I would be a very eepy queen. This isn't even a reference to the Sleeping Beauty theme I am just a very eepy guy. Biar Valley is doomed.

Those are just MY interpretations though, also I haven't fully read Chapter 4 because full english translations haven't come out yet so some of my info here might be off oops

I know everyone's freaking out about the book 7 update (I am too) but I've been brainrotting about Yuu and Sebek duo shenanigans post Malleyuu marriage, put them in a random quotes generator and then doodled them really badly. Just!!! I really think there's so much potential for a really fun dynamic between these two in the instance of Malleyuu happening. Sebek's really loyal so once he gets over all those issues he has with humans imagine how protective he'd be over his human besties!! And one who's his beloved boss's spouse at that!! I imagine Knight!Sebek to be Consort!Yuu's most trusted confidant that they have a lot of banter with.

Also small hc that I didn't include in the designs bcs I got lazy: he actually has a lot of jewels and jewelry gifted to him from Maleficia and Malenora (dragons are very stingy and only ever share their hoards with the ppl they rlly rlly care about to express their affection!!). Only wears them on special occasions because he isn't too much of a jewelry guy.

The oldest scent in Pheta’s memory is green. Specifically, it is the bright, fresh green of a newly unfurled leaf. She likens it to the skin of an apple—tart, but not enough to make her eyes water. A morning scent, sunlit and beaded with dew. She has tried countless times to recreate it. It is a fool’s errand, for a memory so old is bound to be flawed. Even with Leyndell’s Royal Gardens at her disposal, the best she can hope for is a pale imitation. She thinks she catches a whiff of it as she grinds a pinch of Fulgurbloom. The yellow petals hiss and spark as they’re crushed against the pit of her mortar. Pheta closes her eyes and opens her mouth, analyzing the aroma. She manages to isolate the sharpness, but it is not what she is looking for. What stands out more than anything else is the smell of the soil that yielded the flower: red clay, redder blood, sparse rain. She sighs, expelling the scent from her senses, and continues to grind.

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