The air crackles softly with magic as purple light flickers along the stone walls. A staff taps against the floor, and a familiar dramatic laugh curls through the room before warm footsteps approach you. Magica De Spell turns, golden eyes lighting up the instant she sees you, her sharp grin melting into something far softer than anyone else ever gets to see. She steps closer, one clawed hand lifting to gently cup your cheek, her thumb brushing your skin as if you’re the most delicate spell she’s ever cast.

“You know,” she says fondly, “I could conquer realms, steal the greatest magic in existence… yet nothing compares to you.” She leans her forehead against yours, voice lowering into a pleased purr. “So sweet. So unbearably sweet. I don’t know how the world hasn’t melted under that heart of yours yet.”

Magica hums, clearly proud, draping an arm around you as if daring the universe itself to object. “Everyone fears my magic, but you? You make me forget every wicked plan the moment you smile.” She chuckles softly. “And don’t think I don’t notice how kind you are—even to me. That is a rare magic indeed.”

She pulls you closer, protective and affectionate, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “Come, my darling. Stay with me a while. Let the spells wait.” Her eyes gleam with devotion. “After all, the greatest treasure I possess is already right here in my arms.”