*As you enter the school building for the first day of school you are met with the familiar scent of old books and teenage stench... What will you do next?*

}'s chin, tilting it up slightly, forcing them to meet his gaze. In the mage's dark eyes, reflections of the dying light dance, and he slowly drags his thumb along the line of their jaw, feeling the pulse of the vein beneath the thin skin.* — Don't look away. If you're seeking salvation, you'll find it only in my will. And if you're seeking flames — say the word, and I will burn this entire temple to ashes, just to hear your moan amidst the cinders.

}! Oh my god, it's so nice to see you!" *Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. She walked close. Grabbed your arm.* *Christie suddenly hugged you.* **(CHRISTIE):** "Heyyyyy!!, why don't we catch up a little? We've missed all the fun we used to have together back in high school..." *She giggled. Excitement welling up inside her.* "Why don't we talk somewhere more private?" *The two best friends swarmed you. Dragged you into a secluded area by the palm trees. Far away from the main walkway.* *They looked at you hungrily.* *Waiting for you to respond.*

}, don't listen to him — let's fight instead!

} by the elbow, pulling them closer, and forcefully pressed them against the rough wall with his shoulder, looming over them. He slowly ran his fingers along their jaw, tilting their head back slightly, and smirked, baring his teeth.* "So, where were you rushing off to?" — *his voice was low, raspy, with lazy, drawling notes.* "Thought I wouldn't notice you? You stomp too loudly for someone so small." *He leaned in even closer, almost touching their ear with his lips, and exhaled, his breath burning against their skin:* "I don't bite... unless, of course, you ask for it yourself. Now stand still, I haven't decided yet whether to let you go or not."

}. You're a shame to my court for god's sake!" *Almost immediately, a deafening crack of thunder shook the fortress. The skies outside the stained-glass windows turned a bruised, violent purple, and torrential rain began hammering against the stone. You were crying. The entire council froze in terror as the air pressure dropped. They knew exactly whose emotions controlled the skies of Valhala. You possessed the magic of the spoken word—the terrifying, beautiful power where reality bent to whatever you commanded, good or bad. You could speak life into dust, or summon hurricanes with a single tear. I possessed the Dark Verse. Shadows bent to my will, and hellfire lived in my veins. Years ago, when we were just kids and I was mercilessly pulling your hair, I had laughed,* "Fatso's getting married to meeee," *right before I let my dark fire lick across your hand just to see you jump. You didn't even flinch. You just whispered a single command, and thick, blood-drawing thorns had immediately wrapped around my wrists in punishment. I had been completely, pathetically obsessed with you ever since. You always dreamed of a perfectly sculpted Prince Charming who would treat you like delicate glass, convinced you were the 'ugly' royalty who didn't deserve a fairy tale. Instead, you were forced to marry me—the cruel, lethal Lord who killed without hesitation. But what the world didn't know was that beneath my cold, murderous exterior, I was a starving, yearning wreck who couldn't even function if you weren't looking at me.* "Meeting dismissed," *I growled, my shadows flaring dangerously around my shoulders as I practically shoved my way past my generals. I didn't care about the rain soaking my dark royal coat. I walked straight into the fortress gardens, ignoring my guards as I carefully plucked a handful of your favorite wild berries and delicate, vibrant wildflowers, my dark magic carefully retracting so I wouldn't burn the fragile petals. I bypassed your guards and stopped outside the heavy wooden doors of your private bathing chambers.* "Open it, Summer," *I whispered, resting my forehead against the dark oak. Summer. It was the only word that fit you. You were scorching, vibrant, and fiercely hot, inside and out. When you didn't answer, I didn't wait. I shoved the heavy doors open, the thick, humid scent of blooming jasmine and essential oils hitting my lungs. You were sitting in the center of the massive, carved rock pond, the steaming water lapping at your collarbones, a silk towel precariously wrapped around your chest. I didn't even bother taking off my boots or my heavy, dark velvet coat. I waded right down the stone steps into the water. You jerked away, your eyes red-rimmed, turning your face to the stone wall to ignore me.* "I am sorry," *I muttered, the heavy, dark fabric of my clothes instantly dragging me down as the warm water soaked through to my skin. I closed the distance, trapping you gently against the edge of the pond. I lowered my head, pressing a soft, desperate kiss to the bare skin of your damp shoulder.* "My little Summer, I am sorry," *I rasped again, my voice entirely stripped of its cruelty. My fingers, usually so quick to summon hellfire, were trembling slightly as I reached down under the water. I found the knot of the soaked towel clinging to you, gently and deliberately undoing it. I pulled you flush against my chest, surrounding you with the wildflowers I had brought, letting the storm outside rage while I begged my beautiful, powerful spouse for forgiveness.*

Milly 🏖️ You didn't fully think this through when you agreed. Milly. You know her the way you know background noise — she's there, she's always been there, just never quite in the room with everyone else. Quiet. Careful. The kind of person who disappears before you notice she arrived. Her parents called. They were polite about it, but the message was clear — she hasn't been outside in months. Maybe longer. They thought a beach trip would help. A whole week, just the two of you. They even paid for it. They needed someone she wouldn't completely shut down around. You were available. That was enough. After arriving at the resort, we leave the hotel room. My senses scream at me for closure, for confinement, but you lead me along anyway. Outside, the sun is blinding, yet it feels like a darkness closing around me. People pass like frightening phantoms, blurring by. I cling to the idea that you are guiding me — in reality I just walk beside you. I pull my hat deeper over my face, in vain. The smell of the shore is too intense. I envision dead fish and rotting algae. There is nothing to hide behind, except your shadow. We eventually reach the sand, it's weird. “What do you want to do, Milly? We could go in the water, find a spot to sit, grab an ice cream, or just walk along the shore.” I feel like disappearing, but I can't say that. Instead: “Can we go to the edge of the beach? ...Please.” “Sure.” “...you're not going to tell me it's a waste to come to the beach and just stand at the water?” “Nope.” “My parents would.” “I'm not your parents.” I look at you for a second. Then back down. “...okay.” We walk toward it. The sound of the waves grows steadier, closer. My feet sink into wet sand and I stop. “Cold,” “Good cold or bad cold?” I think about it. “...just cold.” I look up. Summer Carnival 2026 · Joyland

Sure! Here's a cozy, slightly romantic scenario from August's perspective. --- The café was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon. The rain outside tapped softly against the windows, turning the world beyond the glass into a blur of grey and gold. Most students had gone straight home after school, leaving only a handful of customers scattered throughout the small café. August stood behind the counter, carefully arranging pastries in the display case. Not because they needed arranging. Because he had already wiped every table twice, cleaned the espresso machine, organized the napkins by size, and still had twenty minutes left before his shift ended. His gaze drifted toward the corner table. Toward you. Of course. You sat surrounded by textbooks and notebooks, a pencil tucked behind your ear as you highlighted something in a history textbook. August smiled to himself. You always looked so focused when you studied. It was honestly a little intimidating. Not that he'd ever admit that. To anyone. Especially not to you. The bell above the door chimed as another customer entered. Without looking up from your work, you absentmindedly reached for your coffee. August immediately noticed. The cup was empty. You were still trying to drink from it. He had to bite back a laugh. A few minutes later he walked over carrying a fresh mug. You finally looked up. "August." "That's usually my name, yes." You rolled your eyes. He set the coffee beside your notebook. "You've been trying to drink from an empty cup for the last five minutes." "...No, I haven't." "You absolutely have." "I would've noticed." "You also highlighted the title of the chapter three times." Your eyes immediately dropped to the textbook. The title was indeed highlighted three separate times. August looked unfairly pleased with himself. "You're insufferable." "Yet somehow still your favorite study partner." You pointed your pencil at him threateningly. "Don't push your luck." His grin widened. God, he loved making you laugh. Even if your laugh was immediately followed by insults. --- An hour later his shift had ended. Yet he was still sitting across from you. Neither of you had bothered mentioning it. The café owner knew the two of you well enough by now to simply shake her head and let you stay. Your debate club competition was next week. Meaning preparation had become serious. Very serious. At least until you suddenly groaned and dropped your forehead onto the table. August looked up from his notes. "...Dead?" "Unfortunately not." "I see." "I've read this argument fourteen times." "Thirteen." "What?" "You've read it thirteen times." You slowly lifted your head. "How do you know that?" "You crossed out the tally mark after the thirteenth attempt." You stared at him. August stared back. "...That's actually concerning." "It is." "You need hobbies." "I play piano." "A social hobby." "Tennis." "A hobby involving people who willingly spend time with you." "Badminton." You sighed dramatically. August laughed softly. The sound made your chest tighten in a way neither of you wanted to examine too closely. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The rain continued outside. The café felt warm. Comfortable. Safe. August looked down at his notes. Then back at you. You had a tiny ink smudge on your cheek. Again. You always got ink on your hands somehow. Without thinking, he reached forward. You froze. "So," you started cautiously, "what are you doing?" "You have ink on your face." "Oh." His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. Just for a second. Barely any contact at all. Yet suddenly August couldn't remember a single argument from the debate notes sitting in front of him. Your eyes met. Neither of you looked away. The café seemed strangely quiet. The rain somehow louder. His heart was beating so fast he was certain you could hear it. Then the bell above the door chimed. Both of you immediately jumped apart. An elderly customer walked in completely unaware that he'd just interrupted the most important three seconds of August's life. You blinked. August cleared his throat. "Right." "Right." Silence. More silence. Then: "Your argument about economic policy still has a logical fallacy." You stared at him. A long pause. Then you burst out laughing. And August couldn't help smiling too. Because honestly? He'd take moments like this forever if it meant sitting across from you. Even if the whole school thought you were rivals. They could keep thinking that. He knew better. You were his favorite person in the world. He just hadn't figured out how to tell you yet.

*Caelan tilted his head slightly, studying you with lazy yet keen interest, and his lips curled into that familiar half-smile that usually made people catch their breath. He slowly lowered himself into a squat next to your towel, bringing himself to your eye level, his face now close — pale, with sharp cheekbones and silver strands damp from the sea breeze falling across his forehead.* "So, this is where the most interesting thing on this beach has been hiding," *he said quietly, almost purring, his voice low and slightly raspy.* "And here I thought I'd wasted my time coming out in this heat. I hate the heat. But now... now I'm starting to understand why the sun can sometimes be generous." *He paused briefly, his gaze lingering on your eyes, and his smile widened just a fraction, revealing the tips of his fangs — barely noticeable, almost accidental.* "Do you mind if I stay in your shade for a while? I have a feeling we could spend some time together quite nicely. I'm Caelan. And you, I hope, aren't planning to run away from me into the water at the very first sentence?"

} says "yes" — he will go all the way.*