#fawy

When I return to Seb’s, Robin’s at the counter, unlike earlier. Looks like she’s doing some sorta till-counting or something, given how she’s hunched near the open register and vigorously scribbling into a notepad. 

She’s in her costume while she does it. Considering it’s a crappy, plasticky getup from a chain store, she makes a hot Morticia Addams, god damn Robin!

“Getting some last minute work in?” I ask, taking my usual stance with my elbows upon the opposite side of the wood.

“Something like that,” she murmurs. Sounds stressed.

“Well… you look great, at least!”

She huffs out a bitter laugh, then says under her breath, “Oh yeah? Tell that to my husband.” 

Oooh, is that why she’s moody? I’ll kick his ass! I’ll fuck him up!

…No I won’t. 

But still, what the fuck?

A little taken aback, and unsure if it’s my place to say anything bad about that dipshit to her, I opt to offer support. “Whoa, everything okay?”

She still hasn’t met my eyes, but she does roll hers. “That di—“ She stops herself. “He—“ She takes a deep breath, her lids shutting. Looks like she’s trying to regroup.

“…You can totally call him a dick, if that’s what you were gonna do,” I offer, resting my chin on my knuckles.

Robin laughs a little more genuinely this time. “Eh. Feels weird to complain to my son’s girlfriend about my marital issues.” She looks up at me, her eyes a little glazed over, before they widen. She blinks and raises her brows, taken aback by my appearance. “Oh. Oh wow!” Then, she leans in and whispers, “You did this with magic?!”

Beaming, I nod. 

“That’s amazing! You’re kind of like one of those characters from those games Sebby plays.”

“I had to get inspiration somewhere,” I quip with some finger guns. 

“Dork.”

“You love me though.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she reluctantly agrees, scruffing my hair. 

I scowl, and then as I fix it, I jump back to the previous topic. “You know, you can talk to me about anything. If you want.” This time I rest the heel of my palm against my chin. “As a friend, not just as your son’s girlfriend, or a customer, or whatever.”

After inspecting me for a moment, Robin smiles. “I’m glad Sebastian fell in love with such a sweetheart, y’know that?”

I’m cheesing hard, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, but I feign anger anyway. “What’d I just say? I’m your friend right now! Forget that guy!”

She barks out a laugh and throws her palms up in defeat. She fixes some hair from her wig out of her face as she goes on, zoned out on the desk between us, “I’m… ugh.” Another sigh. “Demetrius is just upset that I don’t want him locked in that lab tonight. God forbid he spends some time with his family during a holiday.” 

She pauses, looks at me again, and her eyes are threatening to tear up. I can’t help the way my own mouth melts downward as she quickly darts her view away from me.

“He couldn’t care less about our costumes.” 

The woman sniffs and tries to hide her face. I scurry around to the other side of the counter — she looks like she could use a hug. When I silently open my arms she laughs wetly and accepts. 

Over my shoulder, she murmurs, “I just thought it could be fun to match, ya know? To act like a happy married couple, for a change. It’s like he doesn’t even want to be around me outside of our Friday saloon dates though.”

I’m not really sure what to say. My heart is telling me to shout “Dump his ass!!!” but I know that would be inappropriate.

I wind up trying to lighten the situation in lieu of consolation. “Y’wanna know what I think?” I ask, pulling away and clapping my hands over her shoulders.

“Please, share your wisdom, wise wizard.”

I giggle at that. Then, still smiling, “He’s a real dickhead.”

“(Y/n)!” Robin exclaims, albeit through her own giggles. She weakly swats at me.

“He is! The more I hear about him, the more I think he deserves a nice ol’,” and I pull back some more, punching at the air, with my cheeks puffed and brows slanted downward. 

Still laughing, she leans on the surface next to her. “Simmer down, Rocky,” she tells me, resting her temple on her palm.

I join her in leaning on the counter again. “Okay, in all seriousness, though... You deserve to be happy. Whether he wants to play along for the night or not.” After a quiet beat, I add “…What if I’m Gomez?”

Robin shoots me an amused, incredulous look. “What?”

“If Demetrius won’t be your Gomez then I will!” I declare with a nod. “Just bring the mustache with you later, if he won’t wear it. I’ll gladly slap it on.”

She shakes her head. The way her grin hasn’t left her face makes me smile right back. 

God. Seb really does have her smile. It warms my heart a ton to see it from the source.

“C’mere, you little weirdo.” 

Robin pulls me back into another hug. Still feeling silly, I tell her that I’m serious. I am, I’ll do it! She promptly and playfully pushes me off her. 

“Alright, get outta here.”

“Think about it!” I advise, tapping my head as I walk away.

“Oh my god.”

Well.

There we go!

I think I helped..?

I hope I helped. 

Robin’s usually so strong, and independent, and full of sass and kindness and goofiness all in one package. It’s hard seeing someone I look up to so much so… broken. Especially over some dumb asshole like Demetrius.

I softly rap on Seb’s door, then enter without an answer, assuming he’s still asleep. And he is — there are soft snores coming from a mound of blankets on his bed.

I pad over to him and sit down, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

I get real close and whisper, “Time to get up, baby,” near his ear. 

He shifts a little and sighs. His eyes open. They stay squinty as he blinks the sleep away. 

Oh. That was easy. “I thought there would be more protest than this.”

Seb sniffs and stretches, rolling his neck a bit. It pops, and he follows with rolling his shoulders too, which also pop. 

“The way y’whispered at me was so hot,” he explains. I ignore the flip my stomach does hearing him say that with his groggy rasp. “Got me right up.”

Is he bonin’ out already? “Figuratively or..?”

He turns to face me finally, a shitty little grin pairing an eyebrow waggle. It quickly morphs into a gleaming smile though, his eyes darkening above it as he takes in my disguise for the day. “Oh you’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

I chew the bottom half of my smile as my face warms right up. “Still a fan?”

He scoffs, “‘Still a fan,’” mirroring my words back at me while he tugs me into his lap. I squeak, not expecting this energy from Seb right now, but he quickly muffles it with a heated kiss. 

His fingers dig into my hips before he brings his hands up to cup my face. “Of course I’m still a fan,” he breathes between kisses, “you have no idea.”

I grin into his lips, pulling away just enough to murmur, “I think I have a little bit of an idea.” As I speak, I roll my hips, effectively trailing my clothed slit against his erection. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans, flipping us so that he’s on top of me, slotted between my legs. 

One of his hands is grounded on the pillow by my head; the other is plastered to my cheek as if it’ll fall off otherwise. In the meantime, I wrap my legs around his waist, heady exhales escaping through my nose as he grinds himself against me. I try to match his energy, tangling my fingers through his hair while I tug his face closer to mine. 

“What time was it when you got down here?” 

“Dunno, I—“ he lightly thrusts again, cutting me off as I curse against his lips, “Fuck.” I grin into a kiss and then continue, doing my best to ignore his active lower half, “Last I checked,” another kiss, “it was 7ish,” another, “Probably got here like 15 minutes ago.” Another kiss, and another roll, prompting us to moan against each other. “Maybe 20,” I breathe. 

“Damn it.” Seb presses his forehead to mine, his eyes shut. “How about this?” he states more than asks.

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Mhm,” I have to hum, because he paused to kiss me again.

“Then I’ll get ready, y’know, do my hair and all that.”

Kiss. 

“‘Kay.”

Kiss.

“And then,” he pauses for another kiss while his fingertips drag to the side of my neck. His thumb trails my jaw and finds residence on my chin, its tip touching the underside of my bottom lip, in the meantime. “I’m gonna make you cum all over my cock,” kiss, “alright?”

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

I nod. 

Kiss.

“Sound good?”

“Yeah,” I practically moan.

 Kiss.

“Yeah? You’d like that?”

I nod, kissing his smug grin. 

He reciprocates the action, and then tugs my chin down to give himself entry. I whine at the gesture while his tongue twirls around my own. 

…And then he pulls away, gives me an all too friendly smile and pat on the cheek, and gets up, sauntering to the bathroom.

I can’t help but laugh. 

_______________

Seb did his hair straight out of the shower — it’s no different than usual — but came out for help with makeup. 

“Honestly, I thought you were half-sleeping when I suggested this,” I mutter while giving him the best smokey eye I can manage with red and black. 

It’s hard working with eyes that aren’t my own. Also hard not to overdo it. Something about eyeshadow just makes me wanna keep coloring everything in…

“I was,” he confirms. “Only half, though.” 

From my seat atop him, I lean over to put the eyeshadow down and grab his liner stick. It’s hard not to feel a little restless in this position. Dude’s in nothing but boxer briefs. Didn’t want to risk smudging anything onto his white shirt, and didn’t feel like getting into dress pants just yet. Every little movement is like a taste of what’s to come after this, if he’s still up for it. 

Yoba, I hope he’s up for it.

Instrument in hand, I tilt his head gently by the chin for a better view. He closes his eyes before I have to ask, so I move my non-dominant hand to his cheek and get to work carefully lining a lid. 

“Didn’t you say when we first met that you used to wear eyeliner?”

He grins, and I have to pause so as to not smudge anything too badly. When he feels that I stopped, he opens his eyes. Those deep blueish irises have an extra sparkle to them. His cheeks heat up a little too, and I can see hints of a blush growing on them. 

“Yeah, I’m a bit rusty— wait, you actually remember that?”

I pull a face. “‘Course I do,” I respond, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You made that night fun… made me feel safe and welcome after having to endure that thorough grilling from Abby.” I blush as I tack on, at the risk of being a sap, “It’s a really special memory for me.”

Barely containing his pearly whites, he goes on, “She went in on you.”

He shuts his eyes for me again after seeing that I’ve returned my focus to his makeup. I begin working on the other one, satisfied with my work on the first after a quick swipe just beneath his waterline. 

“I’d probably have cried if it weren’t for all the beer.”

“Imagine,” he huffs out a laugh. “All the moms probably wouldn’t shut up about you.”

I toss Seb’s pencil aside and get to work smudging it with my fingertip a bit. Looks too neat. “Y’hear about that new girl?” I jest in something akin to Jodi’s cadence. “Sensitive thing, she is. She won’t last a day on that farm.” I pull back a bit and take Seb’s face in my hands, inspecting my work on his eyes while we laugh. 

“Oh, and don’t even get me started on that little skirt she was wearing,” he plays along. 

“Ha!” I break. “That skirt isn’t that little.” 

“It’s little enough that it had me thinking.”

“Thinking?” I tilt my head.

He winks. “Thinking.” 

Oh! My heart flutters because of course it does. I nuzzle my forehead against his and squeeze my eyes shut to stim away the fluster; he giggles, and then, simmering down, I ask, “You want some mascara?”

“Maybe a bit on the bottom row.”

“Oh, you’re gonna look downright slutty.”

“I’m not hearing a problem with that.”

“Neither am I,” I quip, being careful not to make them too tidy. Gotta make sure to clump some lashes up more than others too…

That should do it.

I lean back to scan his face again. “Lipstick?”

“Maybe some black on the top lip? And some red… somewhere near my mouth, I dunno. Fake blood and all that.”

I nod, but lean in for a kiss instead of doing it. He happily reciprocates. “Not yet,” I purr against him. “You have a promise to fulfill.”

He grins, wide and catlike, and hungrily chases my lips. “Don’t wanna sloppy it up?”

“And let my hard work go to waste?” I tease. My voice comes out airy, and my breath quickens as he pulls my chest to his.

“But maybe I like it sloppy.”

Ignoring the implications, I subtly roast, “Bold words for someone who didn’t wanna dirty his shirt.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughs before smashing his mouth to mine again. Pulls away, gnaws his lower lip... “I have an idea, actually.”

“Hm?”

He picks up some red lipstick and hands it to me. I tilt my head in question. 

“Slap it on me.”

I snort. “Where are you going with this?” I ask while I follow his instruction. 

As soon as I’m done, he pulls me in for more kisses. Sloppy kisses. The kind that can make me moan, whether it’s from being flustered, or from the kisses themselves — and they do. 

Seb smiles against me before kissing me some more. Then, he pulls away. He laughs at the resulting makeup on my face. 

“Oh, you look adorable.”

“How bad is it?” I ask, bringing a finger to my mouth. 

When I pull the digit away it has a red tinge to it; hard to gauge how dark it would actually look on my face until I see it, with my skin being pink in my disguise, and this room so dim.

“You tell me,” he asks, more about himself. He does a quick mouth wiggle while puckering. 

“You’re looking pretty wrecked.”

“Pretty bloody?” 

“Ooo, nice!” I beam.

“Can never tell me I’m not clever again.”

Laughing, I flick his nose. He reaches for a bite on my finger and I let him have it. “Never said you weren’t.”

“Damn right.” He pulls me back in, kissing me with a fervor I haven’t felt from him in a hot minute.

I wonder if it’s my… elfliness (sure, that’s a word). It’s gotta be that.

I’m not complaining.

With our lips locked, he begins lifting off my shirt, and I work on my pants in turn. There’s a few rows of buttons on ‘em but I get through it eventually. 

Once my mouth is free, I think aloud, “I wonder what color my nips are, if my skin is already pink.” 

I pause my work on my pants while he unclasps my bra. “Only one way to find out.” As it falls, we both laugh. “Fucking purple?”

“Hey, I think it works!” I lift my breast for closer inspection. It’s funny seeing a mauvy lavender there, as opposed to its usual color. It compliments my skin nicely though!

Next thing I know, I’m swallowing a hum as a result of Seb latching onto the same boob I’d been holding. He grabs my nipple between his teeth and lightly pulls away, making me whine. “It does work,” he agrees. Then, he delves into the other.

After a brief moment, he removes himself. “Pants off.”

I mumble, “Bossy...”

I stand up and do it anyway, though. I get rid of my panties too while I’m at it. Not like I’ll need them for this. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t love being bossed around, y’little gremlin.”

He flips me around and pulls me back into his lap, but facing away from him now; nudges my legs open with his knees; and then, while planting wet kisses to my neck and shoulder, he drags a finger through my folds in a long, languid stroke. I don’t even have time to argue back. 

I moan, rolling my head rest on Sebby’s shoulder behind me. Drinking in the feeling of his warm lips and breath on my skin, I arch instinctively while he creeps closer to my entrance. The hand that had been holding my hip wraps around my midsection in response, keeping me from moving too much, but not stopping me either.

“Jeez. So wet already,” he lilts. 

“Yeah, well…” I trail off, not in the mindset to say anything clever back. I’m too foggy with want for that.

Seb seems to be having fun taking his damn time with me. He circles the opening, not quite giving me the satisfaction of entry, but still making me feel something. I squirm, antsy as he devolves me into a needy (well— need ier ), panting mess. 

“Something wrong, love?” he mutters against my ear before lightly nipping at its pointy tip.

Smartass.

“N-no, nothing,” I lie. 

“Good,” he teases, “almost thought you were dissatisfied for a sec there.”

Damnit. I mean, I’m not, fucking obviously, but if he’d just go in…

I sigh, but it comes out as a huff, and turns into a whimper. My dominant arm has been raised, its hand toying with Sebastian’s hair this whole time. The other, which had been gripping the arm Seb’s holding me in place with, is now on its way to his active hand, in an attempt to urge him inside me.

As soon as my hand makes contact with his wrist, he retracts his fingers to the lower portion of my folds again. 

He warns lowly, “Keep that hand to yourself.”

Oh he has no business being this hot, god damnit dude.

I heed his words with an embarrassing squeak, draping my arm across my tummy, just below his. His grip with that one tightens as he gets back to work drawing circles and stars around the rim of my cunt.

“Ahh— fuck,” I whimper, my hips moving on their own volition, “please.”

He softly asks, his lips against my earlobe, “What do you want?”

“Please,” I pause to moan as he barely — just barely — dips inside me, planting a kiss to my cheek just in front of my ear. “Need you.”

“You already have me, silly. Gotta be more specific than that.” 

He peppers kisses around my neck while I struggle to find words to respond with. Just when I feel his tongue licking a strip across it, his thumb rests itself on my clit, unmoving.

My thighs tense and I squeeze the forearm that’s above my own, subconsciously tugging his hair a little too. “God.”

“Tell me,” he kisses my neck again, “tell me what you want from me, (y/n).” 

“Fuck, I want you.” I urge, “I need you inside me, please— oh shit,” my body twitches as he slightly begins to wriggle his thumb. He’s still not fingerbanging me yet, the audacity, but this still feels fucking good. “God, please, Seb.”

“Still need more details.” Oh my fucking— he’s trying to kill me. He wants me dead. “What part of me do you want inside you?”

Anything, frankly. “Y-your fingers,” I stutter instead, shuddering as he presses my bud a little harder. 

“Yeah?”

I mewl, “Yeah.” He grants my wish, but not enough. Slides his ring and middle fingers maybe an inch in, at most. I could fucking cry. “Ff— god damnit.”

“I thought you wanted this?”

I’ll fucking kill you bro— “Deeper,” I breathe, ignoring how desperate I sound; how tantalizingly he’s wiggling his digits. 

“This better?” he asks smoothly, and begins to pump the full length of his fingers in and out of me.

My head lolls back and tears fall from my eyes in relief. He moves absurdly slow as he begins to curl the pads of his fingers against me, but it’s better than everything else he’s done to cause me to crumble like this. “Fuck, yes~”

He removes his arm from my belly and turns my head to him. Without moving my lower body, I twist so that I can comply better, resting a palm beside us on the mattress. My other reaches for his face while I try to kiss him — and he gets close, but ultimately doesn’t budge. 

I chase his lips, humming through the pleasure, then groaning when he doesn’t work with me. He smiles knowingly. 

I deadpan, “Oh my fucking god.” Or, at least I do to the best of my ability while he’s got knuckles buried in me.

“You want more?”

“Please,” I nod. My forehead is against his as I shut my eyes, subtly shifting myself down so that he’ll go deeper. He responds in kind, pumping and curling against the perfect spot. “Ah!”

“Better?” 

I nod again. Try for another kiss. He doesn’t let me again. Ugh. “Please, please,” I whisper. Comes out embarrassingly needy. 

As if all my other pleas haven’t been.

“What else do you want?”

My eyes don’t leave his lips. They look destroyed, between the natural plumpness of us having kissed so much, and the lipstick that’s smeared around them.

It’s so hot.

“Kiss me, please kiss me.”

He leans in… and pecks the corner of my mouth. 

I grunt between my teeth. “Please just fucking kiss me, oh my g—“ Smiling, Sebastian shuts me up with an actual kiss.

He pokes fun at me after, “So easy…” 

“Shut up— fuck, more.”

“Like this?” he asks, speeding up his digits’ pace as he kisses me again, our tongues tangling together while he swallows my moans. 

I nod, but then I realize we’re running out of time. As good as this is — and holy fucking moly it’s amazing, I actually adore when he’s a devious little shit like this — I need him to just screw me senseless so I can recouperate before having to go face the entire town and whoever else shows up. 

I gasp out of the kiss, “Fuck me.”

“Aw,” he tuts, “this isn’t good enough?”

“Sh— ah, shut up!” 

He laughs. “You want me to stop this then?” 

Well… No…

But I nod. 

“Please, fuck, I wanna cum with you, not like this.” 

God, I sound pathetic. But this is urgent. I’m getting so close. 

His smile widens. I finally meet his eyes, after having stared at the lower half of his face for so long. His pupils are blown wide — practically to the rims of his irises. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” I can feel myself tightening. I’m doing my best to stave it off, but… “Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing this.”

“You think you can cum twice for me then?” 

“Shit.” Don’t have to twist my arm. “‘Kay.”

“Yeah? You want that?”

I nod eagerly. Desperately.

He gets close enough that our lips are pressing together a bit, but he doesn’t kiss me. “Then cum.” Oh my god. “Cum on my fingers, baby,” fucking hell, “let me feel your tight pussy cumming onto my hand.”

Oh my fucking god.

A soundless cry escapes me and I nod, promptly delivering. “Seb, shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,“ I desperately babble, my release hitting me like a train. I close my eyes and lean onto his shoulder, initially clamping a hand over my mouth to quiet myself. Seb maneuvers me into a kiss instead.

When he’s finished me off, Seb removes his fingers from my cunt and brings the afflicted hand close to our jaws. He backs away from our kiss with just enough space to slide his wet digits between our faces; to hold them just in front of my mouth, waiting patiently but expectantly.

Beguiled beyond belief, I don’t let my gaze waver from his as I wrap my lips around his fingers. I suck myself off of him, teasing him with my tongue as I do, and then seal the action with another kiss, all but leading in with my tongue. 

He groans at the taste. It’s all he needed to give up any bit of restraint he had before.

“Fuck. Grab onto me,” he softly orders. 

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he flips me onto my back, sliding his underwear off in tandem. He promptly dips just his head inside me, and proceeds to use a combination of my folds and his fingers to spread my fluids onto himself, getting his dick lubed up.

I shiver at the sensation, but only for a few seconds before he inches his length inside me. 

“Oh, shit.” We literally moan the words in unison. Makes us both break from our trances. 

“Oh no.“

“I dunno how I felt about that.”

“Hated it, personally.” I admit, though, “…But also it was kinda hot?”

Gnawing his lower lip, Seb nods in agreement. 

We’re both still giggling about the occurrence when he resumes the activity, harshly thrusting into me. Morphing my laughter into a happy lil’ moan. 

“Fuck, you always feel so good.” Seb lowers himself a bit, dropping my legs in favor of holding my face in one hand and gripping the sheets in the other. “So fucking perfect.”

I feel my belly do a flip at his words while I drink in his praise, committing to memory the way he’s looking at me as if I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. I reach my hands to the sides of his neck and tug lightly in hopes he’ll come down for a kiss. Instead, he settles above me, hovering his lips right in front of mine. 

I see that’s his theme for today. Jackass…

I moan into his mouth while he pants into mine. Our gazes haven’t faltered from each other’s; the eye contact is making me feel shy, but I can’t look away.

“Fuck,” I mewl after a harsher thrust, “do that again?”

“This?” Seb repeats the action, and I nod, feeling my eyelids flutter. I don’t dare to shut them though. “You like that?”

“I love it,” I nod, “I love you,” I pause to swallow a cry, worried about the volume, before repeating, “I love you so much, you’re so fucking good.”

“Me, or my dick?” he pokes back. His face looks extra cocky, too.

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Both, fuck I love your cock.”

“Oh, holy fuck,” he half-moans, half-laughs. Not the first time I’ve said that, glad it still affects him. He rolls his eyes shut and presses his forehead to mine. “How much, princess?” he asks as he opens them again, his fiery stare boring into mine.

The nickname surges through me, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. “So much, you’re—“

I promptly zip it and slap a palm over my mouth as someone knocks on the door. Sebastian puts one of his over the back of my hand for good measure. 

Shit. 

“Sebby?” Robin’s voice calls through. “We’re just about ready to go.”

Shit!

He hasn’t stopped thrusting. Just slowed down. I grip his wrist with my free hand and squeeze — a safety measure to make sure I really won’t make noise and fuck this up for everyone, because Yoba above it’s hard not to.

Hopefully she hasn’t heard it up to this point… “We’ll be ready in a few minutes,” he says back, “Just finishing up my costume.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Need any help?”

“No,” he answers all too quickly. He recoups, “No, it’s fine, (y/n)’s got me covered. We’ll meet you guys outside.”

“Alrighty, try to hurry up. We’re already running a little late.”

He answers while simultaneously placing a sneaky finger to my clit, “You got it, Ma.”

Oh my god. I shut my eyes and try to breathe steady, listening to her footsteps fade away. It’s hard to be this quiet with this much stimulation.

Seb’s vision is still angled towards the door while he waits too. When it returns to me — when he sees my eyes, specifically, and how filled with want they probably look — he whispers out a half curse, stopping himself so he can keep listening.

As soon as we hear the front door upstairs shut, he removes both our hands from my mouth and kisses me. 

“You close?” he whispers.

I shrug. “Might need some encouragement.”

“Yeah? You need me to tell you when to cum?”

Oh, that’s definitely encouraging. God he’s so hot.

“Mhm,” I hum. “Just tell me what to do.”

He smiles. It almost looks a bit sinister… damn, and he called me a freak. Seb straightens his back, tugging me closer by the thighs before pumping into me with more force. “Let me see you touch yourself.”

Oh.

I release one of my fists from its recent death grip on his sheets and place two fingers against my folds, trying to strum to the rhythm of his hips. 

“There you go,” he praises, leaning down with a straight arm supporting himself. The other cups my cheek, its thumb playing with my lips. “Help me out,” he murmurs, “get yourself real close for me.” I whine at his words, and my pussy clenches around him. He laughs, but it isn’t smug or demeaning. Just smitten. “That’s it, baby. Juuust like that.”

Fuck, this is working out flawlessly. 

“I’m close,” I tell him, my voice barely even there, “m’gonna cum.”

“Atta girl.” I feel him twitch inside me. “Fuck. You wanna cum together, yeah?”

I nod, subtly speeding up my fingers. 

“Come on then, (y/n), cum with me. Keep those pretty eyes on me and cum.” 

Seb’s kind enough to give me a bit of a head start. Just as I start to crumble, I feel him joining me, nearly pressing his forehead against my own. His eyes roll shut for a moment before locking back onto mine below thick, upturned eyebrows. 

“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he smiles through his own pleasure.  

“Holy fuck,” I breathe, shakey and winded.

He soothes me through to the end, “That’s it, baby, nice and easy.” 

I swear to god he’s so good at that; at just flipping a switch, and suddenly knowing exactly what to say and do. That alone should be its own weird subgenre of wizardry. 

I shut my weary eyes, and for a few beats we just stay where we are, huffing each other’s air. When I open my eyes, I notice a hint of determination in Seb’s.

Right.

I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though. 

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay. 

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down. 

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?” 

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground… 

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit. 

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing. 

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?” 

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.” 

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady. 

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty. 

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world. 

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest. 

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed. 

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!” 

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.” 

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!” 

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps. 

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.” 

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly. 

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid? 

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.” 

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy. 

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

Upon arriving home, I discover that Cannoli is not fond of pink elven strangers that look like his human. Probably less so ones who are invading his home.

The first thing he does is yell at me, with his dark grey tail puffed, and his lighter ears essentially mimicking the curvature of little devil horns.

“It’s just me, bud!” I coo, kneeling down and offering a hand for him to sniff.

He hisses in response. He rarely hisses — usually only if I annoy him too much, or if he’s hurt, a la bonking his head during his morning zoomies for example. I love this little idiot. And I know he’s just scared right now, so I’m not too worried about this reaction from him.

“Yeah?” I challenge, sitting cross-legged, “You wanna tussle?”

His pupils dilate.

I raise my own fists near my chest and furrow my brows. “Put ‘em up!”

Cannoli forms into that low, chest down-butt high stance that cats do before pouncing. I genuinely can’t tell at this point if he knows it’s me and he’s just messing around, or if I’m about to get mauled.

“I’ll pummel ya,” I playfully warn in hopes of the former.

He sneezes in retaliation. I lower my fists for a moment and softly offer him a blessing. He huffs out the wet remnants of his sneeze (eugh…) and shakes his head before reassuming his position, as do I.

I cautiously choose not to move more than this just yet. I know I can heal faster now than ever before, but I’d still rather not experience my son brutalizing me, believe it or not!

Because of my lack of movement, Cannoli doesn’t budge either. He simply watches me, with those big beady eyes… he’s probably going through the same thought process as myself, if I had to guess. 

The little guy spends a few beats more trying to decide whether to attack me or not before running away to hide. 

Victory is mine. 

Once he’s out of sight, I lay myself down in the center of the main room and wait for him to come back. He likes to hide in the shower when he’s feeling jittery… he’s probably in there. I don’t wanna barge in and make him feel any more skittish, though.

It doesn’t take very long for him to show back up. He approaches me with hesitance as I lay still, save for my head, which follows his movements. The cat sniffs my knee, then nears my face and sniffs my cheek. I crinkle my nose and the corresponding eye as his whiskers tickle me, but refrain from moving my hands just yet.

After one last once-over, Cannoli crawls onto my belly and lays down, his face no more than an inch or two from mine. 

Did it work? Does he know it’s me?

I reach up a shy finger near his nose. He sniffs it, then nuzzles into it. I can feel his purrs vibrating onto my stomach.

He totally knows it’s me. 

I scratch under his chin, then hold him close as I raise myself up, carrying him to the bed. He stays out when I leave for a sec to get ready to join him.

He seems to have calmed down a considerable amount, given he’s fallen asleep already by the time I’m back.

Let’s hope he can manage to stay this relaxed when I inevitably shapeshift back to normal overnight. 

_______________

After a long few hours of being unable to sleep, I finally conked out.

But, I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to Cannoli loudly meowing and pouncing on me so as to alert me that I was a human again. Annoyed but feeling appreciative — now I know what kinda time frame I’m working with — I thanked the man. Then, after wrangling him into a cuddle, I managed to sleep in ‘til almost noon. Fine by me, honestly.

I don’t have to be ready for the event — both below- or above-ground — until later in the day, so I’ll take my time picking the last of my crops for the season. As usual, I pop in some earbuds to listen to music, humming and dancing around a little while I work. 

The harvest passes by relatively quickly. The only hiccup: one of my pumpkins began to look similar to a void egg, practically overnight. Never seen anything like it, and never want to again! Sensing that something or someone did this somehow, I sigh, carrying the pumpkin over to my outdoor waste bin. 

I unceremoniously plop that puppy inside and briskly retreat, choosing to ignore the magical heebie jeebies I got while touching it. Not only do I not want to mess with something potentially just as dangerous as a fucking void egg, but I’d rather avoid using or shipping the pumpkin only to find out later that it’s got some kinda hex on it and wiped out a small population. 

Y’never know. 

After scavenging the cave for some fruit the local bats might’ve left behind and preemptively scything some weeds and dead plants — easier to get it done now than when there’s snow blanketing the ground — I rush to get ready and head to Seb’s. I wanna squeeze in some time with him before spending the next however many hours doing magic and potentially traversing through pipes, y’know? Plus, Magnus is busy setting up for tonight anyway, and Seb already said he’d welcome the company while he crams some last-minute work in. Everyone benefits. 

Robin’s not at her counter when I arrive, but the scent of sugar cookies wafts through the cabin. Must be because of her.

Hmm… I could go for some cookies…

Seb can wait.

I make a beeline down the hall and to the right, where the kitchen table is covered in several sheet pans, all of which are topped with cookies of various shapes: pumpkins, ghosts, skulls, and cats. They’re all coated with sprinkles — those sugary ones that kinda look like glittery flakes rather than pellets— which are a mixture of black, purple, and orange in color. 

“Whoa,” I murmur. 

I want one.

“You touch any of those, you die,” a slightly gravelly and intimidating, albeit loving, voice warns from my left. As if she read my mind… 

I look up to the source and see Robin turned towards the counter, adorning plaid green pajama pants and a plain white tee beneath a deep red apron. I smile at the sight of some cute bunny slippers covering her feet.

“Cause of death?”

“Me.”

“I need specifics.” I join her as I speak, leaning my elbows onto the one clean-ish spot on the countertop and watching from the sidelines while she struggles to hand-cut shapes into this next batch of dough. I’ve got no idea what she’s aiming for, considering it looks like she’s just shredding it up. 

Unless that’s the point… to be, y’know, avant garde or whatever.

Clearly frustrated, she puts the knife down and crumbles the substance back into a ball before rolling it flat. “How about a stabbing?” she finally suggests.

I wash my hands and make a point to hum, as though I’m thinking real hard. I come to the conclusion of, “It's worth the risk,” as I dry off and steal a second knife from their block. “What are you trying to make?” I ask, subtly offering some help.

She doesn’t oppose, scooting over a little to spare me some room. “Spiderwebs.” 

“Sounds complicated…” I tilt my head, scrutinizing the dough while trying to imagine how to make this work. “The shapes you have aren’t enough?” I ask, nodding slightly towards the table.

“No,” she scoffs. “Jas and Vincent are little snobs with sweets, I tell ya…”

Robin leans an elbow on my shoulder and places her other hand on her hip. I notice now that her nails, which are usually bare, are alternating between black and orange paint. So festive!

“Are you icing them?” 

“The kids?”

I snort. “Not what I had in mind.”

She answers more seriously, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“But what if you…” I shimmy her off me and carve out a spiky ball — like one of those pow! bubbles from comic books. “…do something like this, then ice the web onto it?”

Robin’s brows furrow and her lips purse while she glares down at the dough. She looks skeptical.

I tack on, “And you could cover the icing in sprinkles too, so there won’t be any weird biases towards these or the others. At least visually.”

Her brows raise at that, and she tilts as she thinks it out before finally nodding. “Y'know what?” She motions her head to the table and begins copying the shape I made while she says, “You’ve earned yourself a cookie, stab-free.”

Oh fuck yes. I triumphantly pump my fist through the air. She chuckles, bumping her hip into me as if to shoo me away. 

I grab my victim, a still-warm pumpkin. “Y’don’t want more of my expertise?” I ask before chomping down. God damn, this is a good cookie. 

“Not anymore,” the redhead responds, “unless you wanna help me ice these things.” 

“I can!” I slowly back out of the kitchen, stealing an extra treat — a cat — while she’s distracted. The troll toll. “Just call for me when they’re outta the oven or whatever and I’ll come back up.”

“Might take you up on that.” Although Robin responds cheerily, she still doesn’t look up. She’s locked in. 

Leaving the woman to her devices, I make my way to her son’s lair. 

I knock. A grunt grants me access. When I open the door, I notice the room is silent, save for some breathing and the whirring computer fans. It looks empty, too.

“Uh…” My eyes scan the space while I step inside, shutting the door behind me and biting into the second cookie.

I wrap around to the front of Seb’s desk. He’s leaning against it, his face resting in his forearms and a blanket draped over his shoulders. Beside him are several energy drink cans and a coffee mug. All drained.

“Long night?”

He grunts again. 

“You at least get all your work done?” I ask after finishing my second cookie, and then softly massage my thumbs into his upper back. He lets out a sigh of relief before nodding.

I guess he really crammed as much as he could, for better or worse.

“Let’s get you to bed, love.”

“Gotta get ready…” he mumbles.

“You have, like, 5 or 6 hours! Sleep a little bit. Take some care of yourself, for fuck’s sake.”

Another grunt.

“Pleeease?”

Another one… and he reluctantly gets up. 

He trudges his way to his bed and flops down on top of it before groaning once more. I laugh through my nose, follow him over, and then crouch down beside his bed and close to his face. 

“Want me to stay? Orrr I can come back later and do your makeup or something..?”

“Yeh,” he slurs against his pillow. 

Running my fingers through his hair, I giggle at his non-answer and contemplate my day leading up to the sewer party for a sec. 

I could go be lazy at home, or be lazy here. Or, I could see if Sam, Abby or Leah wanna hang out, maybe. Although, Leah is probably busy getting ready for tonight. I have no idea what Sam or Abby would be doing around now, but from what I can tell, Leah has big plans for her and Elliot’s costumes. Wouldn’t tell me what they’re going as, only that they’re a duo.

I didn’t really think through what I’d do if my plans to simply exist with Seb fell through. 

Before I can decide, he’s quietly snoring. Cute. I part his hair and leave a gentle peck against his balmy forehead before standing. Maybe a walk will lead me to my destined outcome. Or something. Or, maybe I could start praying to the spirits to give me their wisdom, or whatever. Idk how they work and I can’t commune with ‘em enough to ask.

Sebby’s PC is still on. I should turn it off, or at least put it to sleep for him…

Not before leaving a little present though. 

Hehehhh. 

As I plop down in his chair, I open up his browser, and then YouTube. I settle on a video of a Pokemon walking around with some cute music for ten hours straight, good god; then, for good measure, I make sure to put it on loop — maybe he won’t see it until later in the night! — before putting the PC to sleep, hoping it will still be playing whenever he gets back to it. 

I dunno if I’ve ever left Seb’s house while he was asleep before. 

This feels weird — like I’m abandoning him, or something. 

Hands on my hips, I do a once over of the room.

…Back upstairs we go, I guess!

“What’s the over-under on those things?” I ask once I make it back to the kitchen.

“Is that your hip way of asking how the cookies are doing?”

“Depends, did it sound hip?”

“Sounds dorky.” I feign surprise. Robin tacks on, “Not helping your case.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “I can’t hide what I am.”

“They’re alright,” she finally answers, scrubbing a dirty bowl in the sink. “Should be able to tackle ‘em on my own.”

“Sick. See you later, then.”

Robin nods at me as I back out of the room with a wave. “Don’t fall down the mountain on your way… wherever,” she warns. 

Turning the wave into a set of finger guns, I spin around. “I’ll do a backflip if I do.” 

“So cool!” she sarcastically calls after me.

I blow out a raspberry without turning back to her. 

When I finally exit the cabin, I decide to go check out what Abby’s doing. We haven’t really hung out one-on-one, and I’m curious how that would go.

Unfortunately, as I approach the decline into town, I spot a bunch of barriers.

“Fuuuuuck,” I groan. 

I’d forgotten that Magnus specified that, if you don’t live near the town square, he and Linus won’t allow you in that area ‘til it’s all set up.

He emphasized that it included me. Because I’d be a distraction, or whatever. 

…It is a little flattering that he’d be distracted by my simply being there, in its own way. But now that I’ve set my heart on not going home, it’s a bit annoying to have to deal with this.

Sighing, I make my way towards the backwoods. So much time to kill until he’s done and I can get my own costume started up. Ugh.

…Unless..?

A probably definitely dangerous thought invades my head, and before I can tell myself it’s a dumb idea that I shouldn’t even think about doing, my feet are picking up their pace.

I’m gonna have to do a little breaking and entering for my activity of choice, but luckily, I know how to pick locks. Don’t ask how. S’not important.

_______________

“I should be mad at you, you know.” 

“Buuut…?”

Magnus sighs, picking up a short, white strand of hair between his fingers. “I’m proud that you managed this on your own.”

I flash him a pointy, shit-eating grin. With the exception of a few things, one example being that my hair is shoulder-length and wavy rather than long and straight like it was yesterday, my solo transformation went exactly as planned. 

“Please refrain from doing this without my guidance in the future, though.”

A little embarrassed, I avert my gaze. “Sorry, sorry, yeah… That was stupid.” 

“Extremely! You could have gotten hurt.”

“I know—”

“This altar shows little mercy for those it deems untrusting,” he cuts me off to emphasize his point, “You could have been mangled by the damned thing.”

I blink dumbly, trying to imagine what that would feel like. “Would it really—“

“Yes!” Magnus huffs out a half-hearted laugh. “When I came down here and heard it in use my heart nearly expelled itself from my chest.” Not my best idea, after all. Who woulda thunk... “To enter my home unprompted I can overlook with ease because it’s you, my love, but you must not do this again.” As he speaks, he motions his arms to the shrine. I’ve never seen him so animated.

I sigh, shut my eyes, and nod. “I promise I won’t do it again.” I softly offer, “I’m really sorry, Magnus,” feeling stupid as ever. It’s times like this where I remember he has over a hundred years of experience on me — of life on me. 

He sighs himself. “It’s alright, I’m— I’m just happy you’re safe.” He cups my face in his hands. Inspects it, his thumbs rubbing my cheeks. “These golden freckles are lovely.” 

“Huh!” I grin, placing my hands on his.

“Yet another lovely artistic liberty from the shrine?”

I nod my answer and pat a kiss to one of his palms. “You think I’ll really pass as an elf down there?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” 

“Love the vote of confidence,” I snort. 

Magnus smiles, warm as ever. “You’ll be fine, dear.” He slides his hands into mine. “Ready?”

Nervous, my voice wavers a little as I confirm. I shut my eyes, and a moment later, the air is damp and thick, with — to my delight — no more than a mild musk to its scent. Almost kinda smells like ferrets down here.

“Here we are,” Magnus murmurs as I open my eyes. 

I have to hold back some giddy shimmying as I scan our surroundings. There are purple lights strung around the tiled walls — I guess string lights are just popular with elementals? That, or Magnus and Krobus just have similar taste — and fog machines emitting purpley-grey clouds are scattered around the perimeter.

In the nasty greenish water to our left is a boat with a mouse-like creature selling something from it. They have a little hat on, and they’re waving their tiny arms around trying to get the attention of nearby partiers. 

I hope that fella makes some good sales!

Across the way on our right is a large archway, leading to what unfortunately looks like a makeshift pool. 

In the sewer sludge.

I hope elementals are immune to any sorts of sickness they can get from that, because that’s fuckin’ nasty.

Festive music is playing over a speaker… somewhere, and it’s currently on none other than Monster Mash. A bunch of shadow people are dancing to it, while others are playing some sort of party game. 

There are some shadow people existing as they are, while others are dressed an awful lot like the people from around Pelican Town. One has a full-blown Haley cosplay on, with some balloons shoved in their shirt to give themself boobs. I wonder how much spying they had to do to nail her look… I wonder how they got clothes that match hers so perfectly, too. 

Burglary, perhaps?

The drama!

This entire thing feels like something straight out of a cheesy 90’s or 2000’s Spirit’s Eve movie. It’s so cute and cool and whimsical and oh my god, I’m so happy right now.

Magnus squeezes my palm. “There they are!” 

I look at him to see what he’s talking about, and then follow his line of vision to a shadow person headed our way. They’re about my height, maybe an inch or two taller, which renders them much shorter than the others here from what I can tell. They’re much more round than the rest, too — not quite as human-shaped, for lack of better phrasing. They have a large red bow tie around what I’m assuming is their neck area, and their eyes are lined with shimmery silver makeup.

They catch my stare and lock eyes with me. I smile and offer a timid wave. Their eyes dart away.

Maybe they’re shy, too?

“Krobus!” Oh!! It’s them! “How are you, my friend?” Magnus asks, crouching down to hug them.

Krobus meets him in a tender embrace, a soft flush on their cheeks while they grin, “I’m well. Thank you for coming!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that much.” Magnus puts a hand on my shoulder before introducing me, “This is the beautiful (y/n) I’ve been telling you about.”

I’m never a fan of being put on the spot like this. My cheeks warm up — I wonder what color my blush is, with my skin already being pink as an elf? — as I wring my antsy hands behind my back. “Nice to meet you, Krobus!” 

“Y-you too,” they nod. “Magnus told me you had to disguise yourself,” they add quietly. “It looks very pretty and authentic.”

My smile widens — partially because of their compliment, and also because of how matter-of-factly they talk — as I shyly look down at myself, giving my new form another once-over. “Oh, thanks!” 

I look back at them, and feeling compelled to compliment back, I tell them their makeup looks nice. The corners of their mouth turn up slightly, the flush returning to their cheeks. 

“I only came to say ‘hello’ — I must return to my game of Pin the Nose on the Goblin. It’s most likely my turn by now,” they say to us both.

Their game of what?!

“Let me know if you need anything. Please feel free to purchase a mask from the rodent of unusual cuteness if you’d like one.” Krobus turns to me and adds, shifting back and forth on their feet, “Um, I also sell rare and exotic goods down here every day. Please stop by, if you’d like, but be aware that I remain silent to honor Yoba on Fridays.” They take a deep breath, seemingly winded from all the talking, before adding, “It still feels strange to talk to a human, but you seem very nice, and I do hope you enjoy your time with us.”

Oh my god they’re adorable. 

I nod, doing my best to contain my excitement. “Thank you, I really appreciate that. A-and thanks for having us!”

“Indeed,” Magnus chimes in, his own smile lighting up the room. Pipes? Whatever. “Your gatherings are always something to look forward to. Please, go have fun.”

Krobus nods at us both, then bows before scurrying away.

Magnus can tell how endeared I am already. “Enchanting, aren’t they?”

I nod vigorously. “Dude I don’t even know what to do with myself, this is so cool!” I turn towards him, a little bit of a bounce in my toes and a subtle flap in my hands. “I’m—“ I cut myself off, noticing Magnus stifling laughter. “What?”

He breaks. His own giggles are infectious as ever, as I find myself joining in. I don’t even know what we’re laughing at. He just sounds so stinkin’ cute.

“Your ears,” he manages. “They’re very expressive today.”

I reach up to feel them. As I do, I notice a bit of a downward turn to them. “Did they do this yesterday?” I question with my brows furrowed. My smile swiftly comes back as I speak, feeling them ebb with my words. 

“No!” He reaches down to feel one and I can’t help but lean into the touch. “They were as stiff as ever.”

“Huh…” I reach for them again as we begin to advance into the party, mesmerized. 

I think about how I really, really wish I could just stay like this without consequence. Being an elf is so fun, man.

…Then, my face (and ears) droop. “Ah, shit.”

“Hm?”

“How am I gonna explain that during the town’s Spirit’s Eve thing?”

Magnus goes quiet as we slow to a halt. “You… huh.” 

I tilt my head and bring my knuckles to my mouth. Not sure if it was on purpose, but Magnus does the same, pairing the action by hugging his other arm across his ribs.

We think in silence for a few moments, before he suggests, “Perhaps the ‘prosthetics’ move with your ears?”

“Do my ears ever usually move?” 

He winces. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

“…They do now I guess.”

“If it comes down to it, it can be a ‘trick of the light.’”

“That definitely won’t work.”

“Can’t say I didn’t try,” he mumbles with a little bit of sass, shrugging.

I quietly chuckle at Magnus’ aloofness. He’s usually so much more formal, even when he’s relaxed, or when he’s not necessarily trying to be. It’s honestly super fucking attractive to see this slight change in his demeanor. 

Maybe it’s because he’s around so many other elementals? He’s told me plenty about how magic feeds off magic, people are naturally drawn to magic, all that jazz…

“I don’t suppose you have any fancy spell to make them not expressive, do you?” I ask, shoving that thought away. Focus, lady, we’ve gotta think of an alibi. 

“Not that I can think of, no.”

I huff, letting it go. Immediately dropping that focus. “I’ll figure it out later.”

“Oh my gosh!” a spectral, androgynous voice calls from nearby. Magnus beams at someone behind me, and when I turn, the shadow person dressed like Haley is completely fawning over me, oh wow. “Rasmo, you sly duggy, who is this little elf you have here?!” Their eyes are practically sparkling as they inspect me, crouching for a closer look.

He pulls me close, and I melt into the familiar touch, grinning up at him as he introduces me to them. They’re very excited to find out I’m his soul mate, and I learn soon that while those aren’t very relevant to shadow people, this one in particular does enjoy a good love story. 

After some prompting from them, Magnus bullshits his way through how we met, making up a tale of childhood friendship, and the spirits bringing us together again and blah, blah, blah.

I make sure to ask him in his head at one point if shadow people know how unlikely it is for an elf to be a time-partner to another elf, in case he forgot about that in his excitement to… show me off, so to speak. He’s got it covered, though — they don’t tend to know much about traditions outside of their own. If they do ask — fuck it, we’re that rare one in a million now.

In short, we’re fine and dandy.

The next hour or so follows the same formula:

A shadow person who knows Magnus comes up to us, gets all excited to see him with someone new, and I sit there and take a bunch of compliments while trying not to hide behind Magnus from the overwhelm of being perceived by so many. Then, I do my best to keep up as they catch up with one another. Apparently it’s very rare Magnus meets up with most of these people.

It’s… a lot.

I did enjoy this for a little in the beginning, because obviously I’m going to have a blast interacting with a whole new species and learning about a new culture up close. This shit is fascinating! But in the end, it’s no different for me mentally than talking to this many human people.

I can only handle so much.

After plenty of socializing, browsing the wares of the merchant (who calls themself The Hat Mouse, oh my god!), and trying a few rounds of Pin the Nose on the Goblin, we finally find ourselves with some downtime, so we sit near the “pool” and gather our bearings together. 

“This is more tiring than I thought it would be,” I murmur against Magnus’ arm. 

“We can leave if you’d like,” he suggests. “You do have an entire second event to attend, after all.”

“Yeah, that would be nice…” I sigh, closing my eyes and letting the feeling of his large hand rubbing circle on my lower back soothe me. “For what it’s worth, this was still fucking great.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, dearest.” He leans over to kiss my head, then attempts to lean his cheek against it. Our height difference makes it hard, so I give him some space to accommodate that.

It doesn’t work. Now we’re just awkwardly sitting like a foot apart and smooshing our heads together.

As soon as we make eye contact from our awkward angles, I break. “Pfft—“ 

He snorts into my hair, his warm breath fanning my scalp beneath it. 

It’s rare I get to see Magnus so genuinely carefree. He’s always thinking about or working with magic in one way or another. And that’s obviously not a bad thing, but all in all, the arcane as a whole is still within the realm of work for him. It’s been really nice to see him get to simply exist like anyone else today.

Naked, we both rush to the bathroom. 

I pee and do my best to clean all the Seb Residue™ off and outta me, while Seb wipes off the bits of red lipstick that look out of place off of his mouth and the skin around it; and then while I wipe off all my lipstick and grab his clothes, fangs and cape for him, he applies that black lipstick he was hoping for, puts on some more deodorant, and brushes his hair.

Since the shrine didn’t give my hair any oomph, I tie some of it half-up into a braid while Seb gets dressed. It’s super soft and easy to work with like this.

While I’m braiding, I wonder if our beloved fish son has any opinions on having to watch us bang. 

Right in front of his salad! 

Can fish food even be considered salad..? I dunno what it’s made of. 

I’m sure it can be. 

When I’m finished, I top him up with a snack and decide that it’s salad now. Gerard is so health conscious, wow!

Seb and I don’t dare to say a word, not wanting to distract each other while we get ready — we just focus on being as not-fucked out as we possibly can, and looking presentable. By the time we’re both done, we hear another knock.

We jog to the door to meet whoever’s there. It turns out to be Maru. 

“Oh!” 

I think we startled the poor girl by just flinging the door open in her face like that. She puts a hand over her chest, as if to soothe her heart. Oops.

She looks adorable — her costume is just a simple black cat, but rather than going the sexy route with it, she’s wearing a black onesie with a puffy tail sewn onto it and some mittens. The hood is down, she has cat ear clip-ons in her hair, and she drew a little triangular nose, freckles and whiskers onto her face. 

“Cute costume!” I smile, trying not to fawn a little. She may be, what, 19? 20? But I almost feel like I want to protect her right now...

“Thank you! Yours too, wow.” Recouped, she continues to Seb, “Um. Dad is pretty mad… he almost came down here himself but I went ahead of him.”

“Of course,” he rolls his eyes. “When isn’t he pissed at me?”

Maru shrugs awkwardly. It’s probably so weird for her, being Demetrius’ clear favorite and trying to talk to Seb about him... and on the other side of things, I know it’s hard for Seb to constantly be in Maru’s shadow. I don’t blame him for feeling some resentment towards her.

He sighs. “Thanks for taking over. That was cool of you.” 

He holds up a fist for her to bump. She smiles shyly, returning it. She shifts on her feet a little, and adds, “I’d just try to avoid him, if you can. He’s a little mad at everyone today, actually.”

“I’m willing to bet you’re safe from him.”

“Seb…” I nudge him with my elbow, furrowing my brows. 

I get that it’s hard but god damn, she can’t help it if Demetrius is gonna favor her so much!

His sister peers down at her feet, silent. Probably doesn’t know what to say to that; probably can’t deny it, but doesn’t wanna lie.

Seb shuts his eyes to recoup for a sec. “Shit, I’m… I’m sorry.” Sighs again and adds, “I know it’s not your fault. Didn’t mean to be a dick.”

Atta boy.

She smiles up at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“I dunno what happened for him to be mad at mom, but is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Maru replies, her voice quiet. “I couldn’t tell you why she’s so down, but I can tell it’s because of dad because he isn’t talking to her.”

Seb rolls his eyes. “‘Course…”

“Um,” I butt in, feeling timid.

I’ve rarely ever spoken to Maru, and the few times I have, it’s always turned into stuff that’s hard to understand for my dumb idiot baby brain, like her research and inventions. It’s super cool but man if I don’t feel confused every time. 

That said, it feels weird to talk about their family squabbles with her, but… 

“She told me earlier,” I continue when they’re both looking at me. I keep my eyes low and focused on nothing in particular, avoiding eye contact. “He doesn’t want to go into town, and doesn’t wanna wear the matching stuff she bought him.”

“Ohhh… That’s— damn it. He didn’t wear it.”

My shoulders slump. “Seriously?” I frown. 

Maru nods, half-shrugging, “He just has an old hazmat suit on,” adds on for Seb, “The same one he wore in that weird rain we got a few summers ago. It still has some green stains on it…” and tacks on in a mumble, “At least it’s festive, I guess.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at the man. Poor Robin…

I look at Seb, whose jaw is tight. He’s holding back something. I don’t want him to have to, but at the same time, I don’t want him getting into a whole thing with Demetrius. Based on what he’s told me, their fights don’t sound pretty.

“Let’s just go,” he sighs, nodding at the stairs.

Maru nods and runs up, and we follow closely behind. Her tail nearly tickles my face. 

When we get outside, Demetrius is waiting with clear impatience. Robin stands nearby, tupperwares of cookies in hand, still upset as ever. 

Luckily, Demetrius doesn’t say anything snarky when he sees Seb. He just makes a show of sighing, turns around, and begins walking down into the town. For a moment, none of us follow. Maru winds up being the first to go. 

When she leaves, I meet Robin’s eyes and try to cheer her up, reenacting the punches I did earlier. A silent offer for me to kick his ass (for real this time!). I’m happy to see the corners of her lips upturn and the apples of her cheeks plump up in response.

“The fuck are you doing?” Seb laughs.

“Don’t worry about it, toots.”

“Toots?” Robin chimes in. 

“I said what I said.”

_______________

Abby, Sam, and Victor — a knight in bulky armor, with her helmet tucked under her arm; a beautiful princess, I’m assuming to be saved by Abby, from… something; and another vampire, in the same cheesy outfit as Seb but without makeup, respectively — are totally gobsmacked when they see Seb and I.

While Victor is bantering with Seb about their matching look amongst other topics, Abby and Sam gawk at me. 

“Can you… like… not?” I shyly ask. I can only look around and pretend to be people watching to avoid their stares for so long.

“The fuck do you mean ‘Can I not?’” Abby argues, “How in the hell did you do that?!”

“Did you, like, dye your skin?” Sam reaches out to touch my forehead with a nosy finger, but I jump away. 

“Makeup,” I lie, “Looots of makeup. Can’t touch it much or it’ll just rub right off.”

“What about the hair?” 

Abby nudges him with her elbow. “Ever heard of wigs, dumbass?” 

“That’s a sick wig, though! Like, holy crap.”

“It is pretty nice,” she agrees, emphasizing the T’s in the word “pretty.” “Must’ve been hella expensive.”

“Hella?” I pry, scrunching my nose. “The 2010s want their slang back, bozo.”

“Oh, bite me.” I bite the air in her direction, and she flinches back, laughing. “Down, girl!”

I cross my arms. “I’m an elf, not a puppy,” I grump. 

“Dog ears would be kinda…”

Abby groans. “Saaam, dude, please don’t do this.”

“I mean…” he shrugs, attempting the signature Byrne eyebrow waggle, and failing yet again. 

“Down, boy!” I laugh, feebly swatting at him. 

He turns it into a pseudo-handshake, swatting back a few times before dapping me up. We finish it with a fist bump. 

Abby fake-coughs out the word “Simp.”

The simp in question replies with great speed, “Says you.”

“The fuck you mean ‘says me?’”

I tease, “You’re big on questioning the integrity of your friends’ words tonight.”

“I’m a knight. Isn’t that a cop, in a way?”

“Acab.”

“That’s my girl!” Seb temporarily cuts in. Victor and I bark out a laugh before they continue their conversation.

“Does that make this an interrogation?” I go on through some residual giggles.

“Uh, yup.”

“It’s our right to remain silent then!”

“Yeah!” Sam agrees. “We’re sticking it to the man!”

“Neither of you have a stick,” Abby quips, unsheathing her toy sword and wagging it at us. 

“Well, y’know…” I trail off, giving Sam a quick up-and-down. Him and I share a shitty grin with each other before flashing ‘em to Abby. 

Sam finishes my sentence, “One of us does.”

She puts the sword away. “Groooss,” she whines, face palming. Sam and I laugh about it, being the mature gentlepeople we are, and exchange yet another a fist bump. “I’m getting punch, you guys want any?”

“Hell yeah,” Sam responds while I nod.

“I’ll help,” I offer, scurrying closer to Abby. 

“Sick. What about you two?” she asks a little louder to get Seb and Victor’s attention. 

“Huh?” Seb asks.

“Punch?”

They answer in unison, “Yeah, sure.” 

“Jinx!”

“You can’t say ‘jinx’ for other people, Sam.”

“Then why was I able to do it just now?”

Abby and I snort, her rolling her eyes too as we walk away from their silly argument… 

And right over to Pam, who’s pouring, like, a gallon of vodka into the punch bowl! God damnit, Pam!

We both sigh. 

“I mean,” I mutter, shrugging sheepishly, “I’m down for it.”

“You sure, tipsy?”

“Tipsy?” I snort, handing her some orange plastic cups as Pam walks away with her thoroughly boozed bev. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you get tipsy so fast.”

I groan. “Please don’t make that a thing.”

“Okay, Tipsy.”

I bump her hip with mine. “Ow,” I wince on contact. “Real metal, or something?”

She simply winks at me. 

…Huh?

Is it real or not, Ab?

I’ve gotta know how heavy that shit is if it’s real.

Is Abby, like, jacked or something?

Still ignoring my question, she wiggles a cup expectantly.

I move on. “Sure, why not?”

Abby tastes a sip. “Fuckin’— Yoba, Pam!” she whisper-yells. “This is why not.” 

She hands me the drink and I give it a sniff.

Oh my god.

I take a sip. 

Oh my—

“God!”

Abby stifles a laugh, continuing to scoop punch into the other cups. “How the fuck did your ears do that?”

I guess they moved. Shit, what did Magnus suggest? 

“Uh…” oh god, oh fuck, “trick of the light..?”

“That’s not how ears work, lady.”

“They do now, I dont fuckin’ know.” I take a hefty sip of punch. Sure as hell need it. 

Lucky for me, she just laughs it off with a weird look. I give her one back, and she laughs a little harder. 

I could swear I see a little bit of a blush on her cheeks as she observes me for a moment longer than necessary, but she puts her helmet on, hiding her complexion and giving herself the hands to carry this stuff. She handles two of the drinks while I maneuver the other three into my grasp.

Handing Seb and Victor their drinks while Abby gives Sam his, I tell them, “Dink up, gamers.”

Now that I’m passing off a drink to Vic, it’s like he’s seeing my costume for the first time. His eyes bug for a sec, “How the hell—“

“Don’t worry about it.” I shoot him a finger gun with my free hand and wink before downing another sip of punch.

He doesn’t question it. Just nods and shrugs.

It’s honestly nice that he pays less attention to me and my looks than the others. There’s a lot less pressure to exist, in a way, around him. Not that the usual attention isn’t flattering, but like, never in a gazillion years did I think I’d move to a small town like this and have a bunch of pretty people totally smitten by me, y’know?

I wonder if, being in the city for so long now, Victor is just used to seeing people way cuter than me. Maybe I’m a 10 here but a 3 or 4 there. Or maybe I’m just not his type…

For fuck’s sake — listen to me, wondering how it’s possible that he’s the only person in this group who isn’t attracted to me. Has my ego really been inflated that much?

Whatever. Either way, I'm glad at least one of my friends isn’t romantically or sexually interested in me, at least that I know of.

Seb wraps an arm around my back and pulls me in front of him. Nearly coughs the damn drink onto my head a few seconds later. 

“Pam?” he asks.

“Pam.”

“Paaam,” Victor lilts approvingly, nodding slowly and with a shit-eating grin before downing his whole cup.

“Fucking hell, dude!”

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Abby begins chanting. 

“I mean, I already did,” Victor points out, rubbing his neck. 

Fuck. He remembered to put faux bite marks on it. 

I shoulda given Seb some of my own, heheh—

No. Down, girl.

Abby challenges him, “Chug more.”

Victor puts his hands up in mock defense. “Fine, I guess I’ll do it. Only ‘cause you’re forcing me to.” Then he walks away, empty cup in hand ready to be refilled.

“Hey,” Seb murmurs near my ear while Abby and Sam goad Victor on. His breath and low voice send a chill down my spine.

“W-what’s up?”

“Maze?”

“Oh fuck yeah, let’s go.”

The emo man takes me by the hand and we make our escape, disappearing into the hedges. While we navigate our way through, he explains the concept: get through before anyone else, and you win a huge, golden pumpkin. Nobody knows why it’s so special, but most people seem eager to get it. 

If you were to give it to anyone, it’s a sure-fire way to get in their good graces. The whole thing sounds like a silly town tradition, like bouquets, but I love the whimsy of it.

Only a few turns later, we pass Harvey, who’s all but cowering a few paces away from some hay bales.

Doctor Haywood, more like Doctor Scared-Of-Hayw— I’m sorry, that one barely even makes sense…

Seb encourages him, raising his glass (well, plastic), “Hang in there, doc.”

He replies with a shaky thumbs-up. 

We continue on, weaving our way through a mixture of fake and real spiders, some subdued (but still intimidating) monsters, and a fake-out pumpkin patch, before arriving at a dead end occupied by a Baba Yaga-lookin’ hut with feet.

“Coulda sworn this was the right way,” Seb mutters. 

I look around, trying to spot any paths we could take. I’ve got nothing.

“Need help?”

“Oh god!“ I jump, startled.

“You got that too, right?”

“Ye— Wait, he can talk to more than one person at a time telepathically?”

“I can with some effort.”

“Where the fuck are you?!” Seb laughs. 

“Look to the cliffs.”

Seb and I both turn, scanning for him. With nothing but the darkness and our stupidity to blame, it takes a few seconds to notice him – he’s practically right above us, sitting back on his hands with Linus cross-legged at his side. He waves while Magnus offers a warm smile, and I smile at them both, nudging Seb.

I think out loud, “Guess it makes sense why you could hear us.”

He winks. Cute… “Unless I was simply reading your mind again.”

I fake astonishment with a fist on my chest clutching at imaginary pearls. “You wouldn’t dare!” I proclaim, trying to sound like a generic damsel in distress from an old film.

“He would,” Seb points out.

“I would,” Magnus agrees, nodding.

“Whatever, man.” I take a long sip of my punch, definitely beginning to feel the effects. I wince a little at the sting it leaves behind. 

“Are you alright?” Linus asks, having noticed.

After shaking off the feeling a bit with Seb patting at my back and quietly chuckling to himself, I nod. 

A one-word explanation should do. “Pam.”

“Pam…” Linus nods sagely. 

Magnus looks a little confused. “Pam?”

“She spikes the punch at, like, every town gathering,” Seb explains. 

“Ohhh.”

“Surprised you haven’t noticed it more,” I poke, “with all your creeping around at these things.”

“Hush, you.”

After a little snicker, I ask, “You want some?” I dunno how to get it to them, but I’m sure we could figure it out. 

In lieu of an answer, Magnus holds up a fancy bottle of wine, a lazy, mischievous grin on his face. Linus yoinks it right from his hands and steals a sip. I guess that explains the darkness to both of their cheeks.

“Oh hell yeah.”

“You earned it,” Seb proclaims, vaguely motioning around us. “This is sick.” I enthusiastically nod at the sentiment.

“Indeed we did!” Linus agrees. 

“So uh,” Seb moves on, “about that golden pumpkin…” 

I look over to see him squiggling his eyebrows around, as he often does. He’s got a slight lil shimmy to his shoulders too this time. Dork.

Magnus smiles knowingly. “What about it?”

“Got any hints?” I interject. 

Seb tacks on, “Or answers?”

“Or answers?” I repeat enthusiastically. I mimic the emo’s earlier wiggles, earning a smile from the older men and Seb alike.

“That would be telling.”

“Th—“ I have to stop for a giggle. Pam… “That’s the point!”

“I get it,” Seb laments dramatically, “you hate us.”

I place the back of my hand on my forehead and lean against Sebastian. “M’so hurt I might faint.”

“Spirits save me,” I hear him mutter. His smile betrays the annoyance in his voice. 

Linus comes to our rescue! “Try looking more closely at those hedges behind you.” Magnus nods along.

“Not all heroes wear capes.” Seb salutes the white-haired man. 

“Thank you, Linus!” I beam, tugging Seb a few paces towards our destination. He goes along with me, laughing at my enthusiasm. “Love you, Maggg,” I add in a sing-songy tone.

“Since when do you call him Mag?” Seb questions, his nose scrunched.

I shrug. “How d’ya feel about Maggy then?”

Magnus answers, “Please, no,” while Seb and Linus both shake their heads, Linus laughing as he does so. 

I lazily swing a defeated snap in front of me. “Damn.”

“And I love you too, little elf,” Oh?! Magnus adds on, waving. “Good luck, you two.”

That nickname was so cute! It feels different hearing it from him, versus all the shadow people who called me the same.

God I wish I was always an elf.

Too giddy to respond, I beam back at him before scurrying away. 

“Little elf does it for ya, huh?” Seb asks once we’re alone again. His voice is smooth and he takes his hand from mine to place it atop my head and frick it all makes me fucking melt. 

Sometimes I forget he can just, like, sense my heart rate and shit. Wizards, man… 

“Shuddup.” Comes out as a squeak. 

“Is that who I think it is?” I hear Sam yell from somewhere nearby. 

“No,” Seb lies.

“First they abandon us,” Abby goes on, “and then they lie. Bastards.”

Victor cries, “For shame!”

“Gonna have to catch up if you want an apology,” Seb calls out. 

“You won’t just apologize because I’m an innocent little guy?” Abby pouts. I can’t see it but I’ll be damned if I can’t hear the frown in her voice. “You wouldn’t upset a little guy, would you?”

“I would.”

“Yeah I would too.”

Seb scoffs, “(Y/n) you are a little guy.”

“My point stands.”

“Betrayed by my own kin!” Abby laments. 

“For shame!” Vic repeats with more force.

“You sound more knightly than vampirey when you say that, y’know,” I respond.

“And y’sound more like a squeaky toy than elfily..? Elfly..?” Sound it out buddy! “Elfy,” he decides.

“Yeeowch,” Sam narrates, “a critical hit!”

“Goodbye,” Seb laughs, tugging me along. I stumble a little, but he helps me stay upright.

Pam.

By time we find the pumpkin, let’s fucking go, the others catch up to us, somehow. They must’ve been booking it.

“Dude, dude,” Abby greets us with urgency.

I’m surprised she didn’t immediately mourn the loss of the golden pumpkin.

Behind her, Victor has his eyes locked in on the pumpkin in Seb’s embrace. Sam is next to him, just kinda admiring the scenery. 

Abby places a palm on mine and Seb’s shoulders. “You’ll never guess who I just saw.”

“Try me,” Seb retorts while I tilt my head. 

“You remember that dude from the tower in the woods?” Oh no. “He’s here.”

How did she not see him at the fair earlier in the season?

Whatever.

I wonder if she noticed he’s a whole different color palette now. Sure, Spirit’s Eve is a good excuse and all, but I almost kinda hope she just couldn’t make out the details of his appearance in the dim lighting of his garden to begin with. 

Feeling slightly more than tipsy — living up to the girl’s new name for me, I fucking guess — I trip on my own thoughts, trying to figure out a response. 

Luckily, Seb jumps in. “He does live here, you know.”

“Well fuckin’ duh, but why have I never seen him around before? What’s his deal?”

“T’be fair, he helps Linus set this up every year,” I state. “You’ve gotta just look outside more often.”

“Really?” She squints, “Wait— How do you know that?” 

“I…” shit, shit, “I went back to his house. To apologize!”

Big mistake.

“Aaand that makes you close enough for him to tell you about stuff like that now?”

“I mean… uh.” I’m flubbing this, and if I had to guess by his silence, Sebastian is pretty stuck too. “I guess we’re friends now, yeah, I’unno. I’ve gone over there a bunch at this point.”

“And you just knew about this?” Abby grills Seb, crossing her arms. It seems like Sam and Victor’s interests have been piqued by now. 

“We… are gonna have to explain everything to them if we can’t save ourselves somehow, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Seb answers both Abby and myself. 

“And you didn’t stop her?!” Sam frowns. Fuck, that’s right — he was there for the conversation about me going on my own in the first place. “What if he’s some kind of psycho?”

“He’s—” Seb sighs, rubbing the corners of his eyes, smudging his makeup a little more than I had earlier. “He’s not.”

“Yeah?” Abby rebukes. “How would you know?”

“I already knew him.”

Oh, okay, we’re doing this I guess.

“So… you lied, then?”

Abby looks genuinely hurt. Fuck. 

Sometimes I forget that, even if she isn’t hostile towards me anymore, she still probably has lingering feelings for Seb. He was everything to her until recently, after all. Maybe he still is, but she’s just grown or something. 

“Did you know that he knew the guy?” she asks me. Still sounds hurt, but her voice has hardened a considerable amount.

“No!” I frown, worrying the rim of my cup with my thumb nails. “Not until after meeting him.” It’s not completely wrong… I met Magnus before Seb spilled about their past to me. She doesn’t have to know.

Abby seems to not know where to look, and opts to stare at the helmet in her embrace. It’s almost like she’s just as upset about being left out of this new, weird trio of ours as she is about being lied to, which I can empathize with. Shit sucks…

God. We’re a pair of real dickheads, aren’t we? I knew the weird friendship quest I was on would be as sleezy as it felt. It was stupid of me to follow through with it all that time ago.

Selfishly, part of me is still glad I did, because now I’m friends with her. There’s less drama. Less fear that she’s gonna go, like, totally apeshit on me for dating someone she was either in love with or obsessed with — maybe both? — for so long. 

She really is friendly and sweet and fun to be around when she doesn’t have it out for you, and I’m happy to know this side of her.

Also, maybe I would’ve never gone to Magnus’ tower if this hadn’t happened. Maybe I wouldn’t even know him right now, and maybe he and Seb would’ve never reconnected. It would just be weighing on both of their consciences forever while I’d never meet my literal soulmate.

That would suck.

I shut my eyes for a moment and sigh, trying to sober up my thoughts. “M’sorry for not telling you sooner,” I offer softly. 

“Yeah, me too,” Seb adds. “Look, if you want I can fill you in on everything some other time, but… let’s just enjoy the night for now, yeah?”

“Yeah, enjoy the night,” Abby scoffs under her breath. She continues at her typical volume, “I’m not sure if I should feel more mad or more jealous right now. Like, what the fuck?” 

“Yeah, I… I get it,” I cut in. “You have every right to be mad at us. We didn’t mean to leave y’so out of the loop, though — we didn’t think it mattered.” Realizing that coulda sounded a little insensitive, I quickly tack on, “I mean, he’s just some dude.”  

Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.

How am I getting so good at lying?

God, I suck.

Abby softens a little, part of her seeming to agree, but she still looks upset. She takes a few breaths that seem deeper than usual. Spares a glimpse back at Sam and Vic, who are kinda just awkwardly standing there.

It looks like Sam has something to say too, but he’s keeping his thoughts to himself for now, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look like this before. 

…Like, his face, I mean. I’ve never seen him all dolled up in a pink ball gown that’s too small for him either. Obviously.

I pick at the orange plastic in my hands some more while Seb tears up the nail polish on his left thumb with the adjoined pointer.

“You, uh,” I meekly suggest, “you want the pumpkin..?” I pat the gold gourd for emphasis.

A humble peace offering.

“N—“ She cuts off her initial response and thinks about it. Her shoulders deflate while she realizes, “I mean, kinda? Fuck.” 

“I’ll take it if you don’t,” Sam mutters. 

Victor nudges him. “She didn’t ask you.” 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Abby diverts to Seb. I dunno if he’s just frazzled, or if he was brain-talking to Magnus, or what.

“Just, uh… Stressed.”

I nod. Fuckin’ same, dude, whether it’s a lie or not on his part. 

More awkward silence passes before I figure out a potential solution. 

Maybe… hm.

I clap, newly determined to fix my— our— whoever’s fuck-ups. Seb, Sam and Abby startle while Victor simply waits to see what happens.

“I have a proposition.

“Huh?”

“We can all share the pumpkin.”

Abby tilts her head. “What, like, cut it up?”

“No— well, yes?” I shake my head. “But no.”

“Graceful as ever,” Sam teases me. 

“Shut up, you’re into it,” I shoot back. His cheeks redden while he smiles and rolls his eyes. “What if I, I’unno, make something with it? Aaand we can all hang out and eat pumpkin stuff and whatever. Finish off autumn with a bang.”

“Ha. Bang. Kinky.”

“Sam!” I laugh. Victor nudges him for me. Thank you Victor. “I know I don’t have much room at my place,” I go on, “but I’m the only one with my own house, so we can do it there.”

“You drive a hard bargain, lady,” Abby ponders. 

“Am I allowed to partake in this pumpkin party?” Victor slurs. He sounds shy, almost, even in his more boisterous, drunken state.

“If you can make it out here, hell yeah.”

“Why don’t we do it tomorrow?” Seb chimes in. “You can stay over at my place if your mom lets you.”

“Or mine,” Sam adds.

Abby and I nod. Victor shrugs and nods too. “I’ll ask when she seems ready to leave later. Maybe She’ll be boozy ‘nuff to let me.”

“Cool,” I breathe.

That broke the tension, but now I have a whole thing to host. Ough.

It’s her.

It’s… it’s actually her.

I’d overheard the discussion of a new resident moving onto Mooncrest during one of my periodic visits to Gus’ kitchen. I’d heard the assumptions — which I now know to be true, given her appearance — that it was going to be (g/n)’s granddaughter. 

How could I not have foreseen how significant she would be to me, though?

Oftentimes the spirits give me somewhat of a hint, a little spark of my senses to let me know if something important is happening. Something worth looking into. Something like this, damn it. A wee reminder to not only be more aware of the world around me outside of my work, but to perhaps take the time and effort to foresee what’s to come in my near future.

I feel a subtle vibration in my fingers. 

Are they toying with me? Is that what this is?

Feeling the zaps of their rebuttal through my limbs, I come to the conclusion that they are. 

But… why wait..?

More tingling. 

That was rhetorical, you obviously can’t answer m—

One last buzz, and I feel the spirits’ presence fade. Sigh.

Cheeky little phenomena, they are. I can only hope to ever commune with them in a plane of existence where we can see one another. For now… I might as well be a loon, telepathically speaking with invisible sprites that communicate through touch above all else.

…As though this scenario as a whole — now paying particular attention to not just my potential daughter, but my soulmate as well, all from a row of particularly bountiful bushes — makes me any less of a loon.

I shake the feeling that I’m being strange and that this is probably unnecessary , and I focus on the task at hand. I still am keen on determining whether or not I’ve any relation to Abigail. No use giving up now that I’m here.

My eyes flit to the girl, her hair as vibrant as my own. She’s laughing with her friends, tentatively sipping the punch I saw Pamela spiking with cheap liquor earlier.

I wish I could get close enough to see if there’s any bit of an arcane link connecting us. I desire answers, damn it, not to spend every chance I get contemplating my lineage while hiding just out of view.

I shut my eyes, rubbing them with a thumb and forefinger. 

Just when I believe I can calm my high emotions, my mind wanders to another circumstance that’s haunted me for years. Not nearly as many, but I digress. 

For Abigail to be friends with Sebastian was not exactly improbable, but it is funny, in an ironic way.

Of course Abigail would befriend my former apprentice. One I was rather fond of, at that.

I observe him for a moment. It’s rare to see him in anything brightly colored, aside from occasions such as this, where it’s a requirement. He looks quite handsome, if I do say so.

Is it silly of me to wonder if he’s ever thought the same of me? Is this just another instance of my insecurities controlling my thought process? Or is that a normal thing to think about, and I’ve merely forgotten, given how long it’s been since my last romantic endeavor?

That’s unimportant, I suppose.

Although… he must’ve had some reason for abruptly halting his apprenticeship with me. 

Perhaps to him I was no more than some wretch living in a tower, far from Pelican Town’s main population for reasons unbeknownst to him. He could have asked, of course, but I wouldn’t exactly put it against him to keep his opinions to himself. I mean, look at me. I don’t resemble any of these townsfolk, do I? And of course here I am, spying on them rather than partaking in their activities firsthand, and I spend most of my time in my home when I could be out here socializing, and I’m sure my lack of socialization with non-elementals could be off-putting.

Sure, those who know of me don’t typically enjoy my presence, but…

I don’t know.

God. Now I’m a loon who’s spying and in a vicious pit of self-hatred that I buried myself in from the outskirts of the event.

Lovely.

Perhaps I should go… I’m not being very productive in my research anyway.

I chance one last look towards our newest farmer. I feel another tingle. A pull to her that’s far too tempting to succumb to. As though I want to just leap onto the field and say something to her. Anything.

How do I even go about getting closer to someone I’ve no reason to commune with? Marie worked at a shop, so it was quite easy to befriend her. The others… I had nary a clue where they were or what they were doing. This is an entirely new situation for me.

The farmer’s eyes flicker to mine. I feel the same thunderous commotion in my limbs and my belly as I did when Marie and I first met. God above, this girl has the same bright flush to her cheeks, the same gentle yet piercing gaze… which is… on me…

Oh. 

Shit.

My eyes widen, as do hers. 

She appears to be just as compelled to gravitate to me as I am to her. She takes half of a step forward before looking around at the townspeople and securing herself back in her corner. Thank goodness. If she were to come over here, it would only draw more suspicion as to why the resident recluse in the woods is staring at all these people…

“I know that look, Mag.”

I let gaze shift to Linus’ as his words resonate in my head and can practically feel my irises’ change of hue. I’ve been caught by him as well. Thank the spirits he’s a friend — he knows why I’m here.

“You do indeed.”

“So, (y/n), huh?”

Is that her name, then? It’s lovely…

“Yes,” I answer.

“Is it an attraction, or do you think she’s..?”

“Absolutely. Both.”

“Better get going before you freak her out, then.”

“As if I haven’t already, you know damn well she’s looking at me right now .”

He grins huffs out a silent chuckle before turning to face the dancers once more. “I’m just saying, you could be a tad bit more subtle, boy. Go.”

I sigh. I can still feel (y/n)’s eyes boring into me as I teleport back home, feeling morose rather than embarrassed.

Later in the evening, I succumb to my desire to more formally meet her and go through the lengthy, exhausting process of searching into the future. 

I’m overjoyed to learn that she’ll come to me. That is far less pressure. It gives me time to prepare, too. To look more presentable, or clean, or… I don’t know. I know I can’t prevent the inevitable, but I don’t want to make the process unenjoyable for either of us, obviously. 

When (y/n) eventually does arrive, I’m delighted to learn that not only is she an absolutely lovely being inside and out, but she’s magically inclined as well. I use this as a cover for her impulses to visit my tower:

“One may grow connected to the elements — hence, why you were so heavily drawn toward my abode over time,” I tell her.

It’s not entirely deceitful, and the last thing I want to do is scare her by proclaiming that our destiny brought us to this very moment. 

I lean into being “old” and “wise” as well, referring to her and other townspeople of roughly her age as “young.” I overdo it though, I believe, as she calls me out on it. I don’t take any issue in revealing my true age given I’d likely be closer to her age — maybe a decade or so older — if I were a human. 

I catch her staring a few times throughout our first meeting. I’ve no way to discern whether it’s due to attraction, or if she’s merely judging me, but it piques my curiosity either way. I probe her thoughts a few times for good measure — which (y/n) calls me out on as well, so I know now that I must show restraint. It’s mostly habitual, and I say that much. She understands.

She seems exceptionally sweet and caring. Awfully curious, for sure. A little strange too, but who am I to judge? I’m rather strange myself. And she’s funny, to boot, unless it’s my own giddiness leading me to assume so.

When she leaves, I’m sure to give her a proper send off. Perhaps it’s dramatic, but I’m inclined to believe she enjoys how eccentric this situation as a whole has been. She seemed awfully giddy herself, at times.

Shane was right. I was about to cry. As soon as I stepped outside the tears started falling. I had planned to go grab some groceries from Pierre’s and visit Robin to ask a few questions about installing barns and whatnot, but instead I just went to Cindersap and wandered around until I could calm down enough to face anyone again. 

In the moment, assaulting a bootlicking Joja cog with some coffee and sass felt so freeing. Afterwards… I can’t help but think, why did I do that? I’ve never really snapped at anyone before, and the first time I do it’s a total stranger? Even if he is a dick, and even if maybe he did deserve it for whatever reason, I still can’t help but feel guilty.

Don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to face Morris again. I guess I won’t be visiting Sam there anymore.

As I pad through the crunchy fallen leaves, sniffling up a storm between sips of coffee due to the emotions and chilly air, I just try to focus on what’s ahead in an attempt to relax a bit. 

Like, Spirit’s Eve is gonna be a blast. I’ve got that going for me at least. I’ll have a chance to meet that shadow person Magnus is friends with too. I absentmindedly gain a little pep in my step as I remember that Seb’s and Magnus’ birthday are both in the coming months. I wonder if they’ll want to do anything special. 

I check my phone and see a wall of texts from Sam:

Sam > HEY. I snuck out for a bathroom break bc omg Sam > u were so real for that Sam > like holy crud. I’ve always wanted to give morris even a *little* bit of shit and u just did it ur first time meeting the guy

There are a few more messages, all exclaiming about how awesome he thinks I am. It’s just as endearing as it is embarrassing.

I quickly reply to lie and say it wasn’t a big deal and that it’s whatever and that I’m fine, not-lie to promise him we’ll hang out for real soon, and apologize for his lack of a coffee. I then decide to go to Magnus’ a bit early. Maybe he and Seb can distract my nerves, and if not I can at least fill them in on what happened.

I begin nearing Tony Remington Trash Bear. Haven’t seen this fella in ages. He notices me and sniffs in my direction while chewing today’s dish. Looks like a stuffed pumpkin… where does he get these things?

I wave at him, and wonder — now knowing he’s an elemental — if he can communicate with me. 

As far as I can tell, though, there’s not a single thought besides his next meal behind those eyes. Good for him, if true!

I slow down and try to speak to him, tentatively holding out my cup. “Uh… I don’t know if you understand me, but d-do you want some coffee?” He glimpses at the cup and I add, “I’ve had, like, half, and it’s cold now, but…” followed by a very meek shrug. 

Tony sniffs a little louder and turns away. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Guess he doesn’t like coffee.

I take a few more steps. He looks at me again. I stop again, and stare back for a moment before waving. 

He waves back oh my fucking god before turning back to his food.

Yoba, Spirits, whoever, what ever, please let this be a sign that today can turn up from here.

My pace becomes brisk as I try to make it to Magnus’ tower faster. I’ve gotta tell him and Seb that there’s a slim chance I actually can communicate with animals, even if they can’t communicate back in a way I can understand. 

I wonder if I can learn that. Like, animal-speaking potions or spells have to be a real thing, no?

And, like, with Cannoli, I assumed he could roughly get the gist of whatever I say because out bond. What if I’ve actually been talking to him in a way he can comprehend for months now?

…What if I can, like, translate frogs for Seb someday? 

Oh. 

Oh my fuck—

I feel giddy at the thought and do a little shimmy to work out my energy. I know if I start jogging in lieu that I’ll probably just trip on a fallen branch or acorn or something — the ground is too covered in leaves for me to see what’s beneath them, save for a few long weeds.

I make it to the tower quicker than I’d anticipated. Outside the door I stomp some mud off my boots, and while stepping in, I hear hushed speaking from the main room. I don’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt if something is important going on. Quietly so as to not disturb them, I remove my coat and shoes and pad through the doorway, sipping my sweet drink.

I stop in my tracks and nearly choke on the coffee at the view before me:

Magnus and Seb are facing each other, their bodies parallel to the side walls and nearest the far end of the cauldron. I can see some of Seb’s face and all of Magnus’. 

Seb got his ears pierced! The red studs — I guess they were safe to use, after all — are just barely visible from my view, resting above his gauges. Not sure about the other ear, but he has crossed industrials on this one as well now. 

Now, I can’t tell if his ears are pink from swelling or from blush, but it could be both, given how closely Magnus is observing him. Magnus’ hand is tilting Seb’s face up, and he’s heavily inspecting his piercings with a slight flush on his own cheeks, as well as rosy eyes. Only god knows if it’s because of the contact he’s engaging in, or because of how much cooler Seb looks with his new jewelry.

As Magnus tilts Seb the other way, I’m at first ready to assume that Seb did get a few piercings on his other ear too, until I see Magnus practically cupping the younger man’s face. His lips are slightly curled upward and moving but I can barely hear a word he’s saying. The only sound that registers in my ears is the smooth, bassy reverberation of his baritone voice. A breathy laugh comes from Seb in response. 

My heart stutters at the thought that they’re, like, gonna fucking kiss or something, until Magnus drop’s his hands, crossing them against his ribs. It’s only as Seb mimics the motion that I notice they’re both wearing black sweaters, both with their sleeves rolled to their elbows. 

A Sebastian cosplay convention.

SebbyCon… SebCon? SebastiCon???

No. Shut up.

I make my presence a little more known as I clear my throat and approach my partners, unable to contain the shit-eating grin plastered on my face. Magnus looks over and smiles wide at my presence, seemingly oblivious to how ~scandalous~ that interaction appeared. Seb turns to do the same, more focused on giving me his own silly, smug look.

Whoa. On the ear opposite from the one I had a slight view of, Seb has a triple helix now, as well as a fucking nose piercing, all alongside his red lobe piercing. I can’t hide how frickin’ stoked I am for these, god he pulls it all off so well!

Ignoring their hellos, I scurry closer, my eyes and smile wide as I place my cup on the counter nearby to take Seb’s face in my hands, basically doing the same thing Magnus just did. 

“Holy shit, dude!”

“You like ‘em?” he laughs.

I reposition Seb so he’s got no choice but to look directly at me. “I feel feral.”

“Oh my,” Magnus laughs while he observes us.

Still holding Seb’s face, I turn to look at and giggle with the elemental. 

Seb brings my attention back by placing a hand on mine and using the other to draw my face to his, dipping down for a quick smooch amidst his smiling. “You’re here early. I just showed up a few minutes ago.”

I nod, pressing my forehead to Seb’s chest and wrapping my arms around him. As he hugs back, I explain, “Rough day.”

Drawing nearer to place a hand against my spine, right above Seb’s hands, Magnus asks, “Did your plans to visit Samson fall through?”

I chuckle, muttering quietly about how formal and old he sounds, and give Seb an extra little squeeze before turning to hug Magnus. “No, I saw him,” I mutter as his arms envelop me. “I, uh,” I press my cheek to Magnus and to get a better view of Seb, “I poured coffee on his boss.”

“What?!” Magnus says, his voice sounding awfully incredulous, albeit amused. The shock is deserved, to be fair. Again. Never really done something like that.

Seb, as I had hoped and predicted, looks so goddamn proud of me. “Deliberately?” I nod. “Holy shit, you badass!”

“Y’know,” I observe, “people keep saying that, but I cried about it the second I stepped out of the store.”

Magnus’ hug tightens so I turn back to him, nuzzling my face into his torso as Seb asks, “Why’d you do it?”

“He was being a dick to Sam,” it’s hard to talk like this so I release myself, standing off to the side to form a little triangle between the three of us, “aaand he scolded me for having my own lil’ treat in the store with me.” I fidget my sleeves while nodding over to the coffee cup on the counter. “That was supposed to be for Sam, I was just holding it for him until Morris left, but…” I shrug.

“Arsehole...”

“Oh yeah,” Seb agrees with Magnus, “the dude sucks. I never really see Sam on the clock anymore just to avoid him.”

“We’ve gotta get him out of there,” I mutter, making my way back to the coffee. I chug the rest before tossing it in the bin nearby. 

In the meantime, Seb counters, “Dude’s stuck. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Bummer…”

“Mm,” Magnus simply hums. He barely knows who Sam is, this is probably uncomfy for him.

I meet the taller man’s eyes. “Shrine?”

“Of course.” 

Magnus and I start making our way across the room, but I stop when I notice that Seb isn’t following. I turn around and notice that he already has a book in hand. “You coming?”

“Nah,” he responds, seeming to search for a certain page in particular. “I’ll be fucking with some potions while you do that.”

“Boooo,” I pout. He tosses up a middle finger with a playful glare, and I throw the gesture right back. “If I don’t, like, die, I guess I’ll see you when I’m not a human anymore,” I add on.

“You better not die on me now.”

“No promises!” I announce as I make my way over to Magnus, who’s patiently waiting by the doorway.

His nose scrunches and brows furrow while he grins, as though he’s holding back a laugh, but I don’t mind the scrutiny; I’m too busy admiring the way his crow’s feet deepen, complementing the sparkle in his burgundy eyes.

Maybe it’s the spirits doing their thing again, but I can’t help but notice how happy and full of love I feel with Magnus and Seb around… how happy they seem with me, and even each other.  

Not to be a huge sap or anything, but life is so fucking beautiful, sometimes. 

“You won’t die, my heart,” he reassures me, breaking me from my train of thought.

As we make our way downstairs I ask half-jokingly, freeing myself from my stupor, “So I’ll just be horribly mangled if I don’t do things right?”

“Well…”

I look at Magnus. He’s chewing the inside of his cheek and avoiding my gaze.

Sighing, I nod. “Good to know.”

“You’re an incredible sorceress, dear. You’ll likely be just fine.”

“If I don’t fuck up, sure.” 

“It’ll be alright, I can almost guarantee it.” As we near the shrine, Magnus turns to me and walks backwards for a few steps, “Besides, just think of the results!” 

I experience a fucking war flashback as I remember him having a similar outlook on that potion he made me when we were in our early days of knowing each other. The one that had me keeled over in pain on the ground within seconds. 

“This feels familiar…” I mumble, hoping that the scene is projecting into his mind. Based on his lack of a response as he sifts through a tome, I’m assuming it didn’t work. 

When his attention is back on me, he nears my side, giving me a run-down as he magically highlights certain parts of the page he has open. I cozy myself into his side, nodding along while I try to keep up. Without halting, he wraps his corresponding arm around me, leaning into my touch.

He really is a wonderful teacher, but sometimes he goes so quickly. I get that it’s just the excitement fueling his speed though. More often than not he bears in mind that, although I fucking rock at this, apparently, it’s still kinda new to me.

After asking him to reiterate a few things — including what types of beings I can become with this thing, none of which include things with horns or tails, god damnit! — before I memorize the few lines of spell I’m to perform and step over to the center of the emblem on the floor.

Before I begin, I ask, “Wait, when you use this you like… hover, yeah?” Magnus nods. “Is it okay that I can’t do that? Do you think it’ll effect things?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You’ll be fine on your feet. Or your butt, or knees, or whatever you prefer, really.”

“Alright,” I sit on the ground, crossing my legs and resting my antsy hands against my thighs. “Here goes nothing.”

I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable reciting incantations in front of people, so I whisper it to myself, as I hear Magnus crossing the room — I assume to sit down and read or something, similarly to how I did during his transformation all that time ago — before patiently waiting for the process to take effect. 

Once I get the ball rolling, everything starts to feel weird. I feel tingly, mana exuding from every pore of my body. I keep my eyes shut so as to concentrate on the image of what I want to become more effectively, but can still see the faint illumination of an arcane light show through my closed lids. 

I’m not sure how much time passes like this. I wind up in sort of a trance-like state at some point; somewhere between being incredibly conscious of the weird sensations coursing through me, and oblivious to the fact that I even exist in my own body. It’s only whenever I stop feeling anything beyond the floor below my ass and my hands on my thighs that I realize the process must be done. 

I open my eyes slowly. They widen as I notice first the change in my clothes, then in skin color. It all looks eerily similar to what I’d racked my brain with, and I guess that’s the point, but it still startles me a bit.

I turn my palms up and around, admiring the dusty pink tint of my skin, and the way it almost shimmers with an otherworldly pearlescence under the dim glow of the basement’s lighting.

I take in the deep obsidian of my new pants — made of something soft and silky, with a high and cinched waist to counter the bagginess everywhere else — as I extend a leg outward, tracing the intricate details of the silver embroidery that climb the outer hems.

My top is also very loose, but tucked into the corset-like belt of my bottoms. It’s black; has a soft, sort of cottony in feel; and it’s void of any detail, aside from the wavy edges of its three-quarter sleeves. 

I reach my hands to my ears, which are now slightly longer and pointy, then slide my digits through my hair, which feels softer than ever. It’s thick, pin-straight, and long, reaching down to my lower back. I bring a section of it over my shoulder, observing the silvery gray it’s become.

My same earrings are in, at least from what I can feel. Similarly, my necklace from Welwick and ring from Magnus are safely on my person.

I didn’t expect the transformation to be this intense — I thought it would just change my colors around a bit, like how it did with Magnus. The clothes were wanted of course, but I didn’t think I could actually change them too. Was just feeling more hopeful about that than anything.

Damn.

I finally look up and to my left in search of Magnus. He’s sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other and a tome abandoned next to his lap while he awe-struckedly rakes his eyes up and down my new form, leaning up from his relaxed position.

I shoot him a big grin and his eyes widen a bit, the faint smile he had prior not leaving his face. 

“The fangs were a lovely touch,” he quietly compliments.

Fangs?! “I didn’t even know I did those.” My gaze shifts to nothing in particular while I snarl a bit, tapping my tongue to my teeth. They’re situated like vampire fangs, which is lucky, considering I’m not sure I’d be safe if they’d filled my mouth. These babies are sharp.

I bring my attention back to my partner as he stands, and I meet him halfway. Still the same height as before, which is good. Won’t draw suspicion from anyone who lives around here. 

“Is it normal for the shrine to take creative liberties like that sometimes?”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “This seems to happen more with a user who lacks experience — but if it chooses to trust you, it’ll never be an unwelcome transformation.”

I look back at the thing, shrug, and turn back.

“You’re incredible, (y/n),” Magnus grins, tilting my face up by the chin. “Did you mean to do this with your sclera as well?”

Oh hell yeah, it worked! 

I answer triumphantly, “Damn right, I did.” It makes him giggle. Makes me giggle in turn. “What color are they now?” Did it work how I wanted it to?

Looking more at my eyes than into them, he mutters, “They match your trousers quite nicely,” Fuck yes, “and your irises are lavender.” Not what I was going for, but I’ll take it! “I must say, it’s strange to see you this way, but you’re ethereal nonetheless.”

“Think it’s too much for when I go to the above-ground event?”

He tilts his head and chews the inside of his cheek while he studies me, before ultimately shaking his head. “It simply looks like you’ve a knack for makeup.”

I begin playing with and staring at my new hair again. “Thank god, this is fucking sick.” I look back up at Magnus, fingers still fiddling with my tresses. I purse my lips, swaying a little as I shyly start,  “Do I have to change back to—“

“Yes.”

“Fuck!”

He laughs, holding out a hand for me to take. “I assume you want to present your new form to Sebastian, yes?”

“Hell yeah, let’s go.”

I grab his hand and we make our way out of the room. Gazing at our inhuman skin tones locked together, I begin to feel a little self conscious. I’m probably overthinking, but I can’t stop the feeling from gnawing at me. 

“Uh…” I start, suddenly feeling kinda shy.

Magnus slows down a bit, seeming to sense my worries. That, or he read them already, but he hasn’t said anything so I can only assume he’s trying not to. 

“Do you… ever wish that I was an elemental too?” 

He slows us to a halt and I shift my vision to meet his own. The wizard looks as calm as ever, if not just a little more concerned than usual. “Of course not, my heart,” he turns to face me. “In fact, if you were one, the spirits may have never fated us together in the first place.”

That’s right, he did mention the whole soulmates thing being in favor of an elemental and human pairing. 

I nod, accepting the answer. I still feel a little weird knowing that maybe I’m more (or less, maybe?) attractive this way, but it’s not like I’m a whole new body shape or anything, so I try not to think much of it. There’s no point to it, this is only for special occasions, after all. 

“I love you,” he tacks on cheerily, as if to remind me.

Fucking dork.

“I love you too. Sorry.”

Magnus huffs out a laugh. “Why are you apologizing?!” 

“I dunno!” I join his chuckles, shaking my head. Never claimed that I’m not a dork too. “Just feels childish to ask you stuff like that, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“It’s only natural such an immense change in your appearance would cause some unease.”

“I guess…” 

He does have a point. It’s almost the same feeling as when you don’t wear as much makeup as usual, and someone comments on how sick and tired you look, regardless of your wellbeing; or when you gain or lose a noticeable amount of weight, and people make comments on how much “livelier” or “happier” or “better” you look, regardless of how good the change actually was for your health… 

Except I’m doing it to myself instead, like a dummy. 

And I haven’t even seen myself yet.

Magnus did nothing to indicate if he likes this change more or less than my original appearance. I’m sure Seb won’t either. He’ll probably just be excited to have a temporary elf girlfriend.

They both love me as I am.

I’ve gotta chill.

Ugh.

Okay. I’m good, I think. Enough spiraling.

I look up at Magnus, who’s patiently awaiting my next move. I wonder if he heard me get lost in my head for a moment there. If he did, he doesn’t say anything about it. I offer a soft smile which he reciprocates before giving my hand a squeeze. 

“Are you alright, my heart?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “let’s go.”

When Magnus and I arrive upstairs, we’re hit with a strong smell of marijuana. Seb rarely smokes here. Magnus banned cigarettes — dude hates the smell — but weed is fair game, so Seb brings it out sometimes if he’s extra stressed. Not often, but it does happen.

Must be going through it right now.

Rounding the corner, I see Seb leaning with his palms flat on the nearest countertop, with a tome opened in front of him. Around him are haphazardly placed vials and ingredients. A blunt is lazily hanging from his mouth, and the cauldron is draining behind him, as he mutters the words he reads under his breath with nearly closed lips. 

“You good?” 

Startled, Seb looks up. His eyes widen at my new appearance and the blunt falls from his mouth. He catches it before it can land anywhere though.

“Oof,” I add casually, “Nice save.”

“Nice, uh…” 

He pauses to stare for a moment, leaving the blunt hanging between two fingers like a cigarette. I gnaw my bottom lip and shift around on my feet. His intense scrutiny is flustering me.

“Hah.” Seb rubs his eyes with the digits of his free hand, then keeps them shut with his fingertips against his lids as he continues, “Can’t think of anything witty for a response.” 

His cheeks are obstructed by his large hand, but the tips of his ears are a little pink. I glimpse up at Magnus, who has a faint smile on his lips as he watches Seb’s struggle.

“I didn’t expect this, holy fuck,” the emo speaks up.

“Think it’s too much?” I shyly murmur, using my hair as a fidget again.

“God, no.” He looks up at Magnus. Then at me. Then at Magnus again, and back to me, before putting his attention back onto the book. Through a puff of smoke he mumbles, “I’ve never felt so lame in my life.”

Magnus is quick to try to halt Seb’s negative self-talk with a practical solution. “You’re more than welcome to give the shrine a whirl once you’re ready.”

“Yoba knows how long that’ll take.” Sebastian flicks the page below him. “Can’t even follow the directions laid out in front of me without messing something up.”

I nod towards Seb’s blunt, eyeing it as he puts it back between his lips. “Is that not helping as much as you wanted?” I wonder.

Seb sighs, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s helping plenty. I was ready to tear my fucking hair out before.”

“Is there anything I can assist with?” Magnus interjects.

Another head shake from Seb. “No, I wanna do this on my own.”

“At least allow me to speed this up for you,” the older wizard states more than he asks, heading to the cauldron. 

Seb turns back and nods. “Thanks, dude.” I catch how his eyes rake up and down Magnus’ body before he turns back to me and does the same. “God,” he whispers, his lashes fluttering as he subtly rolls his eyes back. Then, he rummages in the nearby cabinets for some more stuff. 

I snort. “Stressed ‘god,’ or…?” I trail off quietly.

Not sure how keen he is on Magnus knowing what gets him going, regardless of how sexually open we’ve been in conversation.

Seb tilts his head up and deadpans me. I waggle my eyebrows. He gets the gist. He nods.

“Both, then?” I confirm.

He sighs, producing a mortar and pestle. Then, he responds while he places some leaves into the thing and begins grinding ‘em down.

Seb had first seen magic as something spooky and surreal. Nothing more than a new and weird thing that fuzzied up the lines between the fiction he took comfort in, and the burdens of reality. It was a completely understandable take for him to have felt that way, and I had been surprised that he was so chill about introducing it back into his life through me! 

That said, I thought he’d still keep it to a minimum. 

But!!!

Ever since our visit to Magnus a few weeks ago — again, a visit that held the intention of Seb merely becoming a little reacquainted with the arcane, as we’d both expected him to keep his involvement small — learning magic has morphed into a bit of a passion project for him. A means to become as badass as his magic-wielding OCs and shit. It’s rad as hell. Kinda hot too. I dunno what it is about magic, but it does things to me, dude.

When Seb isn’t programming, and we aren’t spending time alone together, he’s now enthusiastically re-familiarizing himself with his rusty arcane skill set as well as indulging in some new knowledge. And likewise, when I’m not farming, taking care of Cannoli, or spending time with either of my partners alone, I’m honing my rapidly-increasing skills as a mage.

The necklace Welwick gave me has been working wonders for my abilities. Like, I now have that sixth-sense Magnus vaguely talks about from time-to-time, for when something magical is nearby. That could just be a result of my growth as a mage in general, but I think it’s more fun to imagine this little trinket siphoning a bunch of cool shit into me.

Also, clairvoyance doesn’t come to me so randomly anymore, aside from the occasional flash of something in my head! It’s getting a bit easier to tell the difference between dreams and a distant reality during my sleep, too. Similarly to… well, fucking everything else related to magic, I guess, it’s sort of a gut-feeling above all else.

This nifty little thing has also allowed me to practice my psychicism in the way that Magnus always had to resort to. For him to predict the future, he must conduct a spell and perform a weird ritual of sorts. He saves it for when things feel “off,” like when I moved to Pelican town… and for when he gets eager, and wants to know something right then and there. Like when he predicted when I’d be coming over to drink that nasty-ass potion that all but confirmed I’m a mage.

The process requires copious amounts of mana – another reason why he so rarely does it. But because of the extra help from my necklace, as well as my seemingly natural talent as an oracle that I’m assuming Grandpa passed down to me in some way, it doesn’t drain me nearly as much as other spellcasters of my skill level. Even Magnus and Camilla seem to get a bit more nauseated by the process than I do.

Throughout all this, all things romantic have been settling in too; things have gotten much more cozy. At the start of this journey in a polycule of sorts, the concept of openly loving two people in the same room was nothing short of intimidating. Now, it’s as natural as breathing. And while I wouldn’t say it seems like Seb and Magnus are becoming intimate with one another, they’ve definitely been spending more time alone, which makes me happy. Reassures me a bit as well. It’s a nice reminder that I’m not some sort of… I dunno. A selfish hussy. Or something. This concept still feels novel to me in some ways.

Both of my lovers are vague about what happens during their one-on-one meetings. Can’t tell if something’s going on, or if they just know the concept intrigues me, and they agreed to fuck with me a bit. Y’know, get my imagination going, for funsies. I mean, Seb’s crush on the older wizard is still as strong as ever, so I’m secretly hoping that they’re preparing to do some canoodling of their own.

I wish I knew what was going on in those pretty heads of theirs… seems as though mind-reading just isn’t gonna be a thing for me.

Whatever. I’m not bitter.

(Yes I am.)

Speaking of canoodling – I’m headed to Magnus’ place in a few minutes. It’ll be the first time we’ve been alone together in our past few meetings, since Seb can’t make it until later. The poor, emo cave goblin was up working until early this morning. Magnus apparently wants to take me somewhere new today, so it kinda works out, I guess!

After my usual morning routine of farming (the pumpkins feel like they’re taking forever to grow in, but they’re almost there!) and eating, I quickly showered, dried my hair, tossed on some light makeup, and dressed myself. I went for an almost-ankle length, dark and rusty orange, pleated skirt; a cozy and thick, cream-colored, mock neck sweater; and a big, olive-green ribbon to thread around my half-up hairdo. It’s getting to the point in autumn where it basically feels like winter, so I should be safe from sweating too much in all this. 

Once I’ve grabbed my satchel and a jacket to complete the look, I make my way outside. The first thing I do upon exiting the building is remember that I haven’t checked the mail yet. I probably should, just in case Magnus or Lewis have anything important for me… ugh. 

Unable to resist, I go out of my way a bit first, stomping on some leaves that have blown over from all the trees surrounding my land. Cannoli, who has been outside most of the morning, runs over to join in. I scoop him up with an evil chuckle while he’s distracted. 

“Gotcha, punk.”

He meows at me, seemingly pissed, but then purrs after I pat a few smooches onto his head. I hold the little fella in both arms as I open my mailbox with outstretched fingertips. I grab its contents, nudge it shut with my elbow, and sit on the stoop to read what I’ve gotten, with Cannoli staying put in my lap.

“One from Lewis…” I rip it open. “S’just about Spirit’s Eve, nothing major,” I mumble to myself as I shuffle through the envelopes. “Some Joja shit… gross.” I scoff and tear that one in half as Cannoli abandons me, giving me some more space to work with. 

The next letter is in a bright blue envelope with deep purple stars outlining it, each twinkling as though electrically or magically lit. I would normally assume based on the fancy casing that this is from Magnus, but it isn’t labeled, which tells me otherwise. I don’t really sense anything, y’know, magicky about it either. Weird. 

I stand up and go inside, tossing the Joja ads in the trash and before plopping the rest of my mail onto the table. I sit down and cautiously open the blue one, not wanting to damage the pretty stationary too much. Now that it’s in my hand on its own, I can feel that there’s something other than writing inside of it.

The paper itself is blue, this one lighter and more vivid than the envelope. The ink is a deep indigo and the words look like they were written with a sparkly gel pen. And beneath it all is a tiny, gold-painted walnut, still in its shell.

That doesn’t seem very safe to eat. I toss it across the room to the small waste bin between my bedside table and the door, hoping I make the shot. It lands in with a satisfying plink. 

Alex Mullner could never ball like this. He’d weep – no, he’d propose – had he seen such skill!

…Gross. I don’t want that. 

After shimmying that thought away, I turn back to the azure note. It reads:

“We can do great things, you and I.

Forage a rainbow shell and leave it in the train station Lost and Found box if you’re interested. I’ll make it worth your while.

I’m counting on you, kid.”

It’s not even signed by anyone… This is ominous as hell. Part of me wants to ignore it, but I’m also kinda scared not to, y’know? What if something bad happens if I don’t comply or find a way to respond? I mean, this person knows where I live, and is likely keeping things anonymous for a reason. 

Or… it could be some sorta creepy jape by Sam or something, and I’m overthinking as per usual.

I’ll think about that more later… for now, I just wanna get to my purple-haired boyfriend.

I shuffle through the rest of the mail once more to double check that nothing is too urgent before heading back outside.

_______________

“Oy,” I call out as I enter Magnus’ tower, immediately turning my gaze toward the coat rack instead of looking for him. “Where—“ As I adjust my line of sight, I find Magnus just a few feet away, a cheeky glare on his face directed towards me as he waters his houseplants. “Oh.” I blush, embarrassed by how annoying my loud intrusion was. “Hi.”

Magnus doesn’t seem to mind. He chuckles, places down his watering can, and strides over to greet me. “Good morning, my heart.” 

That pet name never fails to get me all tingly, oh my goodness. 

Before I can tippy-toe to indicate that I wanna kiss him, he’s already bending down to my level and scooping my face into his hands. I match the action, cupping his rosy cheeks. Unexpectedly, Magnus kisses me hard, causing me to stumble back against the door. 

“Mmf!” I squeak into the kiss before meeting his intensity. Makes him smile. 

He doesn’t show any signs of wanting to stop, our teeth tapping together a bit as he continues to intertwine our lips and tongues while we find a compatible rhythm. Releasing a palm from my cheek, Magnus grips the door frame behind me before dragging his opposing palm further from my face, weaving his fingers in the hair near my nape. The action prompts a dreamy hum from me. 

Yoba. I want him. 

As the wizard begins to kiss down my jaw and onto what little neck I have showing, I breathily murmur, “What about those plans you had for us?”

“You needn’t worry about that,” he mumbles against my earlobe, taking his hand away from my hair to lower the collar of my sweater. “We have plenty of time.”

He eagerly dives back down, leaving light kisses and love bites on my neck. My hands weave into his amethyst tresses as I giggle. The sound comes out airy; in contrast, a syrupy laugh escapes Magnus and vibrates against my skin.

“Mag–” A harder suck that’ll definitely leave a darker mark just below my jaw cuts me off. “Ah~” 

Smirking against my skin, Magnus prompts, “Go on.” 

God, he sounds so smug. It’s so sexy. I subtly shake my head and roll my eyes, a smile never leaving my face. “Nevermind,” I whisper, bringing his mouth back to mine. 

Magnus lifts me up in one swift motion as he accepts my affection, carrying me away from the entrance bridal-style. I open one of my eyes to take a peek at where we’re going. As I do so, he pulls away to watch his step while we descend to the basement.

“What’re we doing down here?” I ask, knowing this could go one of two ways:

Either Magnus is teasing the shit out of me, and he’s taking me to his hall of portals so we can go… wherever; or, he simply decided he wanted to get frisky somewhere other than his bedroom.

“You’re a smart girl,” he answers as he nudges the door open with his foot. His irises are like rubies. “I’m sure you’ve pieced it together already.”

“Maybe I just want some confirmation.”

“Maybe you need to practice patience, my dear,” Magnus teases back.

“Maybe I’m just not a patient person, my dear.” Hm… feels weird to call him something other than Magnus or wizard. I don’t hate it, though.

I drown the tinglies in my tummy by hoisting myself a bit higher with the help of Magnus’ sturdy shoulders, leaving a few open-mouthed kisses on his neck. The action prompts goosebumps across his skin. 

“Heheh–” I begin to evilly laugh at his reaction, but Magnus releases me from his grip, scaring the everliving shit out of me. “Ack!” He catches me mid-air using magic, allowing me to settle myself down without getting hurt. I glare at him the entire time, pretending my heart isn’t beating a bajillion times per minute. “That wasn’t nice,” I chirp with my brows furrowed, barely above a whisper. 

It’s Magnus’ turn for a menacing chuckle as he leads me to the couch where I usually do my studies; the one closest to the western wall of the room.

“I thought you would enjoy the thrill.”

“Clearly you know nothing about me, wiz.” 

Magnus’ eyes — which had shifted to their natural maroon again by the end of our short journey — are crimson once more. As we slow to a halt in front of the sofa, the absolute skyscraper of a man cages me in, his hands clutching the purple back piece of the furniture and forcing me to stumble into a sitting position. Wide-eyed and with heat creeping between my thighs, I lean back and look up at my partner. 

Then, a sadistic, almost lazy grin creeps across his features while he leans down, moving his hands to grip my sides once his previous stance probably grew uncomfy. He’s almost entirely crouching to level with me. 

“I know more than you realize,” he points out. Ominous.

I fidget with my long sleeves as Magnus’ lips draw closer to my ear, his breath on my neck and face sending a shiver down my spine. 

His hands slide lower while he kisses just below my earlobe, before continuing, “How many people out there, at this very moment, can say they know precisely what makes you squirm?” His voice is low and gravelly, and he punctuates his sentence by squeezing my hips hard, pulling a sigh from me. Proving his point with ease.

This prick actually waits a moment for me to answer his question, his head still hovering closely next to mine. “Well?” 

It takes me a sec to register any form of language until I blink out of my horny fog and respond, “I mean… not many, I guess.” My brain has kinda just blocked out any sexual partners I had prior to Seb and Magnus, given none of them could hold a candle to these men.

The elemental grows quieter as he proceeds, “Alright. And how many can claim they’ve known you far prior to your present lifetime?” His hands drag off my hips, now resting on the red velvet cushions. 

The cockiness, greediness, and complete possessiveness of his follow-up makes me shudder. Has me choking back embarrassing sounds and stuff. Makes it hard to speak.

“J-just you.” 

“Veeery good.” Yoba, so much praise… my poor kinky heart can’t take this. “In that case–” Magnus brings his face to my view, and manually tilts my head by the chin. After drawing closer, he whispers against my quivering lips, “I’d say on the basis of those two factors alone that I know you better than most, wouldn’t you agree?”

I inhale shakily. He grins knowingly. “Yes…” I could barely hear my own voice. It’s as if Magnus has me under a spell… but he doesn’t this time. He’s just that captivating.

Mirroring my volume – fucking tease – he lilts, “Good girl.” Then, he pulls away, leaving me yearning for more kisses.

Fuck.

Standing upright, he puts out his palm for me to take. My head feels swimmy as I oblige without question, and he replaces my spot, urging me to try to straddle him. Doesn’t work. Skirt’s too long.

“Um… hold on…” 

I get up from the half-kneeling position I was in and simply remove the skirt altogether. Magnus chuckles as I struggle to find more words, feeling the hot redness of my cheeks spread down my neck. Why do I feel so shy right now? 

Beaming with his brows raised, he claims, “How bold of you.”

“What else was I gonna do?” I quip. It came out meeker than I’d wanted it to, but Magnus pays no mind to that. 

He shrugs, taking both my hands in his as I settle back onto his lap. His erection is apparent now that I’m sitting on it. Mmmmm. 

“I merely assumed you would roll up the fabric.” 

I close my eyes and lean forward further to rest in defeat against his silk, navy button-down, before copying his shrug. He has a good point. 

Magnus, sensing my unease, exhales jovially through his nose, before reassuring me, “Worry not, dear.” After unweaving our fingers, he wraps his arms around my waist. “Your haste is more than welcome.”

I grip the fabric of his shirt in both fists and groan into it. “T’still embarrassing though…” I complain, my voice muffled by the fabric.

Magnus moves his hands, now cupping my ass in each one. “Let me shift your mind away from that, then,” he purrs above my ear. 

I tilt my head so that my face isn’t being consumed by his chest anymore. “How the fuck are you so smooth?”

“I don’t necessarily mean to be.”

It makes sense, I guess. He’s been around for a thousand – or two, or whatever it is – years. He’s had more than enough practice. “Of course not…” 

I sigh. Then, I slip just under his face, leaving featherlight pecks along his jawline. He giggles a bit. “That tickles…”

“Yeah?” 

My instinctive laughter comes out menacing and gremlin-like. I attack him with more little kisses, paired with ten wiggly fingers against his sides. And oh boy, I’ve never heard such high pitched or loud noises come from this man.

“C-cease yourself!” 

“Never!” I proclaim, nearly cackling at this point. I’ve never seen him laugh this hard, and god, it’s fucking adorable. 

I keep myself planted atop him and do my best to dodge his swats towards me as he lays himself down, keeling over. Magnus lets out a snort that puts down my guard for a moment, and before I know it, he’s finally grappling my wrists, taking claim of them on either side of his face. The action pulls me down, bumping my forehead into his.

Magnus winces while I let out a quick and half-assed “Ouch!” before laughing a little more. I rest my face in the crevice between his head and our arms to recuperate. I gotta breathe oh my god and my abs hurt. 

When I come back up, Magnus is giving me sort of a funny look. Like, he’s still blushing (eyes included) and smiling, but I feel like I’ve never seen this exact expression before. 

“What?”

His lips curl up further before shaking his head slightly and answering, “I… your laughter is so beautiful.” My eyes widen a little, as does my smile. “I love you so much. Come here.” 

As the words leave his mouth and before I have a chance to verbally return the sentiment, he’s removing his hold on my wrists and tugging me into a deep, slow, and much more passionate kiss than the almost-feral ones we shared upstairs. It still leaves my tummy fluttering and my heart racing just as hastily. 

Once we grow a little more heated, I find myself accidentally grinding against Magnus’ arousal a bit; and once Magnus realizes it as well, his hands find refuge on my butt again, aiding my movements.

Sucks how that weird potion I drank to become a mage made me more athletic and cardiovascularly healthy, but it didn’t actually fix any of my joint issues. Even just this gentle rocking with my legs spread out this wide is making my hips cramp up a bit.

“Sore?” My partner murmurs into the kiss.

“How’d you know?”

“T’was a gut feeling.”

“That sure is a fancy way of saying you were in my head again.”

“Damn.” He breaks, an amused huff escaping him. “I almost fooled you.”

I sit up and very lightly punch his chest a few times. Asserting my dominance, for sure. 

After a few hits, I glare down at him, palms pressed against his chest. Magnus glares up at me, thumbs tracing small circles against my sides. He scans my body as he gnaws his lower lip.

This is hot.

He eventually speaks up, his orbs red as can be. “Are you finished throwing your little tantrum?” His usually sweet tone was replaced by something still honeyed, but more gravelly and domineering.

That was hotter. Fuck.

I swallow thickly and nod, subconsciously stimming with one of the lower buttons on his top. “Yeah.” 

His eyes drink in my body again. “Perfect.” Next, Magnus tugs me by my hips, giving me a little lift to bypass his arms as he all but plants me on his fucking face.

“What are you–” He cuts me off with a bite to my inner thigh. A heady sigh leaves me. 

With his pupils blown wide, he suggests, “This is surely easier on your hips given how much less you need to stretch them, no?”

“I-I guess.” I hide the lower half of my face in some of my hair. I feel so vulnerable. In a good way, but still. I don’t think I’ve ever ridden someone’s face before. I voice this concern into his brain, too timid to say it out loud.

Magnus repositions our forms slightly, giving his neck more comfort as he lets his head lay down flat against the cushion, with a little room to spare between his scalp and the arm of the sofa. I peer back at his legs. His left is dangling off the opposite end of the couch and probably bumping into the bookshelf a bit, while the right is planted on the floor beneath us.

“Would you like to try?” The wizard finally asks as I bring my gaze back to his.

I take a sec to contemplate it. On one hand, I feel weird being so exposed. On the other… How is this really any different from being eaten out while I’m laying down? Some fingers of my left hand are twirling a soft strand of Magnus’ hair. Those on my right are still tangled in my own (h/c) tresses, which continue giving my mouth and chin some privacy. 

Despite the need to stim out my nerves, I still nod my answer to him.

After being given the OK, Magnus begins to softly kiss my inner thigh. In between, he orders, “If you want to stop, let me know.”

“‘Kay,” I smile. 

Gently, Magnus tugs my panties to the side and lowers me down. After a single, lingering kiss to my lower lips that’s already got my head feeling funny, he spreads me open and licks a gentle, pointed-tongued circle around my bud. I’m instantly turned to putty, it’s a little embarrassing actually. The small grip that I had on his hair tightens, and I rock slightly into Magnus’ proud hum, accidentally throwing him off-track. I shyly meet his view to apologize to him, but before I can say a word, he’s finding a better spot for his tongue. 

“Fuck,” I moan, my eyes fluttering shut. 

My fingers drop my hair and move to my mock-neck, using that to fidget instead. This feels so fucking good, but my anxieties over the positioning still haven’t died down yet. 

I abandon the clutch I had on the wizard’s hair and rest my hand on the arm of the couch behind his crown. With the way his nails are threatening to dig into the curves of my hips, I have just enough leverage to let him lick how he wants to while moving myself accordingly. 

The slight change in position startles him, I think — he telepathically checks in with me, “Are you doing alright?” 

“Yes, Magnus~” I verbally respond. The way he growls at my enthusiastic reply sends a palpable wave of excitement through me. 

With each swipe of Magnus’ tongue, I lose myself further. My hips grind with more confidence, and my sweater-filled hand starts drawing downward on its own, now leaving only my chin beneath my collar. I curse under my breath while he adds some more pressure, and let out a startlingly loud mewl as he repositions his left hand to nearly meet his lips, sliding two long digits inside of me. That can’t be comfortable for him by any means with the way his arm is contorting, but I’ll be lying if I try to claim that it doesn’t feel fucking incredible. 

“Holy shit,” I cry. 

He moans against my clit. It sends a vibration through me, and I moan as I lower myself a little more, pushing his fingers deeper inside of myself. Is this what people who are able to ride dick feel like?!  

“F-fuh–”

“Is it too much?” he nonverbally inquires.

“N-noh god, I love you, y-you’re perfect, Iloveyou.” Each word proves to be more of a struggle to get out as I feel myself beginning to peak. He chuckles beneath me, adding fuel to the fire. “God, Mag~”

I can’t physically move any faster – again, bad joints and all that jazz. He’s the captain now. There’s a subtle pounding in my ears, and I can’t tell if it’s my adrenaline, or blood flow, or whatever, or if it’s something else outside of myself entirely. I pay no mind to it, not caring what’s happening around me. Too fucked-out.

“So close,” I breathe. “Please, I–”

“Wait juuust a little longer, sweetheart.”

I whine in frustration. “W-why?” I ask, just barely above a whisper, looking down while complying by slowing myself to a halt. His eyes crinkle, indicating that he’s smiling, while continuing to lick my pussy and probe in and out of my cunt. 

He doesn’t give me an answer.

“Oh, wow.” 

Seb does?! 

Well, kinda.

I yelp, head bolting up and left towards the source. Standing near the entrance to this room is fucking Sebastian, his dark indigo eyes darker with want, and his grin just as shit-eating as ever. 

Magnus still hasn’t stopped. 

I look back and forth between Seb and Magnus a few times, my mind racing and chest heaving and throat dry as I can’t verbalize any of the confused thoughts that I’m having amidst what’s happening all around me.

Seb is slowly drawing closer to us. Magnus is working me even harder, as if he’s trying to pry my orgasm out of me now of all times. He can’t curl his fingers much from this position, but he can sure as hell fuck me with ‘em. I try to steady the slight bounce each thrust of his digits causes to no avail.

…Yoba above, did they fucking plan this?!

Magnus coaxes a moan out of me, but my eyes stay trained on Seb. His grin widens and a soft chuckle emits from him as he listens and watches in on the action. 

When Seb reaches the couch, he places a palm on the armrest before leaning forward to almost match my height. He then removes my hand from its hold on my sweater and takes my newly-exposed chin between his thumb and forefinger. In turn, I instinctively grasp his wrist, probably squeezing him a lil’ too hard while I try to prolong my pleasure as per Magnus’ orders.

“You said you were close, yeah?” Seb asks.

“Y-yeah,” It comes out whiney, and Magnus picks up his pace. “Fuck.” 

My eyes threaten to close, but I keep them locked into Seb’s. I don’t miss the way his view trails down to my tits, clearly a little enthralled by their slight jiggling underneath my sweater. My prior concern morphs into a breathy laugh. I look down to the wizard, and he’s still focused on my face. Reading my every reaction with those sparkly, red eyes. God. 

“Please Magnus, I—“

Seb’s grip on my chin strengthens, pulling my view back to meet his. “You wanna cum, yeah?”

“Yes, please, Seb~” Yoba, I sound so desperate. I don’t care anymore though.

“Be a dear and cum for him, then.” 

This is so absurd. 

Not in a bad way, by any means, but just… holy shit I wasn’t expecting this.

Near-immediately after Seb’s command, I clench around Magnus’ digits, grinding against his taste buds and urging him further inside of me. Probably smooshing his face a little bit with my thighs too. Sorry, dude.

Between his hasty pokes and the delicious alternation between licking and sucking, my high hits me like a fucking train. It makes me feel a bit lightheaded until Seb catches my lips with his own to ground me. 

After however many otherworldly seconds of whining against Seb’s tongue and probably suffocating poor Magnus, the feeling simmers away. Once he senses I’ve settled down a bit, Magnus repeats his earlier motion in the opposite direction — he softly repositions me away from his face and nearer to his lap, before wiping my excess wetness from his features.

Neither of them say anything. I look between the two of them, who are approvingly peering between each other and myself. 

When I find my voice again, I speak up. “So, like, what the fuck—” 

“Before you ask,” Seb starts, “this was mostly coincidental.”

I furrow my brows. “What?”

Magnus sits upright, and just when I’m about to shift some more to give him some room, he scoops me up and repositions himself so that his spine is against the back of the couch while my legs are draped across his lap. I cross my arms and lean my shoulder and head against his chest, waiting for more of an explanation. 

“He requested to borrow a book to assist him in falling asleep,” Magnus informs me.

Seb cuts in to add with a slight hand-raise, “Drank too much coffee overnight and figured my own books at home might just distract me too much.”

I nod subtly. “When did this happen?” I ask them both.

“When I got here,” Seb claims, “ready to just steal one anyway.” 

Seb and Magnus share a cheeky glare with one another. Seb’s is paired with a menacingly goofy smile. He then wraps around the front of the furniture so that he can sit next to Magnus and behind me. I crane my head so that I’m able to see him, albeit upside-down. 

Sebby continues on, while taking advantage of the angle of my throat to murmur against it. “But when I heard those pretty sounds of yours…” he trails off, planting an open-mouthed kiss against my goose-bumping skin. He knows I’ve gotten the gist of it by now.

This lil perv definitely asked Magnus outright if he could come down here to see me in action.

“I hope it hasn’t made you uncomfortable,” Magnus chimes in.

“No, I mean, it was surprising, but like…” I sigh, laying down, my upper body now splayed across Seb’s while my lower body remains on Magnus. I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes as I softly admit, “It was… god that was so cool.” 

Both of them chuckle, Magnus squeezing my thigh as Seb scruffs up my hair a bit. I do my best to flatten it back into place, then direct my attention towards the wizard, lazily pointing at him once a thought pops into my head.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

He cocks his head slightly. “What is good?” 

God, he’s trying so hard to be ~hip.~ He’s so cute. I do my best not to laugh at him.

“Are you straight?”

“I doubt it.” 

He seems to ponder the question further for a moment while I give Seb a sneaky thumbs up. As if to tell him, without a single word shared, “Maybe you have a chance with him too!” Seb rolls his eyes and nudges my hand away, a playful smirk on his face.

I draw my eyes back to Magnus once he continues, “I’ve predominantly had women as partners for as far back as I can recollect, but it’s not as though I’m opposed to relations with other genders.” I glimpse at Seb, unable to hide my mischievous grin. I could never be an actor. “Why do you ask?”

“Eh, just curious.” 

“That devilish smile you’re wearing tells me something else.” 

Damn, he saw right through me. Who woulda thunk it?

I completely dodge him.

“Don’t worry about it.” I pair the phrase with some finger guns.

“So,” Seb diverts the conversation, “would you mind if I just crash on a couch? That way I don’t have to worry about making the trip back here later.”

“Go right ahead,” Magnus smiles warmly at him. Then, he turns his attention to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I look down at my form. I’m still skirtless, and I’m probably fucking sopping given what just happened. Plus, there’s spit down there too now. Gross. 

“Uh. Lemme clean up real quick.” I shakily crawl off my partners and gather my skirt in my arms. “Should I meet you back down here, or..?”

Magnus shakes his head before answering verbally, “I’ll follow you in a moment.” 

“You got it.” I turn to Seb, scurrying over to give him a kiss. “See you later, nerd.”

“Yeah whatever.” Rolling his eyes and laughing, Seb pulls me back down with one finger hooked into my collar. After a soft peck, he says, “Love you. Have fun with the geezer.”

Magnus leers over at Seb. “Quiet, child.”