to smile, but scares the whimsum off. Chara lost no HP, but they did lose their self-esteem. Carries on, sadly.
Chara enters pillar room. Receives mercy speech. IS FILLED WITH DETERMINATION. Begins to sympathize with monsters, wonders if Asgore is really all that bad. Continues on regardless.
Rock puzzle, ta-dah! Chara is kind of wide-eyed at this event, and stutters out their requests. Pats the rock, awkwardly, at the end. The rock requests to not be patronized, and that it is far older than them. Chara apologizes to the ‘sir,’ and leaves with a blank expression. After they leave, they have a BSOD and realize they referred to a rock as an upperclassman. (Possibly begins to doubt if any of this is real?)
Does the stupid steppy-leaf puzzle. Chara is annoyed that they were lured into a false sense of security, that they believed ALL the puzzles were disabled, but is also excited to have a challenge. After this room, Chara nervously does the other rock puzzle, but finds it is inanimate. Confused, Chara heads on. Chara finishes these puzzles even if they might not be done because 1) they want a challenge and 2) the room looks nicer when it’s in order. Chara heads to the leaf room / candy room. Chara realizes they’re back where they began. Sighs, relaxes in leaves. Begins to draw to calm themselves down (anime, probably) Froggit attacks, and destroys flowercrown. Chara panics, and loses HP. Chara places the crayon and drawing down, and begs for MERCY. The froggit is wary, but is interested in the drawing. Carefully, rolls crayon back over. The froggit watches Chara draw for a short time. The froggit draws a small bit as well.
LOST ITEM: CRAYON + NOTEPAD. It’s been worn down to the nub, and the latter is completely covered in scribbles.
Chara takes one candy. They, however, equip the ribbon, as they have no defense, now. Chara’s stomach growls. They decide to eat the tacos, as it will rot first. Chara is informed monster food does not expire by a helpful, very-not-me anon. Knowing this, they put the taco aside and eat the pie. It’s yummy, and Chara’s not hungry anymore.
INVENTORY
1. Tea
2. Eyepatch
3. Tacos
4. Rectangle/Paper
5. Candy
6. Clothes
7. (empty; chara throws toy knife/stick away.)
Chara decides to go back to the flame monsters, because they speak English and seem to know all about the ruins. On the way, Chara bumps into Asgore. Asgore is scared if the child is hurt. Depending on if we insert random attacks in here, they will or will not be. Regardless, Asgore says he was scared for the child. Chara puts their hand in their pocket (knife,) and asks Asgore what he wants. Asgore is confused, and slightly wary. He mentions he didn’t get much time to explain the situation, and asks Chara to come inside. Chara threatens Asgore, but follows. They want their own clothes back. Asgore offers tea. Chara switches the cups – if it’s not drugged, Asgore will drink the other mug. Asgore seems nervous, and Chara thinks they’ve won. However, Asgore drinks the cup in whole. Smiling as he sets the cup down, he says that Chara is an odd child. Chara is quiet, and takes a sip of Asgore’s (now their) tea. It’s nice, and warm. Chara quiets, and Asgore begins to speak.
CHARA: …I still don’t know what you want.
ASGORE: It’s quite alright, child. I should have been more careful and explanatory… but, oh, I was so excited. Forgive me, it’s been a long while since any monsters have seen a human.
CHARA: What are you, exactly? takes careful sip of tea.
ASGORE: Oh! Well, we are monsters. Or, we have been dubbed as such. Truthfully, we are just… creatures. Once, we inhabited the surface of this world much like humanity. However, we were forced underground by humankind many, many years ago.
CHARA: ...We’re kind of in a similar situation, then.
ASGORE: …? How so?
CHARA: **Shakes head.** Can you escape?
ASGORE: …Well, yes, but it… will cost us a great sacrifice.
CHARA: …
ASGORE: sips tea
CHARA: sips tea
ASGORE: This also means, child… you will not be able to leave the underground.
CHARA: (* I’m not too upset about it.)
CHARA: Okay.
ASGORE: …You have a strong demeanor, young one. I admire you.
CHARA: CHARA IS SILENT. Thanks.
…
CHARA: I met some other monsters, out there.
ASGORE: Oh, I hope they were kind… Mad Dummy is merely an emotional specimen. He cares rather aggressively, is all… I spoke to him, regardless.
CHARA: It’s okay.
…
(This dialogue can be edited, remember it is made to be intentionally offputting and awkward.)
…
ASGORE: Well, little one, you must be tired. (Nervous, awkward demeanor.)
CHARA: Oh, yeah. I’m about ready to faint over here. (WHY DID I SAY THAT.) Ehehe. (STOP DOING THE ANIME LAUGH YOU TRASH BAG.)
ASGORE: Do you remember which room is yours?
CHARA: Yes, I do. Thank you. Goodnight, Mr. Dreemurr.
Chara quietly, somberly, walks to their room. On their way, they look at the room under renovations sign. Dramatically, Chara stares, then wanders to their room. Chara, depending on what’s more dramatic, cries themselves to sleep OR starts to cry, but stops themselves, forecfully smiles, and goes to bed.
PANEL ONE: Chara is comfortable in bed.
PANEL TWO: Chara’s face twists.
PANEL THREE: Chara covers their face with their hands, shaking / crying.
---
Chara wakes up, goes to living room, finds breakfast. Sick from hunger, give in and eats one bite. It’s delicious! Asgore remarks as Chara looks at the food, drooling, that he forgot their milk. Asgore comes back with a fresh glass to find Chara has eaten everything. Chara, embarrassed, apologizes. Asgore smiles, remembering how hungry and thin the child was, and offers them seconds. Chara reluctantly accepts, and eats slower this time.
Asgore shows, via montage, probably, Chara the bugs and books and all that Radical Stuff. Asgore accidentally brings up the outside world, once, and Chara is excited to meet new, non-human beings – they’ve learned by this point monsters are made of compassion and magic, and are thrilled to have survived the fall, because now they are free from humanity but they’ve found a world of magic and all that jazz.
Chara continues to bring the topic up, and Asgore excuses himself. Chara follows, curious. (At this point, a few days have passed, btw.)
Asgore is Very Good at ignoring things that make him uncomfortable, and continues silently. Chara asks what is going on, legitimately scared and nervous their ‘perfect world’ might not be. Asgore explains, and Chara visibly deflates.
FIGHT!
Asgore accidentally kill Chara, and they LOAD. Chara, brief and graceful as always, vomits into a plant pot. At this point, it is only mentioned Chara is suddenly filled with DETERMINATION after visibly having an epiphany. They realize that the reason they survived the fall was because they have to do something here – that’s why they can’t die. Chara gathers the food they can, and heads down to the basement. Chara, maybe after a fight / death montage, beats him finally. Note that Chara’s knife consistently stays in their back pocket, and remains unused.
Dramatic speech.
Chara explains their thought process, and why they think they survived a hundred feet drop. Asgore is wary, but hugs the child and gives them a kiss on the forehead, saying he is very proud of his child, and how they’ve grown in such little time. Chara hugs back, and refers to Asgore as ‘Dad’ and mentions they will be back soon. Asgore begins to weep, and Chara gets teary eyed. Chara hugs him one last time and heads out to the hallway.
Temmie teases Chara, mentioning how pathetic they are to die to someone so weak. Chara frowns. They don’t fear death, now. They can feel they still have work to do. Knowing this, Chara tells Temmie that they’re going to SAVE them, too. Temmie is stunned, but begins to laugh, and tells Chara their stupid kill or be killed line. They disappear. Chara, once he has left, asks Frisk if they have something do to with all this, and that they’ve been awfully quiet. Frisk nods, a little sober from the Asgore fight, and Chara feels the amounts of pride and hope Frisk is filled with, directed at them. Chara smiles, and takes Frisk’s hand. They walk forward. Scene fades to white.
ASKSWAPCHARA: RUINS (CH1): END.
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I’ve changed my page info/description to reflect what N+C fandom projects I’m currently working on. Further details are below the cut.
But first... reminder that any of you are more than welcome to message me anytime! I joined this site in large part for the community, so if you want to talk N+C I’d be more than happy to get to know you. You don’t need to have the same fav characters/pairings as me to talk to me (I’m entertained with how many friends I’ve made here who initially didn’t think I would talk to them because of their preferred pairings). As far as I’m concerned, diversity is the spice of life. <3
Now, on to projects...
- I successfully figured out how to make language patches for the N+C games! Yay! I’m working on Osu Boys (one of the N+C April Fools joke games) as a proof of concept. It’ll be finished shortly.
- I’d already started on TnC Poker as my original “learn to patch” game before @seragaki-yuki wisely suggested Osu Boys as a better starting project. There is actually a TON of dialog/text in TnC poker, believe it or not, so I’m picking away at it slowly between other projects.
- I definitely plan on making a patch for Rhythm Carnival as soon as I get a copy. Most of the text is actually what I’ve already translated for the 10th Anniversary video, so it shouldn’t take too long to do once I get started on it.
- I plan on making patches for TnC Typing and True Blood once the others are finished. I have hard copies of both already. I’m *hoping* to recruit some help on the translation front prior to attempting these games, though, since I feel like it’s a bigger deal if I screw things up. FYI, the actual typing portion of TnC Typing will still be in Japanese (both kana and romanji), because that’s just how the game is set up. It’s supposed to help you learn to type in Japanese - you don’t need to be able to understand it, just copy the letters on the screen.
- Regarding the DMMd games, I don’t want to attempt to patch Re:Code before a better translation patch for DMMd/Re:Connect is made, otherwise all of the same mistakes will just be repeated over again. I was pretty late to the N+C fandom, but I have definitely picked up on how unhappy many fans seem to be with the original translation (which frankly scares me a bit, since my own translation skills are far from perfect). I’ve sort of put out antennae to find some of the other fans who have done work on re-translating DMMd. Since I’m already working on so many other things, I won’t aggressively pursue them right now, but if other fans want these games translated/re-translated badly enough to be willing to do some actual work on them, I’m definitely willing to help out in whatever ways I can to make sure that it happens. (Justice for Mink!)
- Regarding the other N+C mini games like Nyanda, Lamento Typing, and Chiral Mori... I don’t personally have any plans to work on them, but that might change if someone else was really inspired to translate these guys, wanted to pick them up as their own projects, and just needed an editor to turn them into an actual patch that people could use and play with.
- I seriously need to finish my own gift project for the N+C Exchange, so progress on the translation front will be a little slow for the next couple of weeks until the release date on August 31st. But I’ll pick right back up after that.
- I’m actually RPing now! That’s been a lot of fun. I RP Nano (TnC), but I have a merged DMMd/TnC universe if any DMMd RPers want to play with me (or just want to talk merged-universe conspiracy theories). Even if you don’t RP, you can always send me asks, anon or otherwise. I’m not too picky - I’m just happy to have an excuse to write.
- I really want to find more time to work on my original fanfic... I’m a much better writer than translator (I hope!). If I’m procrastinating on my other projects, there’s a good chance that it’s because I’m writing and don’t want to stop. Unsurprisingly the vast majority of original content that I write centers around Nano. Fair warning, I went really dark with some of it, even for N+C. I’ve also written a few DMMd fics, but... lately I just want to focus on Nano right now, because I find him to be a very inspirational muse.
- Our discord server is alive and very active, both on the project and social front. Lately we’ve been playing a N+C Cards Against Humanity game with a custom deck created by @kisamaa more-or-less in-character. It’s such a weird and fun cast. Depending on who’s on (since we’re all around the world) we’ve got: Nano, Shiki, Arbitro, Alpha, Akushima, Usui, Sly Blue, and Leaks. Shenanigans are inevitable. We’re starting up some new games, too. Send any of us a message if you want a link. (I’d just post the link here, but apparently the links expire and I’ve had a couple of people complain about it, so it’s easier to send them to folks directly.)
- I’m working on scanlations for several different doujinshi, it’s just been a little slower than usual on account of everything else I’m doing. I’m still focusing on Alpha and Nano doujinshi, with some Clear stuff thrown in for good measure. The next one that will be released is Experiment Time! which has a good combo of both sexiness (Alphas testing out their sexual functions in many different ways) and angsty existential robot problems. Once I get the three big doujins that are half-finished completed, I am going to start on Hiki’s three volume series “The Last Days.” It’s a very angsty BE!Clear/Aoba series designed to tear your heart out. Hiki is my fav CleAo artist, both because of her impressive artistic talent and her storytelling expertise. (And here I swore I’d never do BE!Clear... ah well, so much for that...)
- If you haven’t already heard, there is a really awesome and active new DMMd scanlation group that has recently formed and focuses primarily on NoiAo doujinshi (but are working on doujins for several other pairings as well). They’re looking for more translators, editors, and proofreaders, so contact @desamparo7, @seragaki-yuki, and/or @a-little-harmed-shinra if you want to help out with their projects.
- I’m still scanning/digitizing doujinshi for multiple people/groups. My make-shift “scanner” which I posted a tutorial for earlier still works better than any professional scanner I’ve tried. I should probably update my tutorial on post-processing, though - I’ve since gotten it down much faster with noticeably better results since I originally posted. (Speaking of which, if I’ve promised you something and haven’t given it to you yet, please remind me. It isn’t an intentional slight - there’s just a lot to keep track of sometimes and I get scatterbrained.)
- I’ve scanned all three of the 10 Years Archive books. I’ll get back to posting artwork from them shortly as I get them edited... I’ve been spending so much time on my Nano blog lately that I forgot my queue ran out on this one. XD I will post the full-spread 2-page images later in their entirety, because it takes some creative photoshop skills to get them to match up exactly and I just don’t have the time to do that right now. (But I will do it!)
- Random, but I’m so ridiculously excited to get a hold of that TnC benefits poster that came with the C92 Comiket Rhythm Carnival. Nano in a sparkly rainbow butterfly costume... seriously WTF? (It’s especially funny to me because I used to cosplay/RP Caterpillar many years ago when I still went to Nocturnal Wonderland... and I was just talking about how he reminds me of Nano. Apparently N+C thought so, too! Now I have this weird mental image of Nano sitting on a mushroom smoking hookah... and I’m not sure it’s any sillier than Nano in a sparkly butterfly costume holding a magic wand.)
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