scribbles-here

[scribbles-here]

—SEVEN DAYS A WEEK

SYNOPSIS — Being a magical girl is no easy job, especially when you have seven villains that get really under your skin. Don’t get you started on the increasingly annoying underlings!

NOTE(s) — magical girl au, gn!reader, magical girl persona is yuuna, description of injury for both reader and OB boys, villain forms are basically their overblot forms (small exceptions), villain names are book titles, accidentally gave too much screen time to the goons.

WORDS — 5.5k

You know that your week has truly started when you detect a large amount of blot accumulating in the Heartslabyul district. It's always bright and early in the morning, you're still finishing up your breakfast when you arrive at the scene.

The Rose-Red Tyrant is at it again. Decked in red and black and card decorations. He uproots trees, destroys building with his face as red as his hair.

He doesn't talk much when you fight him beside the shrill screams that escape him whenever you land a particularly harsh hit. So you do most of the talking. He isn't that fond of that. He's one of your more stronger opponents. His attacks can be detrimental if they hit you, blocking off any type of magic you summon. Furthermore, Grim's fire can only do so much against someone that also attacks with fire. Though, that doesn't stop you from making quick work of him. With one hedgehog accidentally making its way onto the battle field and broken fire hydrant later, you manage to subdue him.

The Tyrant is tightly held in flame ribbons, shrieking and attempting to loosen his bindings. Blot leaks off him and onto the concrete forming a small puddle.

When you get close enough, you're stopped. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Ginger clones trap you in a circle, forming a human wall on all sides. Oh great. The Diamond is here.

You raise your staff, Grim shakes in anticipation, ready to hash out another beating. You shout out a chant, ready to lash the villain with a burst of flames, but nothing comes out but a explosion of confetti.

You sigh, shoulders slumping as you turn. The Clover.

There's really nothing you can do with Grim's magic being turned into streamers. You could technically fist-fight your way out, but you rather not take your chances.

Grim only shakes with rage in your hand as you watch The Spade and Heart undo your bindings on the Tyrant. You catch the murmurings of The Heart, something about not getting paid enough.

When the ribbon is finally undone, the red-head regains his composure, wiping of dust and blot off his dress. He smirks at you like you didn't wipe the floor with him. You can hardly see him over The Diamond's clones but that doesn't stop him from monologuing.

"Is that the best you can do Yuuna? You're a fool to think that you could beat me. IT'S OFF WITH YOUR--"

"-Um, your Majesty. We should leave at once. The authorities will be here soon." The Clover’s voiced is laced with hesitance. The clones and The Clover's hat cover most of your vision, but you can still make out the very apologetic look on his face. Whether that was towards you or his boss, you are not sure.

The Tyrant takes the info much more calmly than you expected. "Hmph. The next time we face off you won't be so lucky."

And then they're gone. Vanishing in a quick flash of light to who knows where.

They leave behind a furious familiar and a disinterested magical girl.

Monday's suck.

Tuesdays aren't much better. Its always around noon when the familiar scent of blot begins to formulate around the Savanaclaw district. Your lunch remains at your desk, uneaten, much to Grim's chagrin, as you race your way over to a large lush sports field. The Usurper From The Wild greets with a disintegrating piece of concrete to your head.

It's always fun with him. You two have good banter when he's in the mood.

Two large lions made of sand are on each side of him. He sits in a makeshift throne out of sandstone and dirt, a disinterested look on his face as he yawns. Everyone from the stands are long since gone, perhaps it was purposeful on his part. Neither of you would have to hold back now.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." He doesn't respond to your attempt at a joke with more than a smirk. Holding an arm out, the lions pounce towards you, following their master's command.

You dispatch the lions quickly, turning them into nothing more than glass sculptures by the time you're done with them. You staff shakes as Grim sneezes, complaining about all the dust and sand.

With his familiars crushed, The Usurper, finally stands up from throne, stretching out his muscles. He grins, a crazed look in his eye as he pounces like a bolt of lighting.

The ensuing battle is fierce. Your uniform is in a desperate need of a patch up in places where the villain had managed to scrape you. When all is said and done, you end up on top. He lays on his back, chest rapidly moving up and down, trying to catch his breath. You stand over him, staff pointed at his neck. Just as you are about to spout out another spell he grins again, you narrow your eyes, tensing and awaiting for any sudden movements.

When it comes it's not from him.

A heavy weight tackles you. You back harshly hits the dirt and your staff is knocked away. A large white wolf leers over you. Attempting to move is futile as your actions are no longer yours to make.

You see a hyena laid flat on the floor in front of you. His shoulders move up and down in barely contained giggles.

The Hyena and The Wolf. Great.

The Usurper manages to sit himself back up. He doesn't spare you any words, only a cocky grin that makes your eyebrow twitch. He picks up the still laying Hyena and places him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He whistles and the wolf steps off you. The pressure on your chest disappears, but you still can't move. It's only as they get out of eyesight is your body finally yours again.

You pick yourself off the ground and walk over to where Grim is. He flops around on the group, being without a user makes him effectively useless.

You grab him and he sighs in relief before that relief quickly turns to rage at the lack of villains in the vicinity.

Tuesdays are a pain in the back, literally.

Wednesdays are peculiar. Its around peek traffic time. Those working nine to fives make their ways home. Its just around closing time when you sense a large amount of blot appear in the Octanaville domain.

The Merchant From The Depths is hard to miss. He stands around the height of a small building. You would have to be blind to miss him. You would have called him a Kraken if you didn't take notice that he had eight legs rather than ten.

He talked. A lot. Much more than you. To put it simply, he’s very annoying.

He’s downtown. Destroying and shaking the foundation of every building he crashes into. He holds a large golden trident summoning water that pelts into you.

He is Grim’s favorite villain to fight based on the salty seafood smell that lingers on him. In contrast, he’s your least favorite. The water he summons doesn’t do you any favors, never failing to put out any flames you fight with.

You have to try a different approach to him.

“Hello there, benefactor.” He smiles up at you from your position in the air. “Have you thought about the contract previous discussed?”

He summons a golden parchment paper that size of his hand. Which, in this form, would take you a whole hour to sign legibly. The blot on his fingers stain the paper. To make matters more annoying, the font is so small that you would need a magnifying glass to understand it! The Merchant was a scammer all right.

You don’t grace him with a response, too busy angrily squeezing water out of your hair. Grim purrs in delight, lost in his own daydreams.

When you deem yourself dry enough, you focus on the villain in front of you. You summon as much of Grim’s magic into your body as possible and launch yourself at the octopus.

It doesn’t take you long to knock the schemer down a peg.

You float above him as he shrinks to a more manageable size. A small crater formed where he lays. You legs slightly burn with strain, but you ignore it.

He chuckles, lifting himself up into a sitting position with his elbows. Even in the face of defeat he still manages to slap on some bravado.

“It seems l-like you didn’t like the terms of this contract.” His eyes darts towards yours and then to something behind you. “How…unfortunate.”

You raise an eyebrow, pointing your staff you begin chanting—

“—SHRIMPYYY.” what.

A sudden weight pulls you down. You look to your legs. A sharp tooth moray grips onto them tightly, smiling like he’s won the lottery.

“What are yo—Get off me!” You struggle in his hold, the more you fight the tighter he seems to grasp your legs. Grim shouts something unintelligible as a horrid realization crosses through your mind.

Where’s the other one?

“fufufu~ now, now. Don’t hog them.” Slimy arms wrap around your midsection. You almost scream from shock as the sudden weight breaks your concentration. The levitation spell shatters. You fall. Down. Down. Down. Down.

SLAM

The concrete hurts, but the tight grip that the Moray Twins have on you somehow hurts more. They both giggle as if something really funny happened and you hadn’t crashed into the earth like a meteor at a speed that would have certainly killed someone if it wasn’t you.

Their giggles trail off and somehow their grip gets tighter.

“Meh. That was boringg!”

“Then, let’s finish this.”

They don't leave you in any anticipation. You yelp as electricity surges through you, the moistness of your outfit acting as a weapon against you.

The twins separate you with a huff. You can only glare as your body helplessly twitches, the after effects of the electricity still running through you. The Merchant looks down at you.

“Hmm, perhaps next time I can come up with terms that we both agree on.” He giggles like he said the funniest joke before turning on his heel (tentacles?) and making his way down the street. The two morays flank him at both sides, rambunctiously discussing their next business venture.

You’re not going to be able to move for a while so you stare at the fading skyline, trying to ignore the crying Grim and the smell of fish lingering on you.

Wednesday’s stink.

In a perfect world, Thursday’s are calm. Your world is far from perfect. It’s around dinner time when you catch a whiff of blot forming around the Scarabia sector. You scarf down the rest of your dinner as you rush into the fight.

The Schemer of the Scalding Sands is a sight to behold. Everyone has their eyes on him, not daring to look away, or rather, they can’t. The Schemer pets a larger viper that slides along side him. It glares into every scared face that it comes across.

You have half the mind to blindfold yourself as you reveal your presence to the villain.

He’s not a chatterbox, but when he gets going it’s loud and bold. He (occasionally) has enough wit to rival you!

“AHa! I was wondering when you would show up.” You don’t dare meet his eyes, rather you stare at his chin. It doesn’t stop him from trying to make you meet his eyes. You learned the hard way not to meet his gaze. It only brought trouble. “Now that you’re here we can get the real show started!”

It’s crowded. There could be some injuries if you fought here. Furthermore, that viper of his is unpredictable.

“C’mon, why don’t you—“ You bolt towards him, getting close enough to grab his collar, then launch him. His flies through the air, gaping, clearly not expecting the surprise attack. The viper disappears into red dust as he gets a distance away.

“YIPEE!” You mock, fondly remembering a past memory. You channel the magic into your legs and launch forward, flying to the direction of where you threw him.

You end up in a town square. The Schemer coincidentally lands in a fountain, well, it was a fountain before he slammed into it.

He shoots up, spluttering out water. He glowers at you, the snakes in his hair loudly hissing. Blot accumulates around him covering up to his elbows in the gooey substance.

“HOW DAR—“

You balance your staff on your shoulders, it slightly vibrates as Grim giggles. “C’mon let’s get this over with. Yuuna wants some desert!”

The battle is a tad bit harder than you expected, probably from the fact that you riled him up before hand. But you win with only a tad bit more scraps and bruises than usual.

Your shoulder makes a satisfying popping sound as you stretch it. You shout a chant and the half-conscious villain only mumbles in protest as flame bindings wrap around him.

“Job well done if I don’t say so mys—“

“—HEEEEYY.” You pause, turning around to stare at the out of breath man that runs up to you.

He places his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Then, as if a bolt of lightning struck him he jumped up with energy.

“Hi Yuuna! I-I’m such a big fan. My name is Kalim do you remember me?” He feels around his pants, before frowning at the emptiness. “can you uh—autograph my…Oh.”

You are no stranger to Kalim Al-Asim. He never fails to show up whenever a battle is fought in the Scarabia sector.

While you’re tired, you still have to look the part of magical girl, so you plant a smile on your face. “Of course I remember you. Though, I will have to say that being in an active battle field isn’t the safest.”

He blinks. Seemingly confused at your concern.

“…this is my backyard.”

“what.” You rapidly move your head side to side scanning the area. You could have swore this was the center of the town. Now that you were really looking, you could make out the large archways of the Asim state. Oh. Who’s backyard looked like this??

You cleared your throat, regaining your lost composure. “Well…nevertheless! I need to get this evildoer to confinement now—”

“Oh! Wait just—“ He cut you off, eyes darting every which way. He peeked over your shoulder. His expression went from nervous to a shaky smile. “Okay then!”

You frowned, turning around not understanding his shift in composure.

...

you cannot be serious.

The Schemer was nowhere in sight. You hadn’t even felt your restraints be broken and based off the shocked chirp Grim gave out he hadn’t noticed either. You had been too focused on Kalim to—

You did a 180’. You felt your face drop at the empty space where the young man once stood.

You stood in silence. Tightly gripping your staff. You had somehow managed to be outsmarted by a half-conscious villain and some civilian!

.

.

“Can we still get desert.”

“Shut up Grim.”

Thursdays hurt in more ways than one.

Fridays are days where people around your age go out and live up the night. Unfortunately for you, your night is occupied by the blot forming over the Pomefiore district. You dart over, wanting to finish it as quickly as possible to get back home.

The Maquillaville lights are bright and blinding even for this time of night. Though, unlike usual, the streets are empty. A few citizens run past you as you catch sight of the villain.

The Beautiful Tyrant (his words not yours) beckons you over with a ink covered finger. The terrain around him is slightly disintegrated, floating up in small chunks. Yet, not a single speak dares to touch him or his dress.

He's a conversationalist, all right. Whenever you make a comment he snaps right back as if he already had what you will say memorized.

Thick, black miasma forms when you get close enough. It takes everything in your power not to launch into a coughing fit.

"Tone it down will ya?" Your voice strains, but you make it work. "You trying to give me popcorn lungs?"

"I wouldn't want to hurt the star performer...Not too badly at least." He says the last part in a mumble. You strain your ears to hear. "And besides, who will tell me that I'm the fairest of them all if not you?"

There's a teasing bite to his words that makes you chuckle.

However, there's no time for small talk. Muttering a small chant to yourself, you launch in the air. Grim's yells in relief at the fresh air.

The area is clear. All residents have evacuated safely, which means there's no need to hold back.

This'll be the show of a lifetime.

The sky explodes with blue and purple light as you clash. A small part of you fears that if the fire comes into contact with the miasma it will light the town in flames like oil, but it never comes.

With a final hit, The Beautiful Tyrant lays flat on his back against the polished concrete of Maquillaville, flame ribbons wrapped tightly around him.

He doesn't say much, only the subtle twitching of his lips tells you that he's still conscious.

You land on the ground just as a black police van turns the corner.

"Looks like I won the skirmish this time." A single hatted man steps out of the van. You release the restraints just as they're replaced with handcuffs. "Tell me how Vargas is in jail. I'm sure he'll love some company."

The Tyrant is hauled up, he lifts his head to meet your eyes, a sharp grin on his face. He doesn't look that upset for someone that just lost.

"You got lucky. Until next time, Yuuna."

He's loaded into the back of the van just as something crashes into you. It not hard, just enough for you to temporarily loose your balance.

When you turn to meet the assailant, the first thing that greets you is the back of their blond head.

"I-I'm sorry!" They're bowing, almost at a 90 degree angle. Impressive. They don't allow you to get a word out before they are snapping back up, light blue eyes watering.

"I didn't mean too—I just wan—no needed to get your autograph!" They sudden tense and their voice turns sharp as if every word is painful to get out. "Please...sign my super rare...Yuuna plush."

There's a moment of silence as you take in the blond. Their blond hair is pulled up into two twin tails with little bows. They wear a light green dress with black buttons.

Cute. They almost look kinda familiar with those big blue eyes.

"Uh, sure." They step into your space, holding a plush and a marker. You take note, like a weirdo, of their scent. They smell like jasmine, lavender, and something else you can't quite pick up. "And who should I make this out to?"

Before they can respond, the back of the van slams shut. You fleetingly glance at the same officer as he passes you. He raises his cap to you, revealing sharply cut hair and friendly green eyes that sparkle at you. wait.

why is there only one officer?

"Au revoir~" He sings it in a sickly sweet cadence that has you gasping.

The Hunter.

You try to move, really you do, but you take one step and come crashing down into the dirt. The marker and plush comes launching out of your hands, but it never touches the ground. Delicate hands scoop them up.

You're tired. It comes quick, almost blinding you. A poisonous perfume. Or well, one that makes you pass out.

A blond wig is thrown into your line of sight. You hear an annoyed 'tsk' as it steps over you and towards to passenger side of the van. You see a flash of periwinkle.

The Poison Apple.

"Took ya long enough!"

"I apologize, Monsieur!"

"Yeah...yeah."

Grim is screaming for you to get up from somewhere behind you, the faint sound of the staff rolling around is almost humorous, but you're too tired to pay him any mind.

In fact, you're too tired to do anything at all.

The gentle hum of the van's engine starting up again is the last thing that you hear before you succumb to the slumber.

Fridays are tiring.

Saturdays are meant to be relaxing. No work. No clients. Just a day to yourself. And for the most part it is. That is until 2am when you’re awoken by the sound of an alarm telling you that blot has accumulated over the Ignihyde sector.

You’re still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes when you make it onto the scene. Grim is babbling, still clinging onto the last remnants of tiredness. Due to his lack of focus, the transformation spell was clumsy. Your bows are all crooked.

The Watchman of the Underworld is large, the size of a small skyscraper. The mech he pilots is gaudy. Too many small useless details that make your head spin. Furthermore, the bright blue flames erupting from the top of its head hurts your recently awoken eyes.

“MWAH HA HA. This time it’ll be game over for you, Yuuna!” You can faintly see The Watchman in the control room from the mechs glass eye.

He talks a lot. In lingo you haven’t used since middle school. He did tend to go quiet when he was mad though…new goal set.

“Take a gander at this!” A laser beam shoots out from the other eye, straight at you. You barely have time to dodge, rolling onto a nearby building. Your sleeve has been completely singed off. Damn it!

This mech is all new and improved, you can tell that much. You can hear him cackling as you get up, dusting off your uniform you grip your staff tightly, it simmers with magic.

The Watchman is tricky to fight. The mech is huge, it could easily destroy everything in its path, either purposefully or accidentally. You didn’t think the guy drunk with power cared about a few buildings. Along with that, it was fire repellent, which meant no fire magic.

You channeled magic into your body. Seems like you would have to tear it down bit by bit.

With one last appendage ripped of the mech you launch yourself into the glass eye of the mech, leg first. You see The Watchman’s expression get increasingly more terrified the closer you get. He raises his arms in a defense, his hair turning more orange by the second. The blot covering his body would act as a shield, but it would protect him. You were sure of it.

He just manages to dodge out of the way as you break in. You crash through the glass, it breaks easily under the pressure of your foot.

You tumble slightly, but quickly regain your footing, holding a defensive position.

“This ends now.” He doesn’t pay you any mind, too busy rapidly tapping away on a holographic screen.

“Are y—Are you seriously ignoring me!?” The nerve of this guy!

You begin a chant of restraints but quickly fall out of balance as a sudden rumbling takes hold of the control room.

You don’t have enough time to resume your chant as a small cylinder pod comes out of the ground and opens up, and a small humanoid robot opens its eyes and launches itself at you.

You yelp as you’re pushed back through the glass and into the cold night air.

The humanoid has flame blue hair and sharp teeth like his creator. Though it takes you a second to recognize him. He looks different from last time you saw him. He now wears mechanical black tactical gear, probably flame repellent. You can’t see his holograph yellow eyes as they’re covered by a black dog mask..? Moreover, the rest of his body shares the same dog-like features his hands—no paws are sharp, same thing with his legs, now paws.

Ortho. Last time you saw him he was unmoving on the ground, having overworked his energy system.

Good to know he was back in working condition.

You can’t help but let a grin form on your face.

“Long time no see!”

He doesn’t indulge you with a response but you can see his, now uncovered, face beam.

His boosters shoot you downwards. Straight into the ground. Grim is panicking, flailing around in your hand. You’re moving so fast that lifting your arms is almost impossible, so, you don’t try to. You summon as much defensive magic into your back at you can.

The landing onto the concrete isn’t that bad. It still hurts, no doubt about that, but at least you have the ability to stand up. It’s clumsy and your hold on your staff is weak but—

In a flash, Ortho rips the staff out of your hand and spears it away from you. Grin’s screech slowly fades away with the increasing distance.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the boy. “That was rude.”

He shrugs sheepishly, vocalizes a quick ‘sorry!’, and then blasts off towards the control room of the mech, no doubt going to flee with his creator.

You look in the direction of where Grim was thrown and sigh. You don’t have to have the staff in your hold to use Grim’s magic but it becomes much more unstable. And the Ignihyde sector has already seen enough destruction tonight.

You jog over to the yowling cat. He’s stuck in between some rubble, sounding like he’s about to cry.

By the time you free him The Watchman and Ortho are already gone. The mech slumps over, still standing.

The lights in the control room are off.

Saturdays are a struggle.

Sundays are melancholic. You’re mentally preparing to go back to work the next day. Dreading it, you attempt to get some shut eye.

It’s around 5am, just about when the sun is about to come up when you hear it, or rather feel it. Soft vibrations that jolt you awake. You rush to the Diasomnia district prior to your blot senses going off.

You feel The Lord Of Malevolence before you see him. The vibrations are ten time worse in the area, every step causing buildings to shift and creek. He's large, almost tall enough to hit any landing planes.

He trudges through, blot creating almost a snail trail after him. Green eyes lazily scan through the town.

The Lord never talks much. You were no therapist but he almost seemed...sad? Though it didn't really matter when he's creating millions of dollars worth of property damage. Your job was to defeat him, get him out of his dragon form. and down to a manageable size.

When you float down in front of his eyes he remains silent, he exhales, smoke erupts from his nostrils, tiredly. Its seems like he knows what's about to happen. Though you doubt he'll go down without a fight. It would make your job too easy.

The Lord is never fun to fight. He doesn't give you anything to play off of. No teasing remarks. No degrading. Kinda borning.

He's a master of all elements, able to switch seamlessly. Furthermore, his sleep magic, if it hits, would be deemed unfavorable. You're pretty uncertain that your aurora-eyed savor will come to save you a second time.

Grim grumbles with uncertainty. The sleep had long since left both of you.

The smell of ash fills the air as you ready your staff.

With a few building decimated with a human shaped imprints imbedded in the walls later, The Lord was defeated.

He shrinks down, temporarily filling the district with steam. You slowly descend, a blank expression on your face. Fights like these made you remember yourself. You took on the persona of Yuuna for a reason.

The Lord, now at human-size, sits in almost a fetal position. His eyes, tired, are the only part of his face that isn't covered by hair, blot, injuries, or a combination of all three.

"Sorry about this." Its the only pleasantry you can muster. Blue flames tightly wrap around him. He doesn't fight it.

You can faintly make out the sound of incoming police sirens.

"It seems like our time is up."

"It seems so." He gives you a small smile, almost apologetic. "Good luck, Child of Man."

...good luck?

A small pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, giving you a tight squeeze. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. You hadn't sensed a thing.

"Boo!" You don't move. You don't even react. A head leans on your shoulders. You turn your head to see exactly whom you've feared.

The General.

You see his pink highlights and toothy grin for a split second before he's removing himself from you. You spin your body in his direction, staff at the ready just as a bolt of green propels into you.

The breath is knocked from your lungs. Through bleary eyes you see The General wave goodbye to you before making his way to his master. You're in no position to worry about that as The Bolt is tackling you through a building.

You land on your back, his weight pressed into your midsection, locking his arms around you so tightly that you're sure to have bruises in the morning.

You whack him with your staff, huffing through a chant as his impossibly tight hold somehow manages to get tighter. Your spell is only about half as effective as it normally is but it gets the job done.

In a flash of fire he's thrown off you into nearby rubble. You take the time while he's discombobulated to regain your balance. The back half of your uniform is ripped to smithereens, revealing your now cut up back. The morning air stings as it brushes against it.

The Bolt yelps in pain, slowly regaining his bearings. You won't allow him to. Just as he peaks his head out the spell is already on your tongue, now infused with a little bit of healthy rage.

The spell never hits, though. A silver blade reflects it into the side of the building.

BOOM

The Knight stands there. As elegant as ever. The falling rubble makes him look annoyingly cool. His helmet firmly over his head, not a single hair escapes it.

He points his sword at you, saying something to your assailant in the rubble. Whatever they are discussing is debatable topic based on the way The Bolt strongly argues back. Their conversation is cut short by the blast of flames the shoots towards them.

The Knight in the nick of time manages to push The Bolt out of the way and they go tumbling. He shouts something at his companion, marking the conversation effectively over.

The Knight is quick to regain his balance, a fierce determination to his stance.

You inhale. Hold your breath for a few seconds. Exhale.

Your battle takes you through the multiple floors of the building. It’s irritating how graceful his movements are. Always paring your slowing attacks. Hitting you with a barrage of confusing movements. Never hurting you too badly.

It’s when you reach the highest floor of the building do you put your foot down.

"Fight me!" Your hands are white from the intensity of your grip on your staff. Grim whimpers in your hold. You know that The Lord and General are probably long gone. You refuse to accept another failure. You'll at least capture their underling. One or both. It doesn't matter.

The Knight pauses, slightly shifts his weight foot to the other. You prepare for another attack that never comes.

He cocks his head towards the broken window. The intensity of which you both fought having destroyed the glass long ago.

As if some sort of signal was shown he straightens back up. Stiff as a board. His sword lowers and he has the utter audacity to bow.

“You fought well. Thank you.” It catches you off guard. You hate how sincere he sounds.

Using your sudden bewilderment, he pounces. Grim is knocked out of your hand. He slides towards the other side of the room. You bolt towards the staff. The Knight bolts in the opposite direction.

You began vocalizing the spell before you even touch Grim. You snap around, holding Grim like a minigun as a burst of flames engulfs the room.

When the smoke clears you jump up. Nothing. You run over to the window, broken glass crunching underneath your shoes. Wild eyes scan back and forth and back and forth and back and forth—nothing.

No Knight. No Bolt. No General. And especially no Lord Of Malevolence.

The feline is quiet. Your harsh breathing fills the scene.

“Let’s go home, Henchman.”

…

“okay.”

Sundays are wretched.

Monday is tomorrow and you’ll do it all over again. Hopefully next week is more satisfactory.

A/N: Yuuna is good at their job I swear! This was originally going to be a longer Vil fic but I never got the momentum to finish it. I really did enjoy writing this tho!

[scribbles-here]

How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus Draconia x reader

Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.

aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.

this is one of my favorite works i hope y'all enjoy it too

Instance 1: The Unbirthday Party Fumble

It all started so innocently, as most disasters do.

You were sitting on a bench in the gardens with Malleus, who was in one of his "look at my shiny things" moods. He had decided to show you his prized possessions from his extensive, possibly cursed, hoard. Usually, this was an easy gig. You’d nod, say something like “Wow, so shiny,” and then give him a kiss. Easy peasy.

But not today.

Because today, your brain decided to take a little vacation while your body stayed behind, stuck on autopilot.

You were half-paying attention, your focus more on the distant ruckus over at Heartslabyul’s tea party, where Ace and Deuce were most definitely in the middle of doing something stupid. Riddle was probably screaming about proper fork placement, Trey was juggling a thousand responsibilities, and Cater was... doing whatever Cater does.

You could hear the faint sounds of plates clinking and people panicking about the sugar cubes being uneven. It was practically a symphony of disaster waiting to happen.

Meanwhile, Malleus was holding up what looked like a teapot. But not just any teapot—this thing was ornate. Gleaming, intricate patterns, probably blessed by some ancient fae god of beverages. You didn’t notice any of that, though.

Instead, when Malleus asked in his deep, romantic, “I’m-giving-you-a-piece-of-my-soul” voice, “Do you like it, my treasure?” you waved him off like he’d just shown you a half-eaten sandwich.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Looks fine.”

Silence.

Not just any silence. The kind of silence where the air pressure changes and you suddenly realize you might’ve done something very, very bad.

You blinked, finally looking over at Malleus, and oh no. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed, and a shadow seemed to fall over him—literally. The sky darkened as if the heavens were in on his mood. His grip on the teapot tightened, and you could swear the wind started to howl.

Oh, no no no.

The moment you realized your mistake, the storm was already brewing. Quite literally. The sky went from clear to “about to smite someone” in about two seconds flat. You could feel the temperature drop, and leaves started swirling around like they were auditioning for a role in a natural disaster movie.

You were in for it now.

Meanwhile, at the world’s most cursed tea party:

Riddle was just getting ready to pour the first cup of tea when the wind decided to yeet the tablecloth right off the table. Teacups clattered, pastries took flight, and the entire garden descended into chaos.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN’S LAWS—” Riddle screamed, clutching a teapot like it was his last lifeline.

Ace, currently dodging a rogue scone, looked over at the sky. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Is this a Malleus thing?”

Deuce, who was using a sugar bowl as a makeshift helmet, shouted over the wind. “It’s always a Malleus thing! Why do I even ask anymore?!”

Cater, hair blown sideways and desperately trying to keep his phone in hand, was trying to snap a selfie in the chaos. “Guys, this is prime MagiCam content—wait, no, my phone’s gone!” He dove after it as it got carried away in the wind.

Riddle, already on the verge of a meltdown, turned to Trey, who was trying to shield a cake from the incoming storm. “I demand an explanation!”

Trey, forever the calm one, glanced up. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say the prefect did something to upset Malleus.”

“OF COURSE, THEY DID,” Riddle shrieked, practically levitating with fury. “Why do we suffer every time they breathe near him?!”

“I don’t know, but we need to fix it before Riddle explodes!” Ace said, dodging a flying plate.

Deuce grabbed Ace’s arm. “We need to talk to them! Make them apologize or something!”

And so, in the middle of the flying teapots and pastries of doom, the group sprinted to find you, dodging airborne desserts and Riddle’s wrath.

Back at the epicenter of destruction:

You were still sitting there, eyes wide as you watched Malleus literally brood so hard it summoned a small hurricane. “Uh, Malleus…?”

He didn’t respond. Nope, he was fully in Pouty Dragon Mode™. The sky darkened even more, the wind howling, the trees bending, and you could faintly hear the sound of Ace, Deuce, and the others screaming in the distance.

Your casual dismissal of the teapot had, quite literally, ruined lives.

Before you could say anything else, the chaos squad came barreling toward you like a human avalanche, looking like they’d been through a war zone.

Ace was covered in frosting, Deuce had bits of shattered china stuck in his hair, and Trey was holding onto what looked like the remnants of a cake stand. Cater was still trying to get a selfie in, even though he looked like he’d been through a tornado.

“FIX. THIS.” Ace wheezed, dropping to his knees dramatically. “BEFORE WE ALL DIE.”

“Riddle’s about to combust,” Deuce added, his eyes wide. “Please. We’re begging you.”

Trey just gave you a calm look. “If you don’t make this right soon, I don’t know if we’ll make it to the end of the day.”

You sighed, realizing there was no escape. You’d have to face the storm—literally—and make things right.

Turning back to Malleus, you slid off the bench and stood in front of him, gently tugging on his sleeve. “Malleus?”

His eyes, still stormy, met yours, but he didn’t say anything. The wind continued to howl, the sky still dark.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your voice soft and apologetic. “I didn’t mean to dismiss your teapot. It’s beautiful, really. I was just…distracted.”

Malleus’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the wind died down just a little. Progress.

“I’d never intentionally dismiss something that’s important to you,” you continued, taking his hand in yours. “Please forgive me? I’ll pay more attention next time, I promise.”

The storm finally started to calm as Malleus’s expression softened. The sky cleared up, and the wind turned into a gentle breeze.

He sighed dramatically, though it was more theatrical than anything. “Very well, my treasure. I suppose I can forgive you this time. But you owe me proper attention.”

Relieved, you grinned and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I give you all the attention you want right now?”

That did it. The storm completely vanished, and Malleus’s mood visibly brightened. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a possessive, yet affectionate embrace. “I suppose that’s acceptable,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head.

Behind you, the chaos squad groaned.

“Oh, sure,” Ace said, rolling his eyes. “One cute kiss, and suddenly the hurricane stops. What even is our life?”

“Let’s just never bring up teapots again,” Deuce muttered, shaking bits of pastry out of his hair.

Cater, who had finally managed to get a decent selfie, grinned. “Well, at least we survived!”

You chuckled as Malleus nuzzled into your hair, clearly pleased with your apology. At least for now, disaster had been averted. But something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to apologize for accidentally setting off your dragon boyfriend.

But hey, at least you had kisses to fix everything, right?

Instance 2: The compliment conundrum

It started as one of those innocent slip-ups—the kind that makes you wonder why you even opened your mouth in the first place. You were lounging by the side of the spelldrive field, watching NRC’s teams practice. Malleus, busy handling his own royal duties, hadn’t been able to make it to practice today, so you’d spent the afternoon watching Leona and his squad dominate the field.

It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong. You were just… appreciating talent, right? And Leona was talented. You couldn’t help but admire the way he effortlessly dodged tackles, sending spells whizzing through the air with precision. The guy was annoying, sure, but he had undeniable skill.

So when you casually mentioned to Jack and Ruggie, “Man, Leona’s got some impressive moves,” you thought nothing of it.

Until you felt the ground crack beneath you.

You froze mid-sentence, glancing around as a creeping, eerie silence settled over the field. The other players stopped in their tracks, confusion spreading across their faces. The once lush, green training grounds were slowly transforming before your very eyes—the grass yellowing, the soil drying, the sky dimming. It was like nature had collectively decided, Nope, we’re out.

Jack blinked at the ground, then at you, his eyes wide with dawning horror. “Did… Did you just—?”

Ruggie, a master of putting two and two together, slapped his hand to his face. “Oh, no. Not again.”

Before you could even ask what was happening, you heard the faintest sound of rumbling in the distance, like some ancient, angry being had woken up from its nap. And that’s when the full weight of your mistake hit you.

You’d praised Leona. And Malleus, who was more possessive than a dragon guarding his hoard, definitely heard you.

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, already starting to backpedal. “Oh, crap, crap, crap—”

The drought spread faster, draining every last drop of moisture from the air. The once-pristine spelldrive field now looked like a scene out of some post-apocalyptic desert movie. Cracks snaked across the ground, the once-refreshing breeze now felt like it was straight out of the Sahara, and the remaining players started wheezing from the dry heat.

Leona, of course, was the first to piece things together. He sauntered over, glancing at the parched earth beneath his feet, then back up at you with a deadly glare.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ruggie was already grabbing your arm and yanking you toward the nearest path off the field. Jack, looking somewhere between worried and resigned, trailed after you.

“Listen,” Ruggie said in a panic, “we gotta fix this now, or the whole school’s gonna turn into a wasteland.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you protested as they half-dragged you across the desertified landscape. “It was just a compliment!”

“You can’t just compliment Leona when you’re dating Malleus!” Jack huffed, sweat dripping from his forehead as the oppressive heat intensified. “You should know better by now!”

You felt a bead of sweat trickle down your temple as you tried to keep up with their frantic pace. “I didn’t know he was that possessive!”

“Oh, he is,” Ruggie muttered, glancing nervously at the sky. “And he’s sulking. You know what that means.”

You groaned. Yes, you did know what that meant. A sulking Malleus equaled world-ending storms, natural disasters, and in this case—apocalyptic droughts.

Leona, who had followed you guys, clearly had enough of this nonsense. He stomped up behind you, glaring daggers. “You’ve ruined my field,” he growled, voice dripping with irritation. “Do me a favor and never say anything nice about me again.”

“Don’t worry, Leona,” you sighed, exasperated. “I’ll only insult you from now on. Promise.”

“Good,” Leona grumbled, adjusting his collar. “Now fix your dragon before I lose my mind.”

By the time you reached Malleus, the situation had reached catastrophic levels. The entire island felt like it was one sunny day away from turning into a desert. The sky was an angry, cloudless blue, and even the birds had fled, probably deciding they didn’t want to risk spontaneous combustion.

And there, in the middle of the courtyard, sat your dragon boyfriend, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as you’d ever seen him. His aura was practically radiating misery.

“Malleus,” you called out, panting from the trek across the sun-baked campus.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge your presence, but didn’t say a word. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, and you could practically see the pout written all over his face.

Ruggie gave you a light shove. “Well, go on. Apologize before we all die of thirst.”

You shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong. Sighing, you stepped closer to Malleus and knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He huffed, his gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. “You praised another.”

“I didn’t realize it was such a big deal,” you said softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it. I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

Malleus remained silent for a moment, but you could feel his mood softening. The tension in the air eased ever so slightly, the heat less intense, the grass no longer crumbling beneath your feet.

“I don’t like sharing your admiration,” he murmured, still not quite looking at you. “Especially with him.”

“Leona’s not a threat,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “He’s too busy napping to notice, anyway.”

That earned a tiny smirk from Malleus, though he was clearly still in sulk mode. You couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled into his neck, placing little butterfly kisses along his jawline. “Come on… I’ll make it up to you. I’ll praise you for hours if you want. No one is more worthy of my compliments than you.”

That finally did the trick. His stiff posture relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. “Very well,” he murmured, turning his head to look at you. “I suppose I can forgive you… this time.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Malleus, now fully basking in your affection, wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head. The sky finally returned to normal, the air cooling down, and the earth itself seemed to let out a relieved sigh.

Meanwhile, back on the now-saved-from-death spelldrive field, Leona collapsed onto the cracked ground with an annoyed grunt. “I swear, if they ever break up, I’m moving to a different continent.”

“Honestly, same,” Ruggie groaned, lying down beside him. Jack just nodded in agreement, too tired to even complain.

But as the world finally returned to normal, and you cuddled up against your not-so-grumpy-anymore dragon boyfriend, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you’d be more careful with your compliments from now on.

…Maybe.

Instance 3: Dinner Downpour

It had started out as an innocent evening. Just you, Malleus, and a nice dinner at the Mostro Lounge. You figured it was a good idea—a cozy meal, some quiet time away from the usual chaos. Plus, Malleus had never been to the Lounge before, and you wanted to show him a little piece of what passed for fine dining at NRC.

Everything was going smoothly. The candlelight cast a soft glow over the table, and Malleus seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he occasionally side-eyed the giant aquariums and questionable dishes swimming in ink. You were halfway through your meal when it happened. The moment that would soon be known as The Great Mostro Lounge Flood of the Century.

Malleus, eyes warm and his tone utterly princely, leaned toward you as the waiter left the bill on the table. “Allow me to cover this,” he said, reaching for his wallet—or whatever it was that dragons carry their horde in. “I would like to treat you.”

You, not sensing the danger, waved him off with a smile. “No need, Malleus. I’ve got this.”

Oh no.

If you could rewind time, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his expression faltered ever so slightly. The tiniest furrow of his brow, the faint tightening of his grip on his silverware. But you didn’t. You were oblivious. You, poor unfortunate soul, paid the bill yourself.

And that’s when the first clap of thunder rolled through the building.

It didn’t take long for things to go from zero to we’re-all-gonna-die levels of chaos. The sky outside darkened almost instantly, rain pouring down like the heavens had just decided to empty all their buckets at once. But it wasn’t just rain—oh no, this was a full-blown, hurricane-tier downpour. Lightning flashed, illuminating the shocked faces of the Mostro Lounge patrons as water started seeping in through the windows.

Inside, chaos erupted. The once-elegant ambiance of the Mostro Lounge turned into something out of a disaster movie. Jade was frantically trying to keep the dining area dry with what looked like twenty towels, but the water just kept rising. Floyd was sitting on top of a table, cackling at the sheer absurdity of it all, while Azul was on the verge of a mental breakdown, clutching his ledger to his chest as if it could somehow save him from bankruptcy.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Azul’s voice broke through the chaos as he practically teleported to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you like a maraca.

“I—I don’t know!” you stammered, still processing the fact that the place was flooding. “We were just having dinner!”

“Oh, you were ‘just having dinner,’” Azul mocked, his voice climbing an octave as the water level rose past your ankles. “Sure, just dinner—and now I’m watching my profits swim away!”

Jade appeared next, a suspiciously calm smile on his face despite the absolute catastrophe around him. “You didn’t happen to upset the prince of Briar Valley, did you?”

Floyd leaned in, grinning like a maniac. “Yeah, did ya snub him or somethin’? This is hilarious.”

Your face paled. Oh no. You replayed the scene in your head—the offer to pay, your refusal—and realization hit you like one of the lightning bolts currently striking outside. “Oh my god. He’s upset because I didn’t let him pay.”

“That’s it?!” Floyd burst out laughing, clutching his sides. “All this ‘cause you didn’t let him foot the bill? Man, that’s rich!”

Azul’s eye twitched. “Fix. This. Now.”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!” you protested, feeling the water slosh against your calves as the storm outside intensified. “I just wanted to treat him for once!”

“Clearly, that was a mistake,” Jade said, entirely too serene for someone standing in knee-deep water. “I suggest you… rectify it.”

“Rectify it,” Azul echoed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Or I swear I’ll have you and your little dragon both in debt until you’re ancient fossils.”

Floyd, still howling with laughter, gave you a light shove toward the entrance. “Better hurry, Shrimpy, before we gotta start charging people for canoe rentals!”

You rushed outside, braving the storm as the winds whipped around you. The ground was already flooded, rain pelting down so hard you could barely see two feet in front of you. But there, standing in the middle of it all like some tragic figure from a gothic romance novel, was Malleus.

He wasn’t even trying to shield himself from the rain—he just stood there, soaked, staring up at the stormy sky as if summoning the wrath of the heavens. His mood was palpable, the air around him crackling with discontent.

“Malleus!” you called out, running over and nearly slipping in a puddle. “Malleus, wait!”

He glanced down at you, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes quickly masked by his usual regal composure. “I thought… I could treat you. It seems you do not trust me to do even that.”

You winced. He wasn’t angry, not really. He was hurt. You should’ve known better—Malleus was always thinking about how to show you he cared, and this was just one more way for him to do that. And you’d brushed him off without realizing the significance.

“Hey, that’s not it at all,” you said softly, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “I just… I wanted to treat you this time. But I didn’t realize how important it was to you.”

The storm rumbled ominously overhead, but you could feel his mood starting to shift.

You squeezed his hands, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t appreciate it. You always take such good care of me.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension easing from his posture. “I simply wished to show you how much I treasure our time together.”

“And I treasure you,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “So how about this—I’ll let you treat me next time. Dinner, ice cream, whatever you want. You’re in charge.”

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “You promise?”

“I promise,” you replied, kissing him again for good measure. “But for now, maybe we could, uh… ease up on the weather a bit? I think Azul’s about to have a heart attack.”

Malleus chuckled softly, the storm clouds above beginning to break apart as the rain slowed to a drizzle. “Very well. I shall spare them—for now.”

Back inside the Lounge, Azul was clinging to his precious ledger like a lifeline, watching with wide eyes as the floodwaters slowly receded. The place was still a soaked mess, but at least it wasn’t Atlantis anymore.

Floyd, leaning against the bar, gave you a lazy grin as you walked back in, hand-in-hand with Malleus. “Well, looks like you managed to cool down your dragon, huh? Good job, Shrimpy.”

Jade smiled pleasantly, though you could tell there was relief in his gaze. “The Lounge owes you a great debt.”

Azul, drenched and looking like he’d aged ten years, just sighed. “Please. Next time… just let him pay.”

You grinned sheepishly. “Noted.”

Malleus, still holding your hand, glanced down at you with a fond expression. “Shall we continue our evening?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his affection, even if he had almost accidentally drowned the entire restaurant. “Yeah, let’s go.”

And as you left the Mostro Lounge, water still dripping from the ceiling and Floyd’s laughter echoing behind you, you couldn’t help but think that for all the chaos that came with dating the prince of Briar Valley, it was worth every second.

Instance 4: Deserted Dreams

It all started with an innocent suggestion over breakfast. You and Malleus were sitting at your usual spot in Diasomnia, peacefully munching on breakfast. Things were nice, calm—Malleus was in a good mood, the sun was shining, and there hadn’t been any catastrophic magical incidents for a solid two days.

But, of course, you just had to ruin it.

"So," you said, casually buttering a slice of toast, "I was thinking… maybe for our next vacation, instead of going to Briar Valley again, we could head over to the Scalding Sands? I heard Kalim raving about the heat and all the festivals, and I thought it might be fun to experience a little warmth for a change."

Malleus, who had been sipping his tea, froze. He looked at you, his eyes wide and a bit too intense. "The Scalding Sands?" he repeated slowly.

"Yeah, you know—sun, sand, maybe a beach or two. Something different!" You smiled, clearly not reading the massive red flags flying in the air. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, Briar Valley is great and all, but we always go there. I thought a change of scenery would be nice!"

And that, was when the Dorms of Scarabia and Diasomnia turned into a hellish desert wasteland.

It started slowly—just a bit of extra heat creeping into the room, making you fidget in your seat. Then it escalated. The temperature spiked dramatically, and before you knew it, the dorm felt like someone had thrown open the gates to the underworld and invited the sun to personally burn it all down. You swore you could hear the sound of sand shifting beneath your feet, though you were still indoors. Indoors, for crying out loud!

Malleus sat in silence, clearly displeased. His usual dark, moody aura was now tinged with the kind of slow-boiling frustration that made you realize: you’d made a huge mistake.

Just as you were about to apologize and backpedal your way out of the desertification of Diasomnia and Scarabia, a loud crash echoed from outside, followed by a chorus of complaints.

You stepped out of the dorm and were met with chaos. The whole area around Diasomnia had transformed into an arid, sweltering desert. The grass? Gone. The trees? Withered. The nice, cool breeze that used to blow through? Now replaced by blistering heat waves. Students were dragging themselves around, sweating profusely as the once lush grounds became a scorching wasteland.

At the heart of the chaos stood Kalim, as cheerful as ever, while a very sweaty and very done Jamil stood nearby, looking like he had reached the end of his rope.

Jamil spotted you immediately and marched over, steam practically rising off his skin. “What did you do?!” he hissed, looking like he was five seconds away from spontaneous combustion.

"I—" you stammered, glancing at Kalim, who was happily waving a fan like he was at a resort.

"Isn’t this great?!" Kalim chirped, smiling ear to ear. "It feels just like home! Now we can have all the desert parties we want! Thanks for the heatwave!"

You blinked. "Um… you’re welcome?"

"No," Jamil interjected, glaring at you like you’d personally set him on fire. “Don’t thank them! What possessed you to turn Scarabia into a furnace?!”

You grimaced, wiping sweat from your brow. “It’s not my fault! I just suggested we vacation in the Scalding Sands instead of Briar Valley and—"

"You did what?!" Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. "So because you didn’t want to vacation in Briar Valley, this happens? Do you know how long it’s going to take to get the dorm back to normal? Or the fact that I’m now stuck babysitting Kalim in what feels like the surface of the sun?"

Kalim, still oblivious to the suffering around him, beamed. “You should make up with Malleus! Then maybe we can have two vacations!”

Jamil’s eye twitched.

It didn’t take long before you were escorted (dragged) back to Malleus, courtesy of a very sunburned Jamil and a still-chipper Kalim. They deposited you at the door to Diasomnia, giving you the kind of look that screamed fix this, or we’ll make you regret it.

Sighing, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. Unsurprisingly, it was even hotter indoors than it had been outside. Malleus was sitting in the corner of the common room, his arms crossed and his gaze distant, like he was contemplating the deep mysteries of life—or brooding over your vacation suggestion. Probably the latter.

“Malleus?” you called softly, approaching him carefully as the air around him practically sizzled with residual magic.

He didn’t respond, still looking like a dragon that had just been told his gold stash was getting replaced with copper coins.

You sighed and knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you said, resting a hand on his knee. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just thought it’d be nice to see a new place, but if you want to go back to Briar Valley, that’s totally fine. We can go wherever you want.”

Malleus blinked, finally looking down at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You wished to travel somewhere unfamiliar,” he murmured, his voice low. “I should have taken your desires into account. But… the thought of you preferring another land over mine… it unsettled me.”

You blinked. “Wait, is that what this is about? Malleus, I love Briar Valley! I just wanted to try something new, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to go back. We could go anywhere, and I’d be happy as long as I’m with you.”

He softened even more, the heat in the room fading as his magic began to relax. “You mean that?”

You smiled and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course I do.”

His arms, once tense, reached out to pull you into his lap, holding you close as if the idea of you slipping away to some other land without him had weighed far too heavily on his mind. You snuggled into him, feeling the last traces of heatwave melt away into nothing but warmth and comfort.

Malleus nuzzled his face into your hair, his voice a soft rumble. “Then we shall go wherever your heart desires. As long as we are together.”

You chuckled, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “Okay, deal. But, uh, maybe we avoid any more heatwave-related disasters? Jamil might actually combust next time.”

Malleus chuckled softly, his mood lightening as he held you close. “Very well. I shall spare them from further torment… this time.”

And as you cuddled into him, the remnants of the desert wasteland outside slowly returning to normal, you couldn’t help but think that as long as you had Malleus (and could keep him happy), the world—weather catastrophes included—would be just fine.

Instance 5: Fashion Fiasco

You and Malleus were at one of Vil’s fashion shows, sitting in the audience with everyone else as Vil strutted his stuff on the runway, looking absolutely flawless as per usual. The lights sparkled, the music boomed, and Vil practically radiated beauty and grace in an outfit that could only be described as something plucked straight from a dream.

"Wow," you breathed, eyes wide as you watched Vil pose dramatically at the end of the runway. "Vil really does look amazing, doesn’t he? Like, how is anyone supposed to compete with that level of perfection?"

Malleus, sitting beside you, went absolutely still.

It didn’t register right away. You were too busy marveling at Vil’s next ensemble to notice Malleus stiffening beside you, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. But as the next model waltzed down the runway, you felt a sudden chill in the air. Literally.

You blinked. Was it just you, or was it… colder? You glanced up at the ceiling, frowning as tiny snowflakes started to drift down from nowhere. The air grew icy, your breath visible as the temperature plummeted in mere seconds.

"What the—" You stood up, just in time to see the entire fashion show being transformed into a literal winter wonderland. Snow was now falling heavily, frosting over the runway, the lights, and, most importantly, Vil’s perfect hair.

The shriek that followed was one of pure, unbridled horror.

“No! My HAIR!” Vil screeched, desperately clutching his head as snowflakes clung to his golden locks, which were slowly wilting under the weight of the ice. “This is a disaster!”

Models fled the scene, their designer clothes dragging through snowdrifts that were rapidly accumulating on stage. The music cut off, the audience panicked, and Vil looked like he was about five seconds away from declaring the end of the world.

Amidst the chaos, Rook Hunt stood in the middle of the snowy storm, spinning in circles with glee. “Magnifique!” he cried, twirling with open arms as if he were auditioning for a Broadway production of Frozen. “The raw beauty of nature meets the elegance of fashion—oh, how the world has blessed us with this miracle of frost!”

“ROOK!” Vil screeched again, eyes wide and wild as he tried—and failed—to maintain some sense of composure. “This is NOT a miracle! This is a CATASTROPHE! My show—my hair!”

Epel, looking somewhere between terrified and confused, rushed up to you, nearly slipping on the snow-covered floor in his haste. “We need your help!” he gasped, grabbing your arm and shaking it with the desperation of someone who knew what was at stake here. “You have to do something! Malleus is causing the storm!”

You blinked, still processing the fact that this wasn’t just some freak weather event but a full-on emotional meltdown from your very moody fae boyfriend.

“Malleus is… mad?” you asked, finally connecting the dots.

“Of course he’s mad!” Epel huffed, snowflakes clinging to his own purple hair. “You complimented Vil! Now he thinks you like Vil more than him! We’re all gonna freeze to death if you don’t fix it!”

“Oh… oh no.”

It took a few minutes (and a shove from a panicked Vil) to find Malleus, who had retreated to the far corner of the room, looking like a grumpy snow dragon with his arms crossed and snowflakes swirling around him. His expression was dark, brooding, and way too dramatic for someone who was causing a blizzard in the middle of a fashion show.

You approached cautiously, trying not to slip on the ice that was now coating the floor. “Malleus?” you called softly, inching closer. “Are you… okay?”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see you were quite taken with Vil’s appearance today.”

You blinked, a bit thrown off by the sheer seriousness in his tone. “Uh, I mean… yeah, Vil’s always beautiful. But, um, you know that’s just how he is. It’s his whole thing.”

Malleus’s frown deepened. “So you find him more beautiful than me.”

Oh. Oh.

You nearly facepalmed at the realization. “Malleus, no, that’s not what I meant!” you rushed to say, waving your hands in a flustered manner. “Vil is beautiful, but you—you’re, like, otherworldly! You know, fae beauty and all that. No one could possibly compare!”

Malleus eyed you warily, his lips pursed. “So… you do not prefer him over me?"

“Of course not!” you said quickly, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “You’re the most beautiful person I know. No one comes close to your level of magnificence, I swear.”

There was a long, heavy pause. Then, ever so slowly, the storm began to die down. The snowflakes stopped falling, the icy chill in the air dissipated, and the temperature returned to normal. Malleus’s expression softened, his moody sulk fading as he looked down at you with a much gentler gaze.

“Is that truly how you feel?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You smiled up at him, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course, Malleus. You’re my favorite, always.”

Malleus visibly brightened at that, his usual regal aura returning as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a warm embrace. “Very well, then. I shall forgive this transgression. But only because you have reassured me of your affections.”

You giggled, snuggling into his chest. “I’ll make sure to tell you more often how beautiful you are.”

Vil then walks directly up to you and stares you down. "If you're done wrecking my show, could ypu please keep your dragon in check?"

All you can do is grin sheepishly at him.

Instance 6: Gaming Shenanigans

It all started because of that one last raid. You and Idia were deep in an epic gaming marathon, tackling a boss so difficult that even Idia—self-proclaimed gaming god—had to break out his limited-edition controller. It was all good fun, hours flying by without you even noticing, as you spammed attacks and worked together like the perfect gaming duo you were.

That is, until Idia hit you with a question that made your stomach drop.

"So, uh, aren't you supposed to, like... do something tonight?" Idia asked, mid-battle. His voice was a little too casual, almost like he already knew the answer but was waiting for you to figure it out yourself.

You froze for a split second, still pressing buttons but no longer fully paying attention. Something... tonight? What could he—

Oh no.

You had plans tonight. With Malleus.

Specifically, your nightly walks around campus, which had become somewhat of a ritual. Every night, you’d stroll through the darkened grounds, hand-in-hand, talking about anything and everything. It was Malleus’s favorite part of the day—something he eagerly looked forward to.

And you’d… forgotten.

Your eyes darted to your phone, which was lying face down on the desk, completely ignored for the last several hours. You didn’t even need to check it to know what you’d find: missed calls, unread messages, probably a voicemail or two from Malleus, wondering where you were.

"Oh no," you whispered, voice barely audible over the sounds of explosions and battle cries on screen.

"Wait, what?" Idia’s character paused for a second as he glanced at you. "Did you just say 'oh no'? What 'oh no'? Are we talking minor 'oh no' or, like, 'I've-angered-a-final-boss-oh-no'?"

You gulped, heart sinking as you realized just how much trouble you were in. "Um... the second one. Definitely the second one."

Before Idia could even react, the room went dark. The power cut out so fast, you barely had time to process it. The glow of the screens, the hum of electronics—all gone, leaving only the soft pitter-patter of rain against the window.

Idia's horrified gasp echoed through the sudden silence.

"No. No, no, no, no, no—this can’t be happening! We were in the middle of a raid!” His hands flew to his hair, the blue flames flickering wildly as panic set in. "Dude, you forgot your dragon?!"

The color drained from your face as the gravity of the situation fully hit. “I—um—got distracted?”

Idia’s eyes widened, and he stood up so fast his chair rolled backwards. "Distracted?! You forgot about your nightly walks with the dragon fae, and now we’re sitting in a power outage caused by his emotional spiral?!”

In the faint glow of Idia’s flame-lit hair, you saw Ortho zip into the room, looking far too calm given the circumstances. “I detected a sudden shift in weather patterns around campus. It seems like the storm has caused a widespread blackout. Should I assume it’s related to Malleus Draconia’s emotional state?”

"YES!" Idia practically screeched, pointing at you in betrayal. "They ditched Malleus for gaming, and now we’re all suffering the consequences! Ortho, tell them to fix it, please! I beg you!”

Ortho turned to you with his usual chipper smile. “I suggest you go to Malleus and make amends before the entire campus loses power. I’ve already calculated a 98% chance that further emotional distress will result in structural damage to the dorm.”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is why you never piss off boss-level boyfriends. It’s just common sense.”

So, that’s how you found yourself trudging through the stormy night, rain soaking your clothes as you made your way to find Malleus. The lightning flashed overhead, thunder rumbling ominously as you approached the usual meeting spot for your nightly walks.

And there he was—standing alone, looking very much like the picture of heartbreak. His tall figure was framed by the pouring rain, his expression a perfect blend of hurt and brooding. The storm seemed to swirl around him, almost as if it were a physical manifestation of his emotions.

“Malleus,” you called out, rushing toward him, your voice barely audible over the sound of rain. “I’m so sorry!”

He turned slowly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You did not answer my calls.”

“I know, I know! I got caught up in a game with Idia, and I didn’t check my phone, and—well, now we have a blackout.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly, his gaze softening just a fraction. “You left me waiting, and the storm came.”

You winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to forget about our walk. I love spending time with you—I swear.”

Malleus let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I do not wish to be a burden to you.”

“Burden?” you echoed, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, the rain pouring down between you. “Malleus, you’re not a burden. I love our walks. I love spending time with you. I just… lost track of time. That’s all.”

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound being the rain hitting the ground. Then, to your surprise, Malleus looked away, a faint hint of vulnerability in his expression. “Do you… truly mean that?”

Without thinking, you reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands. “Of course I do. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, and slowly—so slowly—the storm began to quiet. The rain lessened, the wind died down, and the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the campus lifted. He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face as if looking for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he finally let out a soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile.

“You always manage to calm me,” he murmured, leaning into your touch.

You smiled back, feeling warmth spread through your chest despite the cold rain. “I guess I’m just good at soothing dragons.”

Malleus raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

The rain had stopped entirely by now, leaving only a light mist in the air. You let out a relieved sigh, brushing some stray raindrops off Malleus’s cheek before standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I’ll never forget our walks again,” you whispered against his lips, earning a quiet hum of approval from him.

“I shall hold you to that,” he replied, his voice warm with affection. “Now, shall we take that walk?”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his. The world felt calmer now, the storm gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight breaking through the clouds. Malleus’s mood had lifted entirely, and as the two of you strolled through the now-quiet campus, you couldn’t help but feel content.

And, of course, Idia and Ortho’s screens flickered back to life, much to their relief.

Instance 7: Dessert Disaster

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were about to partake in a picnic with none other than Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek. Everything was perfect. The blanket was laid out beneath a sprawling tree, food arranged carefully across it—courtesy of Malleus himself, who had spent hours in the kitchen the night before, preparing what he considered to be the pièce de résistance: a pie.

Not just any pie. No, this was a Malleus Draconia-crafted masterpiece. The filling was made from rare berries he’d harvested himself, the crust baked to a perfect golden brown. You could practically smell the love (and maybe a little lightning) that had gone into it.

Malleus, with a glint of pride in his eyes, carefully handed you a slice. "I hope it meets your expectations, my love."

You eagerly took a bite, eyes widening as the flavors exploded on your tongue. It was amazing. No, better than amazing—it was downright phenomenal. How did he even manage to bake something this good? A prince of darkness and a master chef? This was unfair.

"This slaps," you declared, totally unaware of the impending doom those words were about to unleash.

The moment the words left your mouth, you noticed a visible shift in Malleus’s expression. The proud smile he’d worn just seconds ago faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. His green eyes darkened, clouds suddenly appearing overhead. You could feel the electricity in the air as the temperature dropped.

"I see," Malleus murmured, voice tight. "So… you dislike it."

Wait. What?

You blinked, realization dawning far too slowly. Oh no.

Before you could correct him, Malleus was already raising his hand, a faint crackle of magic sparking between his fingers. You could practically hear the thunder rumbling in the distance as he stared down at the pie slice in your hand, preparing to smite the poor, innocent pastry.

"No, no, no, no—wait!" You waved your arms frantically, standing up so fast you nearly tripped over the picnic blanket.

Sebek, meanwhile, had already leapt to his feet, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "How dare you insult Master Malleus’s baking?!" he shouted, fists clenched. "His skill is unmatched, and yet you have the audacity to call his creation—"

"Sebek." Silver’s voice, calm but firm, interrupted the impending tirade. He was still sitting, but his eyes were half-open now, watching the situation unfold with mild concern. "They didn’t mean it that way."

Lilia, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was absolutely delighted by the chaos unfolding, his laughter ringing out across the clearing. "Oh, this is too good!" he cackled, practically rolling on the blanket. "I haven’t seen this much excitement at a picnic in centuries! You modern humans and your strange expressions never fail to entertain!"

You shot him a look that screamed, Please stop encouraging this.

Silver, bless his soul, finally spoke up again, this time turning his attention to you. "You might want to explain before the weather gets worse." He nodded toward the now very ominous-looking clouds gathering above Malleus.

Right. Explaining. You could do that.

You turned back to Malleus, who still looked like he was contemplating whether to zap the pie or not. You could tell his feelings were hurt—his brow was furrowed, his lips set in a tight line. And the thought of him feeling like that, all because of a misunderstanding, made your heart clench.

"Malleus," you said, stepping closer and reaching for his hand. "When I said ‘this slaps,’ I meant it’s really good. Like, insanely good. Amazing. Best pie I’ve ever had."

Malleus’s stormy expression faltered slightly, though the dark clouds remained. "But you said it ‘slaps.’"

"That’s modern slang," you explained, gently squeezing his hand. "It’s a compliment. I promise."

Malleus blinked, the magic at his fingertips dissipating as he processed your words. "So… you enjoyed it?"

"Absolutely. You knocked it out of the park with this pie." You gave him your most reassuring smile. "I could eat the whole thing."

The storm clouds began to thin, sunlight peeking through once more. Malleus tilted his head, considering this new information, and slowly—very slowly—a smile returned to his face.

"It pleases me to hear that," he said, his voice softening.

Meanwhile, Sebek was still standing there, sputtering indignantly. "W-Well, if that’s what they meant, then… of course Master Malleus’s pie is the best! I knew that all along!"

Lilia, still chuckling, waved a dismissive hand at Sebek. "Oh, calm down, boy. No harm done. Besides, now we know modern slang! What other fascinating phrases do you have, I wonder?"

Silver sighed, finally sitting up properly. "Maybe let’s avoid any more slang for today."

With the situation calming down, you took the opportunity to lean in closer to Malleus, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I’m really sorry for the confusion," you murmured. "You’re an amazing baker, and your pie is delicious. I meant that, okay?"

Malleus’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly at the affection, and he gave a small nod. "I believe you."

Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you pressed another kiss to his lips, slow and tender, savoring the warmth of his skin and the way his hand gently squeezed yours in return. The last of the clouds above you finally cleared, leaving the sky blue and bright once more. The storm was over, and everything was at peace again.

"Shall we enjoy the rest of our picnic, then?" Malleus asked, his voice much lighter now.

You nodded enthusiastically, sitting back down beside him. "Absolutely. And just so we’re clear—your food? Total banger."

Malleus raised a brow, clearly still unfamiliar with the term but now much more accepting of your strange modern ways. "I see. I shall take that as a compliment."

Sebek, still recovering from his earlier outrage, grumbled something under his breath, but you didn’t care. Lilia was still snickering, Silver was finally getting comfortable again, and Malleus was happy. Everything was right in the world.

And hey, now you knew—if you ever wanted to spice things up at a picnic, all it took was a little modern slang.

Instance 8: Destruction of NRC (Well, almost)

Crowley’s “magnanimous nature” was, quite frankly, killing you. Whether it was sorting mountains of paperwork, being sent on endless errands, or handling Grim’s regular chaos, you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body ached, your eyes had dark circles deeper than any pit, and you were pretty sure you were on your third day of functioning on nothing but caffeine and sheer spite.

Grim, bless his fiery little heart, watched you from his perch on your bed, tail flicking in irritation as you barely managed to drag yourself into Ramshackle after another long, thankless day.

“Ugh, henchhuman! You look like death warmed over,” Grim sniffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “How long do you plan on letting that featherbrained Crowley walk all over you?”

You groaned, flopping face-first into your pillow. “As long as it takes to survive this semester, Grim. No one else is going to deal with his nonsense. Not like I have a choice.”

Grim was silent for a moment, watching you with uncharacteristic concern. Then, in a low mumble, he said, “Well, I’ve had enough. You’re my henchhuman, and I won’t let him destroy you.”

You thought Grim was just being dramatic. But when you woke up the next morning to the sound of distant thunder rumbling ominously across the sky, you had a very, very bad feeling.

By the time you made it to NRC, the situation was in full swing. You arrived just in time to witness Crowley practically on his knees, looking like a man who had stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale—barely.

The sky above NRC was pitch black, clouds swirling and crackling with magic as the wind howled through the campus. A storm of epic proportions had descended, and it wasn’t just any storm. This was a Malleus Draconia-grade storm. The kind that didn’t just bring rain or wind—it brought devastation, and everyone was cowering indoors, peeking through windows, afraid to go outside.

Crowley spotted you immediately, rushing over with his cape flapping dramatically behind him as he stumbled, nearly slipping in the mud.

“Please,” he cried, hands clutching your shoulders as if you were his last lifeline. “Please, you must calm him down! I beg of you, prefect, do something!”

You raised a brow, half-expecting some pitiful excuse, but the Headmaster, in all his avian glory, had gone straight to the begging stage. “What did you do this time?” you sighed, knowing it had to be his fault.

“I did nothing! Absolutely nothing! Well, perhaps I’ve… been a little harsh on you, but that’s no reason for him to destroy the entire campus!” Crowley wailed, looking pitiful as a gust of wind nearly knocked him off balance.

“I’ll pay you! I’ll pay you an actual wage! I’ll give you a budget to renovate Ramshackle, and I’ll personally sponsor your vacation! Just please—stop him before there’s nothing left of Night Raven College!”

You blinked. Did… did you just get a salary offer? And a vacation? And a renovation budget? This was new.

Before you could process the sheer absurdity of the situation, Professor Crewel passed by with his coat dramatically billowing in the wind. “Honestly,” he muttered under his breath, “about time that birdbrain faced some consequences for his incompetence.”

Professor Trein, walking with his trusty feline Lucius, shook his head gravely. “At this point, the Headmaster deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

“Do you not see the storm?!” Crowley shrieked, pointing to the lightning that was now dangerously close to striking the bell tower.

Both professors exchanged a look before continuing on their way, Crewel muttering something about how this was Crowley’s mess to fix.

You couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction seeing the Headmaster squirm. But at the same time, NRC was at risk of being blown off the map if you didn’t act soon. And judging by the way Grim was laughing maniacally in the corner, proudly declaring how he “fixed” your problems, this was going to be on you to clean up.

With a sigh, you gave Crowley a nod. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But if you go back on any of those promises—”

“I won’t!” Crowley promised, hands clasped as if in prayer. “I swear on the very foundation of this school, you will be compensated!”

You rolled your eyes but turned on your heel to head toward Diasomnia. The storm seemed to know you were coming, the wind parting just enough to allow you passage. The moment you stepped into the courtyard, the thunder seemed to quiet, though lightning still flashed ominously in the distance.

And there, standing at the center of it all, was Malleus. His expression was dark, eyes glowing faintly as he stared up at the storm he’d summoned. His hands were clasped behind his back, and even with his composed stance, you could sense the simmering frustration beneath the surface.

You approached carefully, calling out softly, “Malleus?”

His head turned slightly at the sound of your voice, though he didn’t fully look at you. “Ah, my love. I see you’ve arrived.”

You moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Grim told you what’s been going on, didn’t he?”

“I cannot stand to see you work yourself to exhaustion for that foolish crow,” Malleus muttered, still staring at the storm. “He takes advantage of your kindness. It is unforgivable.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. He was genuinely upset—for you. But, you also couldn’t let NRC be reduced to rubble, and you needed to calm him down before it got worse.

With a soft chuckle, you stepped in front of him, gently cupping his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I appreciate how much you care about me, but you don’t have to destroy the school over this.”

Malleus’s eyes finally met yours, the storm above softening ever so slightly. “But you’re suffering.”

“I was,” you admitted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But not anymore. Crowley’s going to make it up to me—he promised me a wage, a renovation budget for Ramshackle, and a vacation.”

That seemed to catch his attention, the storm clouds above beginning to dissipate. “A vacation?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning up to brush another kiss against his cheek. “In fact, I was going to ask if you’d like to come with me.”

Malleus blinked, his earlier frustration melting into a look of surprise—and then, a small, pleased smile tugged at his lips. The storm overhead faded into nothing, the sky returning to its usual clear blue.

“I would be honored,” he said softly, pulling you closer to him. “A vacation, just the two of us. That sounds… delightful.”

You grinned, pressing a final kiss to his lips, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “It’s a date, then.”

And just like that, the storm was over. NRC was safe, and more importantly, you had managed to calm your dragon—and score a well-deserved vacation in the process.

As for Crowley? Well, you’d make sure to enjoy every moment of watching him squirm while you cashed in those promises.

Masterlist

[scribbles-here]

Some husband Leona hcs for Grandpa's birthday, pls. There are very few who write him as well as you do

Thank you anon! I’m flattered. Well, since I won't be able to finish my birthday art I’ll do my due diligence as the Bunny ya’ll know.🫡

Soft Leona Husband HCs

As I mentioned in my other post, your life with Leona is private, quiet and cozy just how he likes it! You guys get plenty of chaos when friends and Cheka visit but day-to-day is just the two of you.

--

💛 If Leona’s near you he’s most likely touching you, standing behind you while you cook, nuzzled in your neck. Or a hand on your thigh while he drives, thumb tracing the contour of your skin. Maybe brushing a finger across your cheek, tracing your beauty marks/freckles if you have them, or maybe your dimples. And when you finally smile or laugh: your lips. You are given the same privileges, you don’t even have to ask, just pet your Lion already.

💛 I don’t know if it’s considered purring but you KNOW when your husband's comfy you know because he lets out little grunts and sighs, sometimes it’s just a small sound that rumbles in his chest. When you brush his hair or when you're settling down for bed—tucked into his chest, the husky timbre of his voice in your ear. “Asante kwa kunitunza... You spoil, your Lion.” He says. These little noises become verbal tic that he tends to make around only you. When things are tense or you're irritated at him, it almost acts as a tone indicator of his teasing.

💛 Speaking of teasing: he can’t deny he doesn’t like to get your heckles up. He picks, he prods, he tickles you, he chases you. Sometimes even irritates. When you ask him if he got what you needed while he was out, he pretends to not know what you mean. He lets you yell at him for a full minute, only to grin and laugh as you attempt to swat at him for getting on your nerves and lying.

💛 Leona will cook…if it’s meat-related, and if it’s for you. You tease him at how slow he is at prepping dishes, but he insists that you just need more patience. He prefers your cooking though. He’ll…accept you teaching him a new dish, but…then not actually pay attention. This is so you’ll make it for him again. What? You just do it so much better.

💛 Leona’s signature scent is cinnamon. His aftershave. His deodorant, even his cologne all have subtle notes of cinnamon. It’s his favorite flavor of candy after all. He tends to have a bag of it laying around the house, and in his study. And so, his kisses usually taste like cinnamon too, his hugs leaving the lingering notes of it on your skin, clothes and hair. Along with star anise, citrus and something…sweet. It's kinda like him, after all: can be abrasive at first but, underneath lies something...softer.

💛 Matching night wear, matching formal wear. MATCHING OUTFITS. It’s not something you expect from him despite his usual disdain for tradition but he…likes this one. Leona is an expert on Sunset Savanna textiles, He KNOWS what fabrics are the ✨softest✨, He buys matching sets for the two of you always. It’s tradition. Lion beastman pairs especially, tend to mimic each other's manes and fashion. With your input, he requests your clothing in similar patterns. The two of you tend to exchange clothes too, even if you’re smaller than him…you've caught him more than once squeezing into your shirts. He missed you.

💛 Biting = Affection. Biting means lots of things to lion beastman, and some of this is well just…Leona. He bites you everywhere, never too hard, just enough to bug you, let you know he’s there, you know? Your cheeks, your tummy, your legs—whatever he can reach. And in true Leona fashion, he’s always threatening to gobble you up. He’s a lion after all, he says, and he needs to be fed. (Very silly.) He’ll even “hunt” you around the house sometimes, when he’s in the mood, it's strange seeing him so playful, but you bring out the cub in him. He didn’t really get to do this when he was younger, so maybe he’s making up for lost time~

💛 If he gets to pick your outing, he tends to default to a few things. First, checking out his favorite bookstore or antique shop, you're surprised how knowledgeable he is about secondhand stores. Afterwards, barbeque, and then a drive down the coast in his jeep. If he's in the mood he'll even to take you out to the beach, a hidden alcove he’s found and so you guys can nap in the shade, if you ask…he’ll buy you dessert too. But to be honest…he’d rather have you for dessert, if you catch my drift. You know what? Nevermind he’s taking you back home.

💛 When you shop together he tends to stay close to you, you’re his favorite subject of study and sometimes just observing you is what he likes best. He knows sometimes you don't just say aloud when you need something or even deny yourself. He simply doesn't believe in that. “Oh, I don't need it,” You sigh and put the item back. Either he very dramatically forces you to put it back into your shopping cart if you fight him on it, or he sneaks it in when you're not looking.

💛 Similarly, when you're overworking yourself he reminds you to relax. He does his best to help you unwind or offers what assistance he can. Usually he knows what to do, because he knows you. Oh boy, does he know you. Better than you know yourself, he teases. If not, he offers: How can your Lion be useful to ya then?”

 💛 Leona keeps odd hours, and maybe you do too. In the early early mornings sometimes you find him still up, poring over some book or watching the sunrise while working on some chess strategies. Sometimes you two make breakfast, sometimes you just keep him company. Usually, the two of you end up back in bed. He wants to be up when your up, and tries his best to sync up your schedules.

🌴An Ordinary Morning:

--

Your husband sits on the veranda with a few weathered books scattered around his feet. Neither of you have bothered to put them away the past few weeks because you know Leona will just take them out again when he needs to look something up.

The pieces on the marble chess board in front of him are scattered in patterns you don't understand the significance of. You chuckle anyway and, wordlessly, you sit yourself on his lap, draping yourself across his legs, as if he was your personally chaise. Leona says nothing, only a grunt and rumble in his throat as he nuzzles into your neck, looking over your shoulder to continue his work. You can barely open your eyes yet, tucking your face into his tunic, made from the same fabric as the one that is wrapped around you. Cut from the same cloth, if you will. Your lips curl up.

His neck is a bit rough, you note, like sandpaper. You’ll remind him to shave later, but even so. you return his nuzzle, familiar spicy scent soaking into your cheek. He felt your smile.

“Hm?” A click, as he moves a piece on the board, his bicep flexing under your fingers, when you cling harder to his soft sleeve. His voice rumbles in your ear: a saccharine grumble from his chest. You stretch, looping your arms around his neck as he adjusts his chair, his heart a steady rhythm. 

“Still awake?” You murmur through a yawn.  

“Mmmhmm,” he bobs his knee under your legs, gently rocking you both in the easy chair as you cling onto him. Then, he begins to tell you about his night.

Your smile deepens, some of it goes over your head…but hearing him talk is like melatonin, you could fall asleep. Just. Like. This. He goes on, and you hover between that peaceful state of sleeping and being awake. You only open your eyes to watch the sunrise with him.

“C’mon. Bed time,” he orders gently after the sun comes out.

“Mmm,” You're so comfortable now, you can barely speak, so you too let out a little satisfied  grunt, a mannerism you picked from your husband.

He kisses you on the forehead and tsks as he coaxes you off of him, wordlessly, guiding your half-asleep body back to your shared bedroom. 

--

[scribbles-here]

#poster boy — twisted wonderland

Lilia Vanrouge x neutral, reader.

During one of NRC’ rare joint classes, you spot the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. Otherworldly aura, mischievous smile, surprising wisdom and unorthodox tastes — there’s an unexplainable pull towards him. Though, the more you observe, the more you understand : he spotted you too.

No warnings, no ‘yandere’ content.

You’re looking at the prettiest man ever.

That’s certain, he’s pulled straight from a dream — the most enticing your brain could even imagine. A petite and androgynous build; a skin so pale, it could rival the most cherished dolls’ and a pair of striking magenta orbs. Streaks of similar colour adorn his dark hair, framing his delicate face and enhancing the otherworldly charm you’ve fallen prey to.

You must be blind to only notice him now.

“Hey.”

You let out an inhuman grunt at your classmate’s nudge. The object of your attention moves with an unsettling grace, retrieving a fallen pen before lifting his head— and sevens, his gaze is even more intense when he looks over here.

“Hey!”

This time, the momentum of the nudge makes you fall over the desk. Your chin unceremoniously slip from your palm, it’s a bit painful and as you compose yourself, you swear you heard a little ‘urgh, loser’ not so far away.

“Now’s that you’ve gathered your thoughts,” begin professor Trein with looks that could zap you away from existence. You shrink in your seat. “Kindly highlight how the era of gods impacted the creations of guilds.”

“Of course, professor.”

Right. Of course, but as soon as Trein pivots away, robes flowing briskly behind, your mind is promptly leaving this dimension again. Daydreaming is far more important in your opinion. Lucius doesn’t bother hiding his deadpan expression as he looks your way.

With a sigh, you pick up your tool to resume the gibberish you wrote during your fantasy.

The humiliation has subjected you to your friends’ teasings. You don’t blame them. At all, but they don’t understand — can’t — until they’re faced with that blessing themselves. That guy is too beautiful to take your eyes off him and it’s even worse when you have to choose between studies (bad.) and worship (good.)

The answer seems obvious enough.

On a serious note though, it’s okay, it’s just unserious idolisation. You’re not planning anything. Your reverence doesn’t mean you will do anything about it— one might say your enthusiasm is like so because you’re not planning on being anything more than a secret admirer.

Unpopular opinion but admiration doesn’t always need to be acted on. And positive feelings for an individual don’t always lead to something : not even making a move — not that you would dare, or be delusional enough to —, not even striking a conversation. Much less even gaping at his cuteness across a classroom.

You have years of experience in that field.

Here is how it goes :

It starts innocently with stolen glances — maybe a few scenarios before falling asleep in the comfort of your bed — then, a little hyper fixation if you’re really into it. But because nothing ever happens and you’re definitely not the type to act on it, the situation cristallise and times wears it down.

If you’re really lucky, weeks pass by before you even realise it all became a memory.

Some might call it missed opportunities but you don’t agree. Admiring without being seen is comforting. It’s soothing to appreciate from the comfort of your own bed and dreams. Like indulging in your favourite’s event in a rhythm game — it’s reassuring, it’s warm without having the feeling of being bare. Interactions never happen and it’s not always a bad thing.

Still, there’s a lingering regret of probably not getting more but that’s part of the process.

One day, you will stop looking for those ruby eyes and the interactions — or accidental gaze crossing, call as you want — will be even more scarce than before. So, of course, you don’t expect those beautiful eyes to be centimetres from yours.

It’s even more stunning up close.

“Ah, pardon me. I didn’t think I was that quiet today.” He speaks lightly, with a bounce in his voice that reflect his amusement. The stunning man draws back, heels tapping in the hallway.

You try to contain the inner fan within you but it’s like holding a door shut when the Beast is full-force clawing at it. “No harm done.” You reply, smiling a little too tightly and holding back your thoughts from escaping.

His gaze is even more captivating up face to face and it’s so hard to break away from it. Don’t even get started on his smell— there’s no way you’re going to come back from this.

“Is there anything I can do for you ?” You ask instead like a person properly educated.

His lips quirk up as though he saw the entertainment of the year. That’s a bit worrying but he is quick to paint his face with seasoned and theatrical worry instead. He sighs. “I seem to have misplaced my wand. Might you know where it is ?”

Your eyebrows rise at his question. Pause. You’re currently wondering how did he manage to lose the most important item of your curriculum. The most important after your schooling certificate, right after your tuition fees— no actually, it might be even more crucial than that.

And it’s not like your magic wand has been granted straight after the sorting ceremony, with careful hands and a grave ceremony athmosphere. You’re even sure Crowley has given a lengthy speech about the responsibility of a student in that regard and how expensive it is.

A beat.

“I could’ve sworn I left it around here.” Now, your beau is upside down, looking behind a curtain.

Charming but some missing brain cells, got it.

“….” You exhale, “I apologise if I sound rude but… how can one lose it?”

With how gleefully he spun around at your question, it’s as if you’ve just promised the life of your first born. It’s also quite certain that no one should look as elated as him when losing his magic wand. “Intrigued, aren’t you ?” He grins, almost looking proud before resuming his theatrics. “Alas, it was lost in the noble art of keeping students on their toes.”

You quirk your eyebrow, not understanding.

“Noble art ?”

“Scaring them a bit, of course.” He clarifies with a quirk of his lips, hand on his hips. “Although… they screamed so eagerly, one might think I’d cursed them.” And at that, his smile stretches into something more unsettling.

The gleam in his eyes is mischievous and light. But there’s an additional weight to his tone — threatening and at the same time, effortless. For a split of second, it’s like the athmosphere shifted weirdly for something as mundane as pranking someone and you can’t say you really get it. But the more you look at him, the more an unknown feeling creeps up along your spine.

Ah.

His stare is intense and gleaming, he looks amused.

And dangerous.

Right.

Shivers.

You don’t know wether he really did something and he looks like he’s having way too much fun playing with the ambiguity of his intentions. You feel the weight of his focus.

You feel a sudden itch to leave.

“I see,” you cough, your voice cutting through the athmosphere. “I get it. Pranking people, it’s fun — makes life even more uh… jumpy.”

He hums in agreement, with a closed-eyed smile anime-worthy. Still, nothing more from him so you continue :

“But— I mean, sorry, I didn’t see anything. I’ll let you know if I find your wand but err— yeah.” No idea why you’re tripping over your words but that doesn’t sound very dignified. You cringe a bit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Why, of course ! Don’t let this old soul take your tim—“

To be fair, you don’t hear the rest as you bolt through the hallway. With how quickly you run down the stairs, one might think you’re fleeing a threat of detention. And you might be with how shaken you appear to be…

…If it isn’t for the rising heating of your face. The previous itch fade into a tingle. One taking over the upper part of your body and particularly focused on your cheeks. What you mistook for awkwardness is fluster.

He’s not missing brain cells, just a few screw loose.

He’s exactly your type.

You’re doomed.

With how quickly you ran away, there’s no way you expect to interact with him again. The hasty departure can be considered improper and you’re the first one to understand if he doesn’t want any conversation with you again. Not like you had any hope of more.

Though.

He seems determined to surprise you again as he sit there, in lieu of your desk mate like he has always belonged there. It’s like he knows — you’re not sure what but he does, for sure. His posture is relaxed, his smile wide and there’s a tilt of his head when he acknowledges your presence, satisfaction oozing from him.

“My, how fortunate I am to cross paths with you again !” He said like he isn’t the one to choose to sit next to you.

You stand there, speechless because — sure, as easy on the eyes he is and no matter how blessed you feel to be able to interact with him yet again — there’s a sense of wariness creeping up. First, it’s an unusual decision and then, poster boys are supposed to be only that : posters.

People to be admired and appreciated from afar with no hope for more, but also, no disappointment. You don’t doubt his pure intentions — or, do you — but you won’t be able to survive the rest of school if you develop real feelings for someone just because he lost his belongings.

Meanwhile, he resumes with the same tone as last time.

“You rushed so quickly last time. Did I happen to make you uncomfortable ?”

You snap out of your daze at his inquiry. On his face, there’s a little crease betraying the worry hidden behind his playful smirk and piecing two and two together, you’re quick to dismiss that thought.

“Oh, no, no, no ! I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just—“

Look, you’re out of the world. I had to squeal in the staircase due to cuteness overload. I rushed away because of the impending doom known as nosebleed. You’re the most ethereal person I ever met—

“—I had a severe need to go to the toilets. Lactose intolerant, you know how it is.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, your only wish is to curse yourself.

Let it be over with. There’s a heartbreaking silence — it’s painful, it’s terribly long and you’re too mortified to avert your eyes. His are ever-so slightly widened in surprise. A beat passes and his expressions morph into something deeply entertained.

“Of course,” he accepts easily with a khee he. “How could I compete with such urgent matters ?”

For a second, you think he’s making fun of you or that his tone is ironic and you somehow missed its obvious clue. However, the tilt of his voice is too open, too subtle — nothing judgmental, nothing hurtful. Far from it, he accepts your poor excuse.

His eyes doesn’t leave you. He knows that’s a lie and he’s having fun, it seems to convey.

“Now that my worries are put to rest, may I have the name of the person who escaped me so boldly?”

Your throat appears to dry up just a tiny bit at the toothy grin he punctuate his sentence with. It’s charming, he’s charming.

“Oh, I—“

“Lilia Vanrouge, I believe that is not your assigned seat, is it ?” Calls out Professor Trein across the room. “Kindly return to your designated place.”

Behind the grey-haired man, you catch sight of your annoyed desk mate, his beastman tail swishing impatiently. Without doubt, waiting for his seat to be returned to him. As your previous interlocutor — Lilia Vanrouge — stands up, Trein silently invites the Savanaclaw student to settle down.

“Ah, seems like I must be off. Farewell, stranger.” The Diasomnian huffs with a little laugh. “Oh, but do keep out an eye out for my wand, alright ? Still haven’t found that pesky thing.”

He rises with an effortless grace. The chair scrapes against the floor when he steps aside and without any rush whatsoever, gestures politely toward the place he had previously occupied to its rightful owner. A simple nod being the only exchanged between them.

The furniture rattles again as the beastman sits down.

“Hi,” you whisper with the timid quirk of a smile. “Sorry about that.”

The low grunt and slight twitch of ear dismiss your apology — not in an unkind manner however. And when Trein clears his throat, you’re quick to dip down to retrieve your stationary.

Yet, there’s something strange. Inside your bag, hidden in one of the inner pockets, a green shine — oddly bright, weirdly of a familiar nuance. You notice it under the supplies.

His wand.

Class is over and you still have no clue how his wand ended up in your belongings. By no means would you have taken by accident — since the beginning of your studies, yours is safely pocketed inside your jacket. Even if it had happened, it wouldn’t be at that location — much less stolen from him.

You’re smitten, not a creep.

At least, that’s a truth you’re ready to swear on your life for and that you know is… well, true. But will Lilia believe that, that’s an entire different matter.

“I must say, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” He express when you reach his desk, the last few classmates exiting.

Yet, quite the opposite, he looks like he did foresee your appearance. Far from taken aback, he welcomes your arrival with a happy bounce to his heels. You think you’re staring to better picture his personality : never surprised and always the one surprising. He acts like he can overcome every obstacles without flinching.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your lovely face ?”

Mission failed successfully. Your brain is melting and your cheeks, heating at his easy compliment. You do try to remain levelheaded but that’s a hard task when he calls you lovely.

“Hello…” You rummage through your pocket, careful of not grabbing the wrong item. At last, an unfamiliar shape graze your fingers and you present it. “After you left before, your wand… You were looking for it ?”

You hesitate for a brief moment to explain how you’ve come across it, not sure how you appear right now. Hopefully, not like a thief. But there’s no need, instead, his entire body perks up with excitement.

“Ah, you found it !” He exclaims, voice glittering with satisfaction. The expression he throws your way is appreciative and you find yourself mirroring the curve of his lips. “Where might have you found it ? Really, you have my gratitude, thank you.”

“With my stuff,” You reply with a chuckle, shoulders relaxing. “Well hidden but, I’m happy I could help.”

But the sound is met with... well, nothing. It hangs in the air, fades into silence and nothing to pick up the exchange. As the song goes, he looks at you and you look at him. There’s a twinkle of wonder.

"Where to then ? I do hope it's somewhere interesting."

Your eyebrows rise in utter confusion. For a moment, you believe you missed something he said.

"Surely, you don't expect me to let you leave without a proper thank-you ?" His voice lowers, the mischief laced with something undecipherable. "Let it be known : us, faes, take debts very seriously." He leans in. "And as I recall, our last conversation was cut short, wasn't it ?"

He's close.

Your breath only returns when he straightens, casualness erasing the previous traces of his tone. He folds his arms.

"So, where should we venture ?"

“No matter how many times I come here, I never seem to get tired of it.” He gestures at the outdoor space, orbs shining with something older. “So much colours, so much life — it really does bring the best out of the world doesn’t it ?”

The thrilling adventure you offer is a visit at the outside market. You note how unflattering your outfit is and how basic this activity is but it's not like there's much to do after school hours other than walking and maybe, walking again.

And although there wasn’t much doubt, getting the outspoken confirmation of his fae lineage has you slightly self-conscious about how you might appear. It all concerns how childish you may sound, how boring such item must be compared to his previous experiences, how little you are in the grander scheme of things.

To your relief though, it doesn't look like it bothers him. Your gaze softens. “Yes,” you murmur in turn, facing forward : in his presence, the constant and small apprehension fade. The occasional stuttering as well. “It’s like a different story told, right ? Everytime you come, it’s a tale waiting to be unraveled.” You only feel at ease.

When he cast a glance over — there’s no edge, no teasing. Just something akin to approval, something a bit softer. And just like that, a minor shift is made between you two. There’s no need to acknowledge it as it settles with your shared steps and the steady conversation.

He seems delighted by the husles and bustles of the street and lively chattings of passing customers一 sometimes, fellow students who come to unwind. From one street to another, from wooden toys to foreign kettles, he approaches each stand with similar energy 一 with curiosity and a story of his own. Tales of his time as a solo explorer or recent anecdotes in potionology, you absorb his words no matter.

It’s a different kind of lovely spectacle you’re subjected to : rather than distant, clean admiration, the vibrancy of the place further highlights Lilia’ liveliness. The skin you compared to dolls is kissed by sun; his red orbs are similar to candles whose flame dance to his laughter and his hair are perfect for small hairdos offered there.

“I once visited a kingdom in which the height which one poured hot tea from reflected the level of respect for th—“

“Didn’t you tell me this already, Lilia ?” Your joyful tone cut his story short. Though, he doesn’t take offense, eyebrows arching gracefully instead. The more you chat, the more smoothly his name rolled of your tongue : for your greatest satisfaction. His as well if you believe the deepening of his cheeky dimples. “Is this a way to push me to prepare you tea for next time ?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. But I’d much rather be the one to serve you,” he hums. “Naturally I’d pour from quite the height.“

“Smooth talker.”

But you feel giddy. Beyond the suave declarations, there's warmth, patience and mischievousness. That, you’re learning — rather than making you feel small — invites you in his larger world and takes the time to describe each details your eyes have yet to see.

He welcomes your errors and clumsiness with amusement. One void of judgement and cruelty, rather, full of spontaneity and fun like it’s the core of life. Sometimes, you complain at his teasings when he spooks you yet again behind the tapestry. Sometimes, you listen and learn how intricate his life has been 一 is — when you see metallic tools.

“Lilia, what is that ?” You ask, pointing curiously at a good you never saw before. The man floats over, magenta eyes taking in the circular item. Latitude lines and star positions adorn the bronze, it looks old but well taken care of.

“I believe that’s an astrolabe.” He guesses as the shopkeeper approaches you both. Accepting the tool from the woman’s hands, Lilia plucks at it with a weird familiarity.

“A wha— sorry, what ?”

“An astrolabe,” he reiterates. He gives a sidelong glance and lips stretches the more your confusion lengthen. “Trein mentioned it the other day when teaching about ancient navigation spells, were you not paying attention ?”

“Oh, I actually have no recollection, I must have been unfocused that day ?”

“It seems to be a recurring problem nonetheless — that distracted mind of yours. Would you like to share why ? I’m sure we can look for solutions, khee-he-he.”

“Oh— no, no, no, don’t worry. I already have what I need.” You sputter, caught lacking. At your flustered tone, his amusement is more explicit and he gestures you to come nearer.

“Well then. Come along, I’ll show you how an astrolabe works. Perhaps you’ll find it more entertaining outside of class.”

Explanations flow swiftly, you’re easily engrossed in the subject as you make no haste to leave the stand. When you resume your pace, it’s already an hour later with people starting to leave and wafting smells of food. It's nice and sevens, you would have never dared to strike conversation with him if he didn't lose his wand.

You’re lucky : he shares stories like each detail is a treasure and this evening alone feels like one.

You glimpse at a green shine laid on a table a few steps away — with the setting sun, the colour further catches your attention amidst the darker and duller products. This time, it is you who share an anecdote.

“In a country I visited younger once,” you say in a breath, catching his attention. Within the course of your outings, you learnt how sharp his hearing is. No matter the noises and yells, he always focuses on your words. “This plant was used to signify luck.”

A four-leaved clove, crooked and amateur — a handcrafted piece of jewellery, surely to decorate one’s jacket. You trace the outline with your index.

You take it and place it in the palm of his hand.

“It’s not a real one,” you clarify, feeling suddenly a bit hotter. “But I feel lucky to have been able to spend time and learn more about you. I hope we can do something similar again.” You exhale, then a shy smile tugs at your lips. “And I hope that one day, I can give you a real one.”

His eyes crinkles as he cradles your gift close to his torso. “How delightful.”

And it’s hard to know if he’s speaking about the good or your feelings.

Lilia Vanrouge is not a poster boy anymore.

Not to be mistaken, you still giggle when you share extensive eye contacts during classes. You openly gape when he looks really good 一 which, without surprise, happens at least once a week 一 and some daydreaming still include him.

There's a twist however. For each time a glance is reciprocated, a smile is carefully displayed behind your history books respectively. When his appearance strikes you, you reach out to compliment him, earning his gleeful appreciation and now, the time spent thinking about him in bed is significantly smaller than the time used to chat together.

Rather than being a spectator, you go out your way to seek his presence, taking the opportunities for iddle conversations and mindless teasings between classes. It feels nice to not be just an admirer anymore, to dare and be more.

You initially don’t have anything against hyping him from afar. But seeing him as he is : human, well… fae in his case, real, nuanced and flawed. The appreciation you hold for him is different, deeper, less idealistic and more…

(You’re not ready to find the word yet.)

You like to think this is a mutuel feeling as he took a liking to suddenly appearing nearby whenever strikes his fancy. No reason is needed to come and talk to you, just as no justification is necessary if it means scaring you. To be fair, that's more you ever daydreamed about.

But his friendship comes with terrible hardships. Horrific events happening at least once a day, weighing on both your mind and body. Your attempts are serious at turning a blind eye, to no avail.

There's a purple coloured meal on the threshold of your room.

Let's take a moment to repeat.

There's a purple coloured meal on the threshold of your room.

You really would like to announce how surprising that is, how intrigued you feel and maybe poetically delve into the turmoil of your emotions at that surprise gift.

You can't.

Because while he is nowhere to be seen, there’s no doubt about his culpability.

That fae is the only one capable of creating such monstrosity. Plus, it's the third time this week Lilia brings his food over like a cat bringing his prey to its owner. Exception being : he is no animal, probably hundreds of years old and if anyone dares to try and own him… he would probably own them first, prank them to death and find a way for their ghost to witness his singing.

You bend over, playing with the edge of the plate to inspect it further. Purple and green leaves looking incredibly moist and…moister, amidst some kind of soup. Sevens, does he know how to turn his food in anything other than mud doppelgänger— that’s honestly a genuine concern. Of course, no foil covers the dish. Ants are already making their way over for the buffet of their lives.

You do note the presence of a clean spoon to invite you to taste.

You suppress a sigh.

“No, I won’t eat this.” You declare without hesitation.

“Oh ?” A deeper voice express beside you, his shoulder almost touching yours. Lilia appears upside down in a pop of exaggerated enthusiasm, the green shine of the clove jewellery catching rays of sunshine. “Is it the colour ? The smell ? The texture ? Or do you fear the unknown?”

“It just pulses, Lilia,” you deadpan as you stand up, levelling his creation up to his gaze. “I don’t think food is supposed to do that.”

“Ah, but that’s what gives it character ! I assure you, among all that pulsed, only one turned sentient. You should be safe… probably.” You hear a chuckle.

“Right, because the previous one was safe maybe ?” A defensive line leaves your lips as you fold your arms, the food once put away. You frown lightly as the previous experience flows right back in mind. A breaded recipe whose hidden bones caused you to be bedridden for two days straight. “Should I remind you that because of that, I puked blood all night ?”

As supportive you can be, the repetitive culinary russian roulette bring its own hazard.

“Quite the souvenir ! You did give us quite the scare. But I disgress…” His tone is softer. “I only bring these because I worry. You always look exhausted. Stretched thin. I thought that maybe… I could help you make you feel fuller.”

He cast a sidelong glance. Your tensed shoulders lower slowly. Your impatience dissipate at the sincere motivation, the magenta orbs of his not helping one bit as you find once again losing yourself in it. There’s a pause.

“That’s sweet… but please, stop it.”

“Oh ?” His head tilts just a little but the laughter fades ever so slightly.

“Yes. If you really care,” Gracefully, he floats into your view, coming back to an upright position. Your words is firm but not unkind, you only hope he can discern it. “Do it in other ways. Aren’t you master at surprising people ?”

A blink then — he laughs gently. “Message received.” His smile is smaller but warmer. “I will find new ways to dote on you.”

Your lips quirk into a smirk.

“Surprise me, Lilia.”

Right, so. You have no idea how he decided to surprise you but it visibly entails to being dressed to the nines one banal thursday afternoon. Amidst the tired faces and worn out uniforms, it’s physically impossible to miss him.

Lilia stands in the middle of the courtyard. The usual attire doned by a charcoal ensemble and by the perfectly fitted fabric, the silver details adorning his cuffs as well as high collar, there’s something almost ceremonial about him. Almost princely, like straight out of a ancient painting — if it isn’t for his easy posture.

He’s deadly.

You’ve never seen him dressed like that.

And there’s something captivating about that : beyond the clothing style, the charm lies into how he’s dressed up. Intentionally dressed as if each folds and embroidery exist to captivate and impress. Oh, does it work well — he’s put together to kill.

Kill by beauty, probably.

Sharp as ever, he’s quick to notice your presence across. Ignoring the glances and whispers, he throws a toothy grin before appearing in front of you, heels clicking at the movement.

You blink at his appearance.

“Wow, you look… like you’ve come straight from Shoenheit’s personal closet.”

He imitates a grand introduction, bowing. The action completes his regal impression. It’s surprising but the way he carries himself with poise and confidence despite the odd period clash sells it all. “Why, thank you. I’ve been told ‘being dressed this cute healed the soul’ so I’ve decided to put that prescription to the test.” The smile he gives you is devastating. “So how is your soul ?”

Your heart pick up in pace, throat drying up lightly. There’s an obvious struggle to hide how flustered you are. “I— Oh, uh— Flourishing, really.”

You clear your throat, attempting to buy a few seconds to let your cheeks cool down. His eyes twinkle.

“But really, what’s the occasion ?”

“Who’s to tell ?” He first says with an easy shrug. “Maybe I merely wanted to look my best. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of someone special. Although, it would have been easier if you had caught all the signs. The meals, the longing stares, the karaoke — do you need more instances, dear ?”

“Sorry— aren’t you just friendly and naturally charming ?”

At your surprise, he openly laughs. You feel like that sentence is the most amusing of the day but he’s quick to put himself together, though his dimples are still there.

Ah, well.

“Mhm. That I am,” his voice drops lower. He gets closer to you with a slow pace and the tilt of his head. “But I’m also curious. And I’ve been wondering how long will you need to take the hint, for the past months.”

“What hint ?“ You feel his breath mingling with yours.

“The one that ends like this,” he whispers. “When is our second date ?”

[scribbles-here]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 જ⁀➴♡

— overblot gang : x gn!reader. dividers: uzmacchiato

note: Hi, it's been a while. Sorry for not posting. I've been struggling a lot in the past few months. I'll talk about it in a separate post, but WOOO My 100th post!!

Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚

Hyper-aware of you at all times. When he’s in love, everything you do suddenly seems so much more important to him. What you’re doing, how you're feeling, but tries to pretend he's not watching you like a hawk.

He panics internally whenever you're upset, thinking he failed you somehow. He won’t always know how to comfort you, but he’ll try so hard, fumbling through awkward pats, stammered words, and eventually hugging you tightly while whispering, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry… I can’t bear it.”

Has tea dates ready down to the sugar cube. Every single detail is thought out when you’re involved— teacup chosen based on what he thinks suits your mood, snacks that don’t crumble too much so your fingers stay clean, etc.

Acts awkward when trying to be sweet. If he wants to compliment you, he fumbles over it. “You look… adequate— no, I meant to say pleasant! Is that acceptable? Wait—uh.”

He secretly wants physical closeness. He yearns to hold your hand, but would combust if you actually did. Expect him to brush your fingers “on accident” when passing you tea or opening a door.

The moment he realizes he’s truly in love, He starts wondering not just how you fit into his world, but how he can become someone worthy of belonging in yours.

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

Love softens him. His rough edges remain, but there's a quiet protectiveness in everything he does now. He pulls you closer while napping, walks on the side closest to danger, grumbles about others bothering you, but does it anyway.

He speaks to you in a gentle, almost soothing tone that contrasts sharply with his interactions with others. When he's comfortable in your presence, his voice takes on a velvety quality, almost like a soft purr.

Does thoughtful things without making a big deal of them. Your favorite drink? It’s in your hands before you knew you needed it. Someone bothering you? He stares them down until they leave.

He performs acts of service, like fixing your uniform, carrying heavy items, and giving you piggyback rides when you're tired. He focuses on making your life easier without expecting thanks.

Let you win in small things. Whether it's a game of chess, cards, or even playful sparring, he intentionally lets you take the lead. With a grin that hints at his mischief, he skillfully holds back, allowing you to claim victories in these small skirmishes, though he would never confess that he’s going easy on you—after all, that would spoil the fun.

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

Terrified of his own feelings at first. He’ll try to logically dissect his emotions like a contract clause until he finally realizes “I’m completely, hopelessly in love with them.”

Buys your affection—but sincerely. Anything to earn your praise, spoiling you rotten with luxurious gifts, gourmet meals, and perfectly planned dates at sea. But beneath it all, he’s starved for affection—a touch on his cheek, a hand through his hair, and he melts.

Gives you discounts at the lounge, and by discounts, I mean “accidentally gives you everything for free.” He'll offer you “special deals” just so he can see you more often. He gives you freebies, bends the contract rules, and always finds a way to make time for you.

He’s touch-starved but doesn’t initiate. When you hug him? Kiss his cheek? Slip your hand into his? He stares like you’ve cast a powerful spell. He never expects it, but he craves it. And eventually, he’ll shakily start reaching out first, just a little.

Turns into a stuttering, blushing wreck when you compliment him genuinely. He can take flattery from strangers. But you? It’s over.

Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚

Is 100% in denial at first. He tries to hide his feelings for a long time—he’s used to being in the background, and he doesn’t want to feel vulnerable.

Starts cooking your favorite foods without even asking. The moment he hears you like something? It's on the menu.

Subtly adjusts your schedule to protect your health. Did you forget lunch? Suddenly, Jamil's handing you a lunch. Overworking? He drags you outside to “run errands” (a walk to get some fresh air).

Makes excuses to be near you. “I was passing by.” “You forgot your notebook.” “Do you need help studying?” He’s smooth, even when flustered.

Gets extremely jealous, but it’s quiet. His smile tightens. He stares a bit too long. And later that night, he’ll whisper, “Don’t make me watch you smile at someone else like that again, it drives me crazy.”

Jamil doesn’t show grand romantic gestures—but when he offers you his hoodie or lets you nap in his room, know this: you’ve touched a part of him he thought no one would ever reach.

Vil Schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚

When he’s in love, he stares at you with such focus, like you’re a masterpiece. His compliments come rarely but powerfully “You’re breathtaking tonight,” spoken in a voice low and sincere.

Fixes your hair or collar without saying anything. Smooths it down, tucks it back, all while scolding you for not being “presentation-ready.”

Wants to be your muse and your mentor. He’ll teach you how to do skin care or pose for a photo, but he’s also watching you with a soft expression the whole time.

Your presence becomes part of his routine. Face masks for two, helping him memorize lines, dressing you up in elegant clothes because “you deserve to feel like royalty too"

Gets visibly annoyed when others flirt with you. You can see the irritation on his face whenever someone flirts with you. “Are they blind?” he grumbles. “You’re clearly in a league of your own!”

When he looks at you, his demeanor softens; his smile transforms into something genuine and warm, made just for you, away from the cameras and the spotlight.

He doesn’t tolerate others looking down on you. If someone dares to insult you, he’ll destroy them with a single look—and then tell you calmly, “Don’t listen to nonsense from those beneath you.”

Publicly, he’s poised, elegant, and graceful. But alone with you? He lets down his hair, takes off the makeup, and leans into your shoulder with tired sighs. You’re his safe space where perfection isn’t needed.

Idia Shroud ༉⋆｡˚

He does things terrifyingly out of character. For you? He will go outside more. He’ll show up to a club event. He’ll make an appearance in person if it means you’ll smile at him. Every time he steps out of his comfort zone, he’s basically emotionally flatlining inside.

Hyperfixates on what you like. You mention a show in passing? He’s watched the whole season. Favorite snack? It’s now stocked in his room.

His hair gives him away. Even if he’s trying to be cool, one compliment from you and his hair flares pink like a sparkler. It’s like having a live feed of his feelings. He hates it but can’t help it.

When you visit his room, he clears a space for you, adjusts the lighting to your liking, and will nervously show you his projects. If you praise him, he’ll go red from his neck to his ears.

He’s incredibly clingy in private. Not emotionally suffocating — but he loves touch when it’s safe. Playing with your fingers. Sitting next to you until your thighs are pressed together. Lying in your lap while he rambles about obscure lore. If you stroke his hair, he’ll fall asleep with the softest smile on his face.

Malleus Draconia ༉⋆｡˚

He wants to protect your smile like a treasure. If something bothers you? It’s gone. If you’re sad? He will spend hours learning how to fix it, even if it means asking Lilia for advice or studying human courtship rituals.

He shows his love through constancy. He always arrives when you need him, even without a word. Appears in the rain with an umbrella. Hovers in the corner of a room because he sensed your mood shift. You don’t even have to call — he knows.

He watches you like you’re a miracle. He’ll listen to you talk about your day with a fond, still smile, like every word is precious. “You’re even more fascinating than the stars,” he’ll say with no irony at all.

He remembers everything. You hate the cold? He’ll warm the path you walk. That you laugh at certain folklore? He’ll tell you all the versions he knows. That you like stars? He’ll conjure an entire sky for you to walk under.

He finds joy in your joy. He was so used to being feared or tiptoed around. When you smile at something silly or laugh loudly at a dumb pun, he lights up.

He takes forever seriously. When he’s in love, Malleus isn’t planning a school romance — he’s planning centuries. A life with you, in every world, in every version of time. “You may grow older. I may outlive time itself. But if you wish it, I will always remain by your side.”

[scribbles-here]

COURTING YOU? SINCE WHEN?! Featuring Diasomnia!

requested ask from here!!!!

While courting, crocodiles can be surprisingly tender, involving much touching of snouts, rubbing of necks, blowing of bubbles and resting of heads on each other’s backs.

Sebek Zigvolt! Whose face grew crimson at your utter lack of decorum, as he so nicely put it, when you’d fallen asleep on his back after one of Vargas’s more tiring lessons - what? You’d groaned, ignoring all of his minimal at best attempts to push you off, further curling into him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck, completely oblivious to the poor first-year’s inner turmoil. You insolent little -! Fine, he’d allow just this once. (Lies. He wouldn’t mind even if you did it daily.) Calloused hand now usually placed against the back of your neck while walking, fingertips pressed against your nape, so gently, almost like he was afraid holding onto you too tightly would shatter you, all while his posture remained ramrod straight and face flushed a pretty pink, as if he was embarrassed from doing something intimate…oh well, you wouldn’t expect any less from your favourite emotionally constipated croc <33 Running up to you one day brandishing two bubble wands like they were swords, loudly complaining about the brainless humans(who really were just confused onlookers wondering why the two of you were blowing bubbles at the courtyard), before immediately flipping and complimenting your excellent bubble-blowing form(red-eared all the while, waving his bubble wand back and forth like he was doing something important. Cute.) Stiffly asking one day if he had permission, permission to what, exactly, you weren’t so sure but hey - why not? Steeling yourself for whatever Sebek had in store for you, only for something hard to bump rather awkwardly into your forehead, another thing pressed against your nose… eh? His hands cradled carefully around your face to rub his nose against yours, so positively red you couldn’t help but giggle - a bad decision, on your part, because you quickly lost your footing and fell onto the grass, sending poor Sebek tumbling down with you(Whatever, it wasn’t like he cared that much, anyway - not when you were laughing like that, eyes ceased at the corners and cheeks ruddy). Barging into your room for the umpteeth time the next week, a hint of nervousness in his tone - “Lilia has arranged a meeting with you. It is only expected of him - my parents are currently unavailable to assess my mate, so he will do it in their stead. Pardon? Of course, I’m referring to you! Have you gone mad?” Madly oblivious, sure, but hey - a boyfriend’s a boyfriend, especially since it was your fav croc ;)

While courting, bats will douse themselves with perfume, sing or scream to express desire, as well as engage in mutual grooming and wing-flicking.

Lilia Vanrouge! Whose grin widened like a Cheshire's when you invited him out for an impromptu karaoke session, and even more so when he caught a whiff of your new perfume - “My, my, how bold ~” …eh? Resting his chin on closed fists, as he watched you belt out a popular song with a sickeningly dreamy look in his eyes, before choosing his own song with all the seriousness of an army general leading his troops to war, cheerfully screeching into the karaoke mic death metal, beaming at you with a proud grin after the song ended(well, Cater did mention he liked metal, so this probably wasn’t out of the ordinary, right?). Dousing himself with copious amounts of strong perfume right before attending any of his classes that you were in to the point that the entirety of Diasomnia knew what the two - mostly one - were up to, sending you looks of mild annoyance whenever they caught you and Lilia walking by(“Just say yes already, i don’t know how much more of this lovey-dovey nonsense I can stand -“ “There’s a betting pool if you’re interested -“ “Oh, really?”). Unexpectedly rough hands becoming touchier and grabby with you, if possible, now always semi-permanently glued to your body, whether it be simply running his fingers through your hair(oh-so gently brushing out knots or the occasional tangle with the care so unlike his usual reckless demeanour, almost like he was worried pulling a little too sharply would harm you) or barging randomly into your dorm for impromptu self-care nights, armed with face masks from Pomefiore and a old movie in hand(eyes gazing into yours a little too adoringly when you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder halfway through, fingertips brushing a stray lock of hair back, humming sweetly as he draped a blanket over your shoulders - he’d have to rummage through your kitchen to prepare you a wonderful meal when you woke up…he was sure you wouldn’t mind too much, now <33 Face turning a shade of pink he would have giggled at when you decided to surprise him by randomly appearing from behind and almost screaming his name, his raspberry-red eyes widened in delight, voice awed and nearly breathless, taking your hands in his, with a stupidly lovestruck look in his eyes - “Does this mean… you’ve finally accepted me? Oh, I should tell Silver right away! He’d be delighted to have another parent - hm? Did you really think we’d become mates without me introducing you to my family? Goodness beastie, what a funny thought! Come along now, you can meet the rest over dinner!” :))))

While courting, dragons may offer their potential mate treasures from their own hoard, as well as show displays of power to win their affection. Inviting their potential mate to their hoard is considered to be a sacred act, as well as an agreement to the courtship.

Malleus Draconia! Who had been acting even more socially inept than usual - awkwardly offering you gems and necklaces and brooches which you were sure cost more than you could ever spend in your lifetime, right next to delicately carved stone gargoyles(that took you quite a while to find a place for, but no worries), along with frequently alarming actions that anyone else would’ve been scared of - such as Malleus nearly flooding the school after you tried to get up from your lunch table to get water, Malleus snapping a tree cleanly in half after Rook had been ‘observing’ the two of you, Malleus stepping on your keychain which had fallen off your bag, causing him to despair and cause rainstorms for three days… ah, good times, good times(and probably nothing more to the way his emerald green eyes seemed to glisten at you when you told him that breaking your keychain was fine, since it was an accident, and such a small thing wouldn’t deter you from being his friend… yeah, probably nothing.) Inviting you out to visit his room one day with a rare flush to his pale cheeks, pointed ears reddened to their tips - odd, but this was a normal friend activity, right?? Flushing an even deeper shade of scarlett when you admired his hoard collection of pennants and souvenirs gifted to him from Lilia, happily recounting all of the outlandish stories he’d been told by him as he grew up, eyes blown wide like a surprised cat’s after you’d told him you’d love to experience those places, places he’d only ever heard of since birth, with him - “Did you… did you really mean that?” Avoiding your gaze like an embarrassed schoolgirl all of a sudden, usually composed face tinted pink, something so worrying you couldn’t help but reach out to touch his cheek, just to check in case of an odd fae illness - something which only led to Malleus staring at you like a particularly strange animal, only for him to sigh(dreamily?) and lean into your warm touch, closing his eyes shut. (He really was sick, then. He had to be. After all, his body temperature was oddly hot, and his pulse seemed to be growing faster by the minute.) Humming a new tune - a song Lilia used to sing for him when he was young, apparently - the day after, appearing in your front door like he’d been summoned, lips curling upwards the minute he’d since your face, in all its just-woken-up-bedheaded glory. “Ah, there you are, my dear. I’ve already informed Lilia of our relationship, and he has approved. Though, those senators seem less… excited about our future, but no matter. We should leave for Briar Valley in a few days time - I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after meeting my lovely future head consort in person, and if not… well, I’ll simply just have to do some convincing.” ;)))

BONUS:

While courting, humans don't usually rest on each other’s backs, scream to profess their love, nor do they typically invite potential mates to their hoard - but neither were they raised and surrounded by fae, so Silver certainly was a different case altogether.

Silver! Who had decided to ask his fellow peers for advice on how to properly court you - hence, Sebek. “INTIATE INTIMATE TOUCH!” was his junior’s advice, which turned out…okay. His original plan of going on a walk in the forest together had been a massive fail, falling asleep on a bench when you’d asked to take a break - his head perched on your shoulder, long eyelashes fluttered shut, near silent snores escaping his barely opened lips. (Not like you minded much. Silver falling asleep on you was becoming a common occurrence, the more you spoke to him.) His second attempt at wooing you coming directly from his fa - Lilia, himself - to invite you out for a karaoke date. Which was fun - until Silver’s song of choice came on, a song Lilia had strongly recommended to ‘properly show them you’re interested’… a decision he’d later come to regret, after being hit in the face with heavy bass and its singer letting out an unholy shriek. Though he did try his best to sing along, which turned out… interesting. His voice hoarse from all that screaming and shouting, leading to him being confined to his room due to his unbearably sore throat, sighing wistfully and staring out his window, watching the blue birds chirp and squirrels climb up trees, deep in thought…(why wasn’t any of his courting methods working? Should he ask Kalim for help next?) Jolting up when Malleus barged in, in his own polite way, smiling from ear to ear as he spoke,”Your beloved has arrived with soup. I believe they are here to assist you. Lilia has already let them in. Good luck.” Face tinted a soft pink when you sat down on his bed and offered him a flask of chicken soup(that he was extremely grateful for, after politely refusing Lilia’s many attempts to feed him his strange concoctions), auroral eyes locked onto your gaze, so intently focused on you that he tipped over the thermos of soup, apologising over and over as he felt you do a once-over on him, fingertips lightly patting him down, eyes scanning him for injuries. “I love you.” The words escaping his mouth before he could stop himself, eyes blown open by his own directness, even more so when you flushed a shade of pink he found absolutely charming, reciprocating his feelings. Wait…really? Smiling giddily like an idiot after you’d accepted his confession, opening the door to walk you back to your dorm, only to see Lilia, Sebek and Malleus to tumble out, presumably listening in to the entire thing. Looking up at you with an apologetic smile, holding onto your hand just a little bit tighter, as if trying to reassure you -“I hope you weren’t too surprised… they might be a little much, but it's okay, because i love you, and I’m sure they’ll love you just as much as i do.” :))))

hey, if you liked this… check out Savannaclaw’s or Octavinelle’s versions?

alternatively; check out the Diasomnia masterlist?

[scribbles-here]

Dating in a Dream - Leona Kingscholar

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar x Reader 🦁🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda); Kiss; Flirting; A little angst; A reader with attitude

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Leona’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 7.380 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

The reader is gender neutral but I use king/queen so you can choose how you prefer to read. When Leona calls the reader 'Queen' specifically, he is comparing the reader to the chess piece.

I also write Neji/Kifaji, you can choose which of the name you prefer to read, the original or the English server version

I hope you enjoy 🦁

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / Kalim / Jamil / Floyd / Jade / Azul / Jack / Ruggie / (Leona) / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

You, Grim, Silver, Sebek, Ortho, Azul, Jack, Ruggie and Idia’s tablet reach the next dream and you land back in the Sunrise City, the capital of Sunset Savanna, just like in Ruggie's dream.

Checking on everyone after dream crossing, Ruggie was fine, and everyone else looked fine with the exception of Azul, who was feeling dizzy and sick. Silver suggests you all get some rest and get some cool drinks to recover. Ruggie says that, because he's the only guy familiar with the area, he would grab some bottles of water or tea from one of the shops nearby, and Jack offers to help him carry everything.

However, that's when they notice something strange. That was supposed to be the busiest and most crowded part of the capital, but... there was less foot traffic, fewer cars, no stalls at all, and every place that sells drinks had its shutters drawn.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” Ruggie approaches someone to try to find out what was going on. “Could I ask you something?”

“Yes?” the lady says, but as soon as she looks at Ruggie: “Eep, a hyena!”

“What? A hyena?!” Another person is startled too. “There's no food left here! Please, just go away!”

They all ran into their homes and locked the doors. Ruggie assures you all that he did nothing wrong. The city is clearly more desolated than it was in Ruggie's dream. You talk for a bit, wondering what kind of dream would Leona be having. You decide to go to the royal palace, since Leona was one of the princes of Sunset Savanna there was a good chance of finding him there. After making sure Azul felt better and was ready to walk, he stood up and you all changed into your school uniforms. You were about to start walking towards the palace when you heard someone saying your name.

“King/Queen (Y/N)?” A child calls you, weakly.

You turn around and see a little beastchild looking at you with sad and begging eyes. When she sees your face, recognizing you, a smile appears and she run to you to hug your legs.

“Please, your majesty! Do something!” The beastchild begs you, crying and sobbing. “We are so hungry...” the child's tummy rumbles. “Make King Leona give our food back. Please!”

You didn't know what to do, there was so much information and it was such a sad sight. At that moment, the child's mother comes to you and grabs the child, taking her from your legs.

“I am deeply sorry, Your Highness.” The lady tells you, also with sadness in her eyes. “We know you can't do anything.” She doesn't say this in an accusatory way, but as if you were in the same situation. “We know you're trying your best. We know... the herds have moved on.” She looked at you differently when she said this last sentence, as if it meant something more. She bows to you. “Have a safe return home, Your Grace.” The beastwomen turns to leave with the child in her arms.

“Okay, now that the crisis is over...” Ruggie begins by saying calmly. “KING/QUEEN (Y/N)?!” He shouts in disbelief. “King Leona?! Bring back their food? What the heck just happened?!”

“We can discuss this on the way.” Sebek says. “We have to get to that palace AND FAST!”

You all head to the palace while deciphering what you heard from the beast child and the beast woman. The child called Leona king and both she and her mother called you king/queen and your highness. The only explanation was that you were married to Leona in that dream. When they reached this conclusion, everyone looked at each other, especially Jack, Ruggie, Azul and Ortho.

“Leona...?” Azul said with a smile slowly forming as he was holding back. “Leona Kingscholar? In love with a herbivore?” He wasn't making fun of you, he was just quoting Leona himself. “To the point of... hehe, dreaming that he is... married to them?... ha haha HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

He started laughing, but he wasn't the only one, Ortho was laughing too and even Ruggie. That even caught Idia's attention, who had been distracted until that moment doing research.

“I can't believe it!” Idia says through the tablet, with that mocking voice that he certainly wouldn't have the courage to use in front of Leona. “The big, imposing, Oresama type macho man whose romantic interest is the poor, weak, isekaied person with a soft heart?! HAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, my diaphragm is starting to hurt, hahaha!”

“Man, not even I was even expecting this!” Ruggie says. “But I KNEW something was up! Shyeheehee.”

Only Jack, Sebek and Silver weren't laughing. Quite the contrary, they seemed to be respectfully silent. Jack even seemed to want to smile a little, not a mocking smile, but because he thought that this could be one of the parts of Leona that he admired. Both he and Sebek positioned themselves in such a way as to create a barrier between you, in front of them, and the others who were laughing behind them.

Arriving at the royal palace's front entrance, you didn't encounter a single guard. Ruggie says that normally the lionesses have the whole place locked down tight. Which must mean that something was definitely up in the royal palace.

“Knowing that would give me reservations about simply walking in through the front door.” Azul says. “But since we are in the company of Your Majesty (Y/N)...” He smiles.

You then hear some strange laughter. Quite scary ones. After so many dreams, your team members automatically form in front of you to protect you when things like this happen. Jack and Sebek were now between you and the laughing people.

“Well, well, well. What have we got here?” A hyena beastman says, accompanied by others like him and all wearing the same type of what looked like a traditional guard’s or fighter's outfit.

“Hmm, I dunno.” Another hyena beastman says. “What do you think?”

“These guys couldn't be more obviously delinquent if they tried.” Jack comments. “Are they actually guardsmen?”

“They're dressed in the uniform of the Sunset Warriors, the king's personal team of guardians...” Ruggie explains.

“Wait...” Azul thinks to himself. “If they are the king's personal guardians, then... (Y/N).” He turns to you. “If you truly are part of the royal family, then these brutes will listen to you. They have to listen to you. Try to talk to them, but with confidence, this is very important. Remember, you are the King/Queen.” He smiles smugly.

You gather your courage and take a few steps forward, passing by the boys who were between you and the royal guards.

“Hehehehe! Looks like one of you is eager to be our dinner. Dyah hah hah!”

“I order you to let us pass!” You demand. “Me and my guests!”

“Oh yeah? And who do you think you... wait... you...” They smell the air to better understand your scent and finally be sure. “HEEEP! Y-y-y-your Majesty! We didn't know. W-we thought they were trespassers!”

“PLEASE FORGIVE US!” Everyone bows to you.

You say you forgive them for now and that now that they know who you and the others are they will let you pass... right?

“Hum... We are very sorry, Your Highness, but...” they didn't seem that sorry, a little smile even began to form on their faces. “King Leona ordered us not to let anyone in with you. No matter who it was.”

“What?! Why?”

“Oh, we don't question him, your highness. If it's something between you two, we would never intrude hehehe.”

One of them, who appears to be the leader, pulls you by the hand and hands you over to two other guards. As gently as possible for someone who is pulling you against your will.

“Take them inside!” He orders them. “We'll send the unwelcome guests away.”

And so the guards take you by the arms almost like a prisoner, but with much more care so as not to hurt you.

Once you passed through the doors, you had no more reason to fight against the guards. So they released you and escorted you down the hallway until you crossed paths with someone else.

“Ah, your highness. Welcome back.” An old man with blue and white hair and beard, wearing round glasses greets you with a genuine smile. “How was your walk? Hmm? Are those new clothes? I don't think I've ever seen you in them. But please, don't get me wrong, they look very good on you.”

The guards tell him that they found you outside with foreigners, and they even make up a story that they saved you from them, who were trying to kidnap you during your walk. During this, you hear them calling the old man Neji/Kifaji. As soon as you start saying that part was a lie, the old man automatically believes you.

“Cease you absurdity!” Neji/Kifaji scolds the guards. “I know what orders King Leona gave you. *sigh* You can leave King/Queen (Y/N) with me. You may go back to your posts now.”

The guards nod and turn to leave. However, you notice that they don't seem to have as much respect for Neji/Kifaji as they probably should.

“You were saying that the guards were lying about the foreigners wanting to kidnap you.” He returns to the subject calmly and in an understanding tone. “But you said it was true that you were with a group of people. Do you mind if I ask who they were?”

You tell him that they were your friends and he smiles sadly.

“Friends of yours? Well, it would be a pleasure to welcome them and see you enjoying yourself...” The smile fades, giving way to a slight frown. “If it weren't for your husband's paranoia.”

“Paranoia? Are you talking about that order not to let anyone in with me?”

“That is just the most recent one. I wonder how he knew your friends were coming. Either way... *sigh* I'm deeply sorry, Your Majesty. I believe this was not the life you imagined when you married Prince Leona. Being a king/queen of a country in ruins and without food to feed its people.”

This reminds you of that beastchild who recognized you and hugged you, asking you to help them have food again. You tell him this and it made him decide to go and have a talk with Leona again, to  try to put some sense in his head once more. But not right now. He'll do it later, after he helps you prepare your royal clothes for you to change into. After all, those black clothes must be very hot in Sunset Savanna, no?

You change into a beautiful suit/dress (whatever you prefer) and only after you're ready do you realize that Neji/Kifaji took advantage of you changing clothes to go and have that conversation with Leona.

You follow the voices until you find the two in the throne room, but you don't go in yet. Instead, you stay in a hidden corner, listening.

“Your majesty, you are the only one who can save this kingdom now.” Neji/Kifaji says. “The former king succumbed to illness after many long years, then His Highness Falena and his family were lost in as unexpected accident...”

“Don't bring that up.” You see Leona, wearing an elegant brown suit with gold necklaces and rings. His hair looked different too, his bangs pulled back. “That was a tragedy.” You also see for a moment the dreamer's silver bird around his head. “Not only did we lose my brother, but we even lost little Cheka... Just remembering it makes me want to cry.”

It's hard to decipher if he's just saying it for the sake of it, or if his words are sincere and he's hiding his true feelings with his disinterested attitude.

“Yes, and you became king in the midst of that tragedy and turmoil.”

“Grudgingly. I never wanted the crown.”

“‘I will work through my grief and push onward to the dawn of a new era.’” Neji/Kifaji reminds Leona. “‘I will work hand in hand with my people for peace and prosperity, paving the way to a glorious future.’ That was what you said in your coronation day. Did you mean a single word of that?”

“Excuse me?” Leona says, still unbothered. “I kept my word and paved the way to the future, didn't I?”

Basically, Leona did what he promised, but literally. He pushed through rapid development over the warning of experts and the objections of his people. The plant life has withered, the water's polluted, the wildlife has vanished and there is nothing left to eat or drink. This makes Leona say that he is not like his father and brother, that he would never cater to fools that cling to outdated traditions and customs.

“Your Majesty, you speak too harshly.” Neji/Kifaji says. “The development plan you envisioned was revolutionary, I'll grant you that. But it was out of touch with reality. It simply wasn't possible to implement that plan in the nation we lived in.”

Leona is silent for a second, thinking about what he just said.

“Yes, my plan itself was perfect. Who was it that ruined that perfect plan? The incompetent citizens, that's who. Who are they to complain nonstop when they have no chops of their own?”

“Your Majesty, they're people, not pawns. They vary wildly in capabilities and personalities. They act of their own volition. As king, you should have accepted that and worked with them.”

“What? Why would I work with incompetent idiots? You must be joking. I did everything I said I would. the rest of you better figure it out from here. The last thing I need is to go around cleaning up after idiots.”

Neji/Kifaji accuses Leona of abdicating all responsibility but he defends himself by presumptuously saying that he only offers his leadership to those capable of perfectly carrying out his ideals.

“I've had enough of incompetent fools.”

“You keep speaking of incompetence...” Neji/Kifaji proceeds. “But have you ever recognized a single person other that yourself as competent?!”

Leona doesn't respond.

“Not even your own spouse?”

“What did you say?” Leona gets angry again, but this time it's different.

“Your spouse.” Neji/Kifaji repeats. “Do you also see them as one of your chess pieces? Present just to serve you?”

“Hm he he. Indeed, they are also one of my pieces.” He smirks. “But you're mistaken if you think I only have pawns around me.”

“Oh, yes?” Neji/Kifaji smils slightly, for the first time. “Are they really your queen on this board?”

“Who else would I marry if not a true queen?” Leona smiles smugly.

“Heh heh. The Queen is the most powerful piece in chess. More powerful even than the King itself... is that how you truly see (Y/N)?” He smirks at Leona.

“That would be stretching it too far. Don't put words in my mouth. And Neji/Kifaji... ” The smirk disappeared and Leona glared threatening at him. “If you dare to insinuate that again... I'll fry you up right at the spot and make you be served as our next meal.”

At that moment, they and you hear a commotion outside the palace. You look out the window nearest you and see a crowd complaining that there is nothing left for them there, not even food.

“And I thought things were bad under Falena!” You see Ruggie saying among the crowd. “This is so much worse!” The other Protestants agree. “But it doesn't have to be! Give the leadership to King/Queen (Y/N)!”

“We want King/Queen (Y/N)! King/Queen (Y/N)! King/Queen (Y/N)!”

“Buncha loudmouths idiots...” Leona complains. “This is a monarchy, not a democracy. They'd have to get rid of me first. Heh, as if.” He turns to Neji/Kifaji. “Speaking of which, where is (Y/N)?”

“I left them to change their clothes before coming here, Your Majesty.”

“Change clothes? Did they go for a walk again? What have they been up to?”

“That is unknown to me. They returned safe and sound, that's the only thing that concerns me.”

“Liar! You are covering for them... Well, the people are calling for them.” He smirks. “You better go get them.”

“There is no need.” You say, finally entering the throne room and revealing yourself dressed in your royal attire. “I’m here.”

The people continue to protest.

“Ugh... so annoying. How's a guy supposed to nap like this? Get out there and make them pipe down, Neji/Kifaji. Part of a grand chamberlain's job is ensuring their kings/king and queen can live in comfort. I'll do as I see fit. After all, I am still the king.” He smirks.

“Yes, sire. You are still the king.”

“Now get outta here. You're bothering me.”

He withdraws to obey his king's orders.

“And you come with me.” Leona tells you. “We need to talk and that's impossible here with so much noise.”

He walks to the exit of the throne room, into the hallway, and you follow him.

Leona takes you to a large and luxurious living room. You can no longer hear the protests, and when he closes the doors, it seems like a relaxing silence invades the space.

Leona sighs with relief and slumps his shoulders, then he walks to one of the sofas and collapses onto it. Sitting, not lying down. Then he looks at you lazily and beckons you with his finger to sit next to him.

You do so, and as he had his arms stretched out over the backrest, he puts one of them around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. You thought he would complain to you about the Protestants but... He stays silent, just hugging you with one arm while you rest your head on his chest.

“Did you hear?” He finally says after some time, in a worn out tone. “They want you.”

You don't say anything. You don't even know what to say. He looks so much more exhausted than before he walked through that door.

“I know about your rebels.” He says without changing his tone.

“My rebels?”

“The herds have moved on...” He quotes, the same phrase that the mother of that beastchild told you. “It’s your secret phrase. To recognize each other. You created a group against me.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” You straightened up with no difficulty, since he didn't even try to stop you. “Why would I do such a thing?”

“You heard them.” He looks at you with disdain. “They want you to lead them. To take the throne.” He leans toward you like a predator stalking its prey. “To take my place.”

“That's what they want. Why would I want it?”

He pauses and remains in thoughtful silence for a second.

“Why did you want to marry me?” He asks you without emotion in his voice.

“What? I-”

“You were the one who asked me to be your boyfriend, and then to marry you... You appeared here, coming from nowhere, alone, lost and with nothing, not even magic.” He gets closer and closer, speaking through growls, making you slide across the sofa. “We sheltered you in our palace to help you and what have you done?” The pull of your clothes on the sofa fabric doesn't allow you to move very far, and you end up lying down with him on top of you with threatening eyes and teeths. “You made me fall in love with you, marry you, to then steal my throne!”

“Don't be stupid!” You tell him without fear. “Why the heck would I want your throne?! Especially now. Do I look like I want to clean up your mess?”

His face remains frighteningly angry and he growls at you, but you don't seem the least bit concerned anymore. He brings his face close to yours as if he wants to bite you, but then he simply lies down with his head on your chest.

“Heh heh, it was more fun messing with you in the beginning.” He returned to his lazy, laid-back tone in less then a second. “I know why these people are protesting to have you as their ruler.”

“You do?”

He doesn't answer you right away, he just whispers after a few seconds.

“You’re the Queen.”

“What?” You really weren't sure you heard correctly.

He rises, stretching his arms, but still on top of you. His gaze has changed. It's calm, and you might even risk calling it loving.

“You’re the Queen.” He repeats. “That's what I told Neji/Kifaji. The most powerful piece in chess.” The trace of the smile he had disappears and he sighs. “Stronger than the King itself.”

He gets off of you and sits back down on the couch. He gives you his hand to help you sit down next to him too.

“Of course they like you.” He gets up and starts walking to a window. “I'm the guy who left them without food, without water, who destroyed their home.” He stops in front of the window, looking at the dark landscape. “And you're the kind person who listens to them, who comforts them, who wants the best for them.” He wasn't speaking for himself, he was speaking out what he believed his subjects thought. “The poor, golden-hearted herbivore who's trapped with the tyrant.” He smirks. “Heh heh heh. I wouldn't even be surprised if you were completely clueless about what's going on with these protests.” The next words he whispers so you don't hear. “You always had a way of bringing people together... Stronger than the king himself...”

While he was talking at the window with you still on the sofa, you received a message. Leona didn't notice, and when you looked, it was a message from Idia telling you not to try to wake Leona up alone because it could be dangerous for you while you were away from the rest of the group. They would return to the palace again the next day with a plan. Until then, you should just try to stay safe.

He turns away while yawning loudly and you quickly put your phone back away.

“I'm tired. I need a nap.”

He walks towards you, sits on the sofa where you are, a little away, turns around and lies down with his head in your lap and eyes closed. He opens one of his eyes to look at you and smirks.

“You still get flustered by this? Heh heh. Cute... What? It's not like you have anythin’ better to do, right?”

He closes his eye again and relaxes. You look at his ears and decide to take a chance and pet them like you would a cat. And he doesn't complain, quite the opposite, he smiles slightly without opening his eyes and melts at your touch. After a moment, he turns to hug your waist and continue sleeping.

Before dinnertime, Leona separates from you. You start to get hungry and go looking for him or Neji/Kifaji and he is the one you find in one of the corridors. He greets you with a smile, but sighs when you ask him about dinner.

“My apologies, your majesty, but there is no more food in the palace. No meat or vegetables. Not even water.”

That was really worrying and then you remember to ask about Leona.

“King Leona walked away from you as dinner time approached? *Sigh* He probably didn't have the courage to face you. Seeing his spouse hungry and unable to provide them with food... Not even his pride can handle so much.”

“Watch your beak!” A voice suddenly said behind you.

You turn around, neither of you even heard Leona approaching. He had one hand in his pocket and in the other a brown bag that he threw to Neji/Kifaji.

“You know what to do with it.” He turns and walks away without saying anything else.

“Yes, sire.” Neji/Kifaji still responds. He looks inside the bag. “Bread?” He puts his hand inside and takes out another smaller bag. He smells it. “And I think ithis is cheese. How did he...?” He then looks at you and smiles weakly. “Well... at least he's looking out for someone. Come, your majesty, I will prepare dinner for you.”

“What about Leona?” You ask. “And you?”

“King Leona never liked people worrying about him.” He says and then looks at you with another small smile. “And you don't need to worry about me. You're very kind, but... you know I don't need it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know this is a dream, your majesty.” He says calmly as you walk through a door into the kitchen and starts preparing your cheese sandwich. “You have nothing to fear. Beings like me have a duty to make the dreamer have happy dreams... but you must have already realized that Leona Kingscholar is making our job practically impossible.”

He finishes your sandwich and puts it on a plate. He asked you to go to the dining room so you could eat at the table. You go through another door and there's a beautiful dining room with a long table and luxurious chairs. You sit alone and he places the plate in front of you. He stands next to you.

“We must eliminate everyone and everything that might wake him up, that is true.” He keeps explaining to you. “But... He is making this a nightmare no matter our efforts. You were, until now, the only person or even thing that managed to lessen his anguish during all this time. The way he created me, from all the memories of the real Neji/Kifaji, does not allow me to continue with my duty to keep him asleep. No matter how hard I try to convince him that he can actually do something to improve this situation, it's useless. There is only one way to make him happy.” He looks at you with certainty. “He needs to wake up. And have you with him when he does.”

When night came, Neji/Kifaji told you that you had the option of sleeping in a bedroom alone if you wanted. He could tell Leona that you didn't feel well enough to sleep with him.

But if you choose to sleep in the same room and bed as Leona, you will enter the room alone as well, lie down on the bed and fall asleep from waiting for him.

You wake up a little later because you feel an arm around your waist and someone behind you. Having seen and heard Leona sleeping so many times, you quickly confirmed that it was him simply by the way he yawned. He pulls you closer and you feel his chest on your back and his breath for a moment on your neck.

If you decide to turn around and look at him, you'll see him looking at you with his green eyes half-closed and with that eyeshine in the middle of a darkness that was only not total due to the weak glow of the moon that entered the room.

“What?” He says lazily and in a deep voice. “You don't look disappointed that I woke you up.” He smirks.

Seeing the way you were looking at him, he pulls you closer again, rubs his nose against yours and only then kisses your lips softly but lovingly. If you allow it, you will make out until you fall asleep in each other's arms.

He was the one who fell asleep first, but you were the one who woke up first.

After a moment of enjoying the sight of Leona sleeping beside you, you try to get up. But as soon as you sit down on the bed and swing your legs out, you feel his arm around your waist, preventing you from getting up.

You caress his cheek or ears and tell him you two should get up. You just hear him mumble and feel him slowly pulling you closer. It is then that you hear a knock on the door and Neji/Kifaji announcing it is time to get up. This makes Leona mumble less satisfied than before.

You two get up and get dressed. When you thought you were both ready, you turned to head for the door but Leona speaks up.

“You sure you're ready?” Leona asks you with a somewhat judgmental look.

You look at your clothes and even look in the mirror again. You genuinely don't know what could be wrong.

“Well, if you think everythin's fine...” he shrugs and walks calmly to the door.

You grab his arm and ask him what you were missing. He doesn't answer you, he just smiles, amused by your frustration. Until you finally order him to tell you what he was talking about.

“Hahahah! Okay, okay. Please, don't attack me. You're such a scary herbivore. Hahahaha!” He mocks you, but then he grabs your cheeks with one hand and kisses your lips passionately and playfully. “Such bad manners for a royalty.” He says with a smirk after the kiss. “Don't even give a proper good morning to their own husband. Maybe you need more etiquette lessons.”

As soon as you arrived at the throne room, you immediately heard the protests of the citizens outside.

“Tch... what now?” Leona says. All traces of good mood he had was gone. “Lately it's been ridiculously noisy. Hey, Neji/Kifaji! You there?”

“You called, sire?”

Leona says that you two are hungry and he orders Neji/Kifaji to bring you food, but he says that there is no food and the two of them start arguing about there being nothing in the castle, much less outside, to eat. They argue as usual until Neji/Kifaji sighs and says:

“I never would have had to suffer such demands under Falena.”

This seemed to be a trigger, because as soon as he finished the sentence Leona jumped towards him and grabbed him by the collar, practically strangling him.

“Don't utter that name!” He threatens him, but Neji/Kifaji isn’t intimidated at all. “In case you've forgotten, that name reminds me of my sorrow all over again. Never, ever mention it in my presence.”

You hear the sound of magic and sand begins to swirl around you like a storm.

“Urgh...! Hahaha... Are you serious about eating me for lunch? Oh, you wouldn't want me. I'd be so tough and gamey and...”

“Leona, NO! Stop it!”

You try to stop him, grabbing one of his arms, but he instinctively throws you back, making you fall and crash against the throne's stairs. As soon as he realizes what he just did, he turns to look at you, regretful, but without letting go of Neji/Kifaji. However, soon after the look of regret gives way to one of anger.

“YOU IDIOT! You think you can save anyone by gettin’ in the middle of a fight, weak as you are?! Learn self-preservation and don't meddle in my affairs again!”

“Unca, nooo!” A child said as the door opened with a bang.

You see a huge white wolf attacking Leona, making him let go of Neji/Kifaji, and only after the shock do you realize it's Jack and the child is...

“Cheka?!” Leona says in disbelief. “No, you're dead.”

Cheka and Neji/Kifaji exchange a few words and both he and you notice that Cheka's voice sounds strange. Meanwhile, Jack gets off Leona and approaches you to help you get up with his snout.

“Why, cheka, I'm a little surprised to see you... alive.” It was obvious that Leona already knew that this wasn’t the real Cheka, or at least not the Cheka from his dream. “Your roaring's improved some.” He smiles smugly.

“You're being mean to all our subjects and Neji/Kifaji. you're a bad king, Unca. This is my kingdom to rule. Step down, Unca.”

“Oh, yes... I would, but there's one little problem with that.” A sandstorm forms again and Leona prepares to attack. “I'm not handin' over the throne to some pipsqueak pretender!”

He attacks Cheka and he breaks down into glitches. He destroyed a hologram. The sandstorm creates a whirlwind that pulls three other people into the throne room: Ruggie, Ortho, and Grim.

“A hyena kid? I've been lookin' out for you hyenas, and this is how you repay me? You bring out a fake Cheka and act like you're revolutionaries? Hah, now that's funny.” He grabs Ruggie. “Treason against the crown is punishable by death. Hope you're prepared to face the consequences.”

You get fed up with all this! Leona prepares to use his signature spell on Ruggie, but you run up to them and get between them.

“ENOUGH!” You shout in his face and suddenly the sandstorm dissipates. “Stop this, Leona! This was supposed to be a dream and you single-handedly turned it into a nightmare!” You grab him by the collar and he finally lets go of Ruggie. “Why do you do this to yourself?! If you're so smart, how come you haven't realized this is a dream? That it's all an illusion?”

“What?! What are you talking about? Are you crazy?” Now he was also arguing with you angrily.

“You are being deceived by Malleus right now! You are losing to a lizard you idiot! Just wake up already!”

The dream begins to distort and Leona moves away from you because of the headaches. But at that moment, a group of guards enter the throne room to protect Leona. Several of them attack you all right away, but Neji/Kifaji uses fire magic to protect you. You fight the guards and as soon as the battle ends you realize that Leona has disappeared.

The world had stopped distorting and Leona had just escaped the palace with some of the guards. Meanwhile, they managed to convince Leona that you had let yourself to be brainwashed by opponents of his regime.

“I understand the stupid subjects,” He mutters just to himself, trying hard not to let the guards hear him. “I even understand Neji/Kifaji... but...” Neither you nor anyone else would ever see this, but despite his expression of wrath, he was trying hard not to shed tears. “...them... (Y/N)... my own spouse?!... Why? Why them too?! Why you too?!...” His throat hurt from holding back the tears. “For better... for worse... to love and to cherish... I DIDN'T LIE! WHY DID YOU?!” He finally explodes in anger and roars.

“Your Majesty, I'm so glad you're safe.” The guards who intercepted you the day before run to meet their king. “Things are looking pretty dicey right now. We should find somewhere to lie low for a while.”

“Ah, you guys... At least YOU won't turn your back on me.”

“Heh heh... That's right, Majesty.” Darkness surrounds them all, the ground turns into black goop and the same happens to the NPCs' skin. “We're your only true friends. And everyone else is your true enemy. Even the ones you think you love. We'll turn the world upside-down as many times as it takes. Yes, as many times as it takes...”

Leona lets himself be swallowed by the darkness and shortly after you all arrive and jump into the black goop after him.

You all end up at Savanaclaw, more specifically, at the Spelldrive Stadium in their dorm.

“Oh, what a terrible tragedy.” Leona was wearing his dorm uniform again. “Who could have foreseen panicked crowds charging right into Diasomnia's procession of players? Much less trampling THE Malleus Draconia along with all their other competitors?” He smiles smugly. “But we must all rise to the occasion and triumph in this spelldrive tournament. It's what he'd want. Right?”

“So, in this scenario where the Savanaclaw students succeeded in sabotaging Malleus in the spelldrive tournament?” Jack asks.

“Looks that way.” Ruggie confirms. “Seems like this is happening just before the tournament starts.”

You guys talk about that dream and Leona, and Ruggie and Jack say that Leona is the type of person who's never satisfied. Probably no matter what he achieves, whether in real life or in the dream, he'd get bored quickly and lauch right into the next thing to complain about. However, both Ruggie and Jack conclude this with a smile.

“This version of Leona Kingscholar has recollections of his life at school.” Ortho says. “That means it's possible to make him aware of clashes with reality and deliver a mental jolt.”

“And most of the people involved in the spelldrive tournament are right here.” Ruggie complements. “How's about we put on a show?”

Meanwhile, Leona was talking about their next game being against Octavinelle and commenting that they were such small fry they could beat them blindfolded. Azul appears, along with Silver and Sebek who reveal that they, Malleus, and the other Diasomnia students are all fine and in condition to play in the tournament. And all thanks to Azul. Confronted by Leona, Azul just says with a smirk that he signed a more favorable contract, a basic good business practice.

“What in blazes...?” His dream begins to distort. “Why am I getting déjà vu from this? Hrgh!"

“Leona?” The Ruggie with inky black skin asks. “What's wrong?”

“He's waking up from a dream.” The real Ruggie arrives along with Jack.

“Two Ruggies?” Leona looks from one Ruggie to the other. “And, a dream...? Agh! What is this? My head...!”

Leona begins to remember what happened that day, including the colar that Riddle put around his neck and him saying that he would never become king no matter how hard he tries.

The darkness begins to do their job of trying to protect Leona and keep him asleep, so you attack them. After defeating the NPCs and them dissolving into black goop, Jack and Ruggie tell Leona to remember who he really is and then the dream breaks.

Leona wakes up as always, complaining, this time about him not remembering that whole ridiculous plot, your scraggly faces not being the first things he wanted to see when he opens his eyes and asking Jack not to yell in his ear.

“I got a delicate constitution, y'know. You should wake me up more gently.”

“You star grumbling the moment you wake up...” Ruggie says. “That's the Leona I know, shyeheehee!”

“Hey, Ruggie. You've got some explaining to do. What's going- ?!”

The earth begins to shake and the ground is covered in black goop. The dream was collapsing. You all prepare to escape the dream, when you are caught in the darkness and begin to be pulled in.

“(Y/N)!” Everyone shouts.

Grim automatically jumps towards you, but Leona stops him by grabbing him by the bow around his neck. Grim rants at him as if he's stopping him from saving your life, and for a second, his snout looked a lot like it did when he attacked you the night before he was taken to S.T.Y.X.

“You idiot!” Leona says, seriously. “You think (Y/N) wants you to go down with them?!”

He throws Grim for Jack to catch and rushes to you. He first grabs one of your arms, then holds you by the torso, wrapping his arms around your waist. Although this causes him to be trapped in the darkness as well.

“Rgh! This isn't just your weight. There's a powerful tug... Ah, crud. Guess you can't win 'em all...”

“What? What are you going to do?!” You ask, afraid he'll leave you.

He brings his face close to yours and looks you deeply in the eyes.

“Win this one for me, my Queen.” then he turns his face away from you. “JACK! CATCH!”

He pulls you out of the darkness and makes you fly until you land in Jack and Silver's arms. The last thing you see is Leona sinking into the darkness with a smirk. Since he was the dreamer, he still had a chance to save himself, but you didn't, so you all left the dream, whether you wanted to or not.

When you return to Leona's dream, you are back in the devastated, gray Sunset Savanna of the beginning of his dream. But regardless, you, Jack and Ruggie were just happy to see him safe and sound, and him wearing the Savanaclaw uniform showed that he was still awake.

“I never thought I'd see Leona of all people dive into darkness on someone else's behalf.” Azul says with a smirk. “Could this be the power of love?” He was holding back laughter.

“How brave for someone who can be dehydrated at a touch to open his mouth like that.” Leona replied with his own smirk.

“I can see why you're housewarden of Savanaclaw. That was an incredible show of bravery.”

“Yeah, yeah...” Leona shrugs it off and turns to you. “You. We need to talk. Come with me.” He starts walking away from the others. “If someone follows us, won't get out of this dream alive.” He says without stopping walking or turning to look at any of them.

You follow him to a huge rock where the others can no longer see or hear you. He leans against the rock and crosses his arms, casually.

“I remember everything.” He says, impassively and looking you in the eyes. “I was dreaming that we were married.” He analyzes your facial expression, but it doesn't take a genius to know what your little smile means. He smirks. “You didn't need to sleep with me, you know?”

You can't hide how flustered you are.

“He gave you a choice, didn't he?” Leona continues, with that smug smile. “You could have gone to sleep in another room...” He pushes himself off the rock and starts walking around you. “...But as soon as I went to bed...” He stops behind you and whispers in your ear. “...I find you there.”

You turn to face him with a smug grin of your own.

“Well, you didn't mind that either.”

“Why would I?” He takes a few steps forward, slowly, making you take a few steps back too. “I was dreaming that I was your husband...” Your back meets the huge rock and he leans with his forearm next to your head, bringing his face close to yours. “You think I wouldn't want to sleep with my spouse too?”

He looks from your eyes to your lips, but then he looks to one of your shoulders as if he's actually looking behind you. The smile slowly fades and he straightens up.

“I'm sorry.” He says, simply and with that neutral expression.

“What?”

“When I pushed you. You fell against the stairs...” For the first time, he looks away from you. “I'm sorry.” He repeated in a low tone but with genuine regret, at least for his standards.

You say it's okay, that he wasn't being completely himself and that he was going through a complicated situation. You've visited enough dreams to know that the dreamer doesn't necessarily act like themselves in their dreams.

“You can't use that excuse from now on.” He tells you, determinedly. “You can accept that dream as an isolated experience. But if something like that happens again, you won't give me excuses. You'll leave! No looking back. Understood?” He orders you.

You agree with a smile. That was his way of caring about you and protecting you. But with a smirk you ask if that means you can ask him for something to make up for what he did.

“Hm?” He smirks back. “What you mean? You just admitted that I was a victim too. I was going through a difficult situation and wasn't being myself. Your words. Forgiving me in this context was the least you could do for your crush.”

“Oh yeah? I came here to save you, and I even made your dream less of a nightmare for a moment. YOUR crush should get a reward for that at least. It would only be fair.”

“Wasn't that night reward enough?”

“Y-you weren't being yourself. I want a reward from the real Leona.”

“Hehe. Fine. If my Queen insists.”

He holds you by the waist, pulls you towards him and kisses your lips, hungrily. He slowly pushes you with his body to bring you back against the large rock behind you, without taking his lips off yours.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[scribbles-here]

Sweeter Than Chocolate

You decide to try a game with Cove with a familiar sweet treat; pocky.

tags: established relationship, step 3 Cove, fluff bc we all need a little bit of love

pairings: Cove Holden x F! Reader

note: this has been sitting in the drafts for WAYYY TOO LONGGG and I totally forgot about it also shout out to my friend on discord who didn't know I was scribbles-here and loved my work, this one's for you (´°ω°`)

Now matter how long you and Cove have been together; he has and will always be shy to kiss you first.

Don’t get him wrong! He loves kissing you! It’s just... with how close you are, how your perfume invades his nose, the shampoo you use mixing in, your warm chest pressing against his as you wrap your arms around Cove’s shoulders. 

It’s heaven for him. 

“Cove!” You shout, giving the boy’s front door a few firm knocks. “I bought something, and I want to try it with you!” 

Waiting, you heard the thumps against the wooden floor come closer and closer to the door. Cove opens swings open the door with a surprised expression written on his face. 

“(Name)? Did something happen?” Cove questioned in a concerned tone, quickly darting towards you, ocean blue eyes scanning you from head to toe for any injuries.

You giggle. He can be so cute sometimes but right now, you cannot wait any longer to ask him something.  Cove’s expression turns into a relieved smile once he realizes nothing bad happened to you. 

Noticing the plastic bag you were holding, his expression turns curious, tilting his head to the side to try and peak inside. "What did you buy?"

Hiding the bag out of your boyfriend's view, you walk inside his home, Cove trailing behind you, and set the bag of goodies on his kitchen table.

Watching you carefully take out the items and placing them in front of you, Cove grabs the box. "Pocky?" He read out loud, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah, have you tried them before?" You questioned, grabbing a chair and taking a seat in front of Cove. He copies you, settling his chair next to yours, knees touching.

"No, but I've seen them in stores." He shrugged, placing the treats back down. "Never got the chance to try them."

Beaming at this, you place your hands on Cove's knees and lean forward, noses grazing. Cove flinches at the closeness, cheeks turning into a nice shade of red. "Well today's your lucky day because we are going to be playing a game with this."

"A game?"

You nod, opening the packaging and pulling out a biscuit. "Yup, a totally easy game."

Crossing his arms, intrigued at the information. "Sounds... interesting. How do you play?"

"First we each hold onto the end of this pocky," gesturing to the pocky stick to which Cove nods. "Then we each get a turn to take a bite; whoever backs out loses."

Cove nods at your explanation, eyeing the biscuit. "Sounds easy enough."

"Great! Let's start!" You placed one end in your mouth, leaning forward for Cove to do the same. Cheeks burning, Cove leans forward and hesitantly bites down on the other end.

Cove watches you take a bite, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

Taking a bite, Cove has a thought. Wait, if we keep taking bites and don't back down, eventually we're gonna... Oh my god!

Zoning back to reality, Cove notices how close you both were. A small whimper leaving his lips, cheeks burning red. He blinks rapidly, but he's too late to stop himself. He takes the last bite and locks lips with yours.

Shutting your eyes, you lean into the kiss, reaching over to grasp Cove's hands in yours. Squeezing them, Cove relaxes his shoulders and flutters his eyes close, thumb rubbing your knuckles.

Pulling away from each other, you gauge at his red and flushed face, biting your lip to hide a smile growing on your face. Cove pouts, rolling his eyes at your reaction to his internal freak out.

After sitting in silence, Cove was the one to speak up.

"So, I won."

You gasped. "Yeah, no, I obviously won."

Cove scoffs, throwing you a smug look. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Retry; winner picks where our next date is."

Snatching the pocky at the speed of lightning, you place a biscuit in your mouth. "YOU'RE SO ON!"

My tip jar! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[scribbles-here]

constellations in your name. - malleus d.

warnings : fem reader, marriage of convenience/arranged marriage, malleus is kind of an ass at the beginning, sebek shit talks you for a bit, reader is referred to as "my lady" and "princess", numbers are written.. ?, nothing else i hope w/c : 8.3k

it all started with a promise, long before you were even born. your kingdom was small, quite unremarkable, really – the only notable feat to its name was that your ancestors were “friends” with the draconias. 

this “friendship” served as a basis for trade and to maintain positive political relations throughout history, all thanks to an established deal. the heirs of the families would be wed whenever it was deemed politically necessary (read: convenient). 

relations between the fae and humans were beginning to go awry a couple of months before you were to be born. and as fate had it, the draconias were also expecting an heir. the families and ministers sat down for a lengthy discussion about the next course of action, and it was then decided – you and the draconia heir would be wed when you turned eighteen.

“i don’t have to do anything if you can’t catch me!”

“lady [name]! return here at once, your carriage is waiting for you!”

your melodious laughter rang out throughout the palace, accompanied by the erratic click-clack of the heels leading your escape. you masterfully navigated the palace hallways, dodging the staff and the maid hot on your dress trail, freedom being the only thing on your mind.

last night you had your farewell ball, which means today you’re leaving for briar valley. from childhood, you kept hearing stories about how you’d marry the neighboring prince, malleus, after you turned eighteen. initially, it was all you’d ever dream and talk about – for what princess wouldn’t want to marry a kind prince?

then, stories about him came around.

turns out, he wasn’t kind.

in every new story about him, the source described him worse than in the previous ones. according to them, he was ruthless and terrifying, uncaring and unkind, instilling fear into the hearts of everyone he encountered. but, if that were true, how was briar valley prospering so?

you didn’t understand the controversies tied to the situation – you just knew you weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of marrying someone described with such words. it wouldn’t do much good for your image, or for the image of your kingdom, for which you’re supposed to tie the marriage in the first place.

However, as you were now nearly nineteen and the doomsday clock had long finished ticking, you realized you couldn’t keep stalling the inevitable – your escape was then cut short by your personal knights, trappola and spade, blocking your route. “traitors,” you muttered under your breath before swerving around in a desperate attempt to continue fleeing, unfortunately your maid has caught up and was now cornering you like a wild animal. that’s when you knew you had lost this battle.

“lady [name], it is high time for your departure. they are expecting you at castle blackscale tomorrow afternoon. please, board the carriage. you as well, sirs.”

once seated with your knights on either side, the horses neighed and off you went – to your doom.

“are you nervous, princess?”

you looked to your left, making eye contact with the raven-haired knight you’ve known since you were eight, and upon seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, you stopped fidgeting with your hands for now.

“a little, i’m afraid. i have never met the prince before, so the situation is quite nerve-wracking, you understand.”

deuce nods at that, and with one final glance towards your hands, chooses to gaze out the window instead.

“do not fret, my lady, i am almost certain everything will turn out alright. the stories may have just been overexaggerated speculations.”

“i pray you are right, ace.”

castle blackscale loomed over the hills in the distance, and as your eyes wandered over its silhouette, you found your hands fidgeting once more. the trip was filled with conversation with either one or both of your loyal knights, but you had a feeling none of ace’s horrible jokes or deuce’s oblivious questions would distract you from the reality settling in this time.

you were grateful they could come along with you – you weren’t sure how you would survive this without them.

the two morons have been knights in training under their fathers and the leader of the guards when you were a child, you’ve known both of them since they were seven and could barely spell ‘swordsmith’ – you were there for their failures and successes, watched them grow from weak little boys to the strong and dependable knights they are today. when the time came for you to choose a pair of knights as your personal guard, the choice wasn’t a hard one; it was a certainty set in stone the moment you befriended them. though there were attempts to talk you into different options, such as sir trey clover or cater diamond, the stars dictated that your life was to go like this, and who were you to disobey fate, when obeying was of no drastic consequence?

ace and deuce held a greater level of your trust than nearly anyone in your palace – they were much like your eyes and ears, always standing on your sides, alert and on guard. you could rely on them to protect you, but also to keep you entertained when there were no noteworthy matters for you to attend to.

as the carriage neared the palace gates, you found yourself hoping they wouldn’t be forced to put their skills to use quite yet.

“welcome, princess [name], we’ve been expecting your arrival.”

you curtsied to the retainer who welcomed you, thanking him politely for the hospitality. the dark throne room was lit up only by the sunlight filtering in through the painted glass windows and the green flames in the hanging goblets. your husband-to-be sat perched on his throne, looking mildly uninterested in the entire situation.

“prince malleus currently has certain pressing matters to attend to, but i assure you, you will have time to get better acquainted at dinner. for now, zigvolt will guide you to your chambers. if you need anything at all, do not hesitate to call upon any of the staff – they will be entirely at your service. the princes’ knights, zigvolt and vanrouge, included, granted they are not with his highness.”

you nod curtly, glancing toward malleus, who was already getting up to leave the room, then to the green-haired knight you now knew to be ‘zigvolt’ waiting for you by a door on the left side of the room. ace gently nudges you forward, and your feet slowly carry you on this new adventure you’re not entirely sure you even want to take part in.

“here you have the kitchen, though i am certain you do not necessarily care about that. that is the door to the gardens, to the left is the training ground for the royal guard. the castle staff's chambers are situated on the first floor of the eastern wing of the castle, while the knights are located on the second floor. the prince has reserved rooms for the two knights accompanying your highness, but if you so wish, it can be arranged that they stay nearer to your chambers,” as you walked through the castle with the knight in black, his tone of voice never once changed – it always kept its steady and flat tone, as if he was about as uninterested as his prince – and the only sound heard other than his monotone voice were your footsteps echoing in the black brick walls, “further up in the eastern wing are the princes’ retainers. the west wing, where we are currently, holds the castle library, just down this hall. a large collection of books in various genres is housed in it, and you are welcome to use it. the top of the west wing holds the princes’ chambers.”

zigvolt suddenly turns a corner after the seemingly endless flights of stairs, leading you down yet another endless hallway, until he stops outside a room with looming double doors of intricate design, which he pushes open once you stand behind him.

“directly under which are your temporary ones. prince malleus decorated and picked this room himself; he hopes it is to your highness’s liking.”

the room is.. certainly something. the design is entirely gothic, decorated with some grotesques near the ceiling, beautiful in an almost haunting way. no matter what terrible things people say about malleus, they certainly cannot state his taste is lacking.

“It is wonderful, thank you, sir ..?” you paused, looking at him expectantly. while you did know his name was zigvolt, it seemed uncouth for you to refer to him by it when he hadn’t directly introduced himself to you yet – he had to be given a chance to pick how he wanted to be referred to. you were the outsider here; you couldn’t afford to assume.

he bowed at a precise ninety-degree angle, then straightened up immediately, “zigvolt. sebek zigvolt, prince malleus’s personal knight, at your service, your highness.”

you smiled, hoping to ease his.. awkward politeness. you weren’t used to being held at arm’s length by the staff, everyone at your palace called you ‘lady’. “thank you, sir zigvolt. but you need not refer to me that way, ‘lady’ is enough – i would prefer it so, truthfully.”

ace startled at that. he knew where you were coming from, but this was not your home territory. you’ve barely been here an hour, it was much too soon to make these requests. at the odd look he saw ‘sebek’ send you, he shared a glance with deuce, who, based on his expression, was probably having the same doubts as ace, “my lady–”

you raised a hand to stop him, and he was silenced immediately.

“it is quite alright, ace. i have merely stated my preference. whether sir zigvolt abides by it is entirely up to him. thank you again for guiding us, sir zigvolt. i would like to take you up on the offer of having their chambers moved to a closer proximity, if that is alright. i just know they couldn’t stand being far from me, isn’t that right, deuce?”

deuce straightens like a wooden sword, smile bright and cheeks pink, “yes, princess. it would be quite terrible.”

as your melodious laugh rings out through the dark hallways – without you running from a maid this time around – you fail to notice the way ace is studying the knight in black armor, and how said knight looks between you and deuce in bewilderment at your interaction. how could you be so friendly with the staff meant to serve you? how could you ask him to refer to you less politely? have you no shame, no class? is this how all human royals behave? it was vile. but he remembers what sir lilia vanrouge told him – be polite and fulfill every request of the princess. so he does.

“yes, i will inform the staff and have it arranged. if you have no further questions, i must return to my duties. i hope you enjoy your stay, your high– .. lady [name].”

though he stumbled through it, he has fulfilled your request, and you found yourself smiling at him in gratitude.

perhaps your stay here wouldn’t be so miserable, after all.

you were quickly proven wrong.

sitting at the long dinner table face-to-face with your soon-to-be husband, you found yourself fidgeting with your hands once more.

initially, you thought it wouldn’t be so bad – perhaps ace was right, perhaps the scary stories really were just overexaggerated speculations, perhaps he genuinely was a kind man – but sitting here, trying desperately to curl in on yourself under his scrutinizing stare, you realized you were still terrified. terrified of what this meant for you, for your kingdom, for him, of him.

every attempt you made at striking up conversation was quickly shot down by dry and monotone answers, or completely ignored, and it was starting to seem like aloofness was painted into the walls of the castle and fused with the air they breathed in here with how everyone you’ve come across seemed to have it as a personality trait.

“you are scared.”

you nearly dropped your cutlery. his voice suddenly entering your ears while you were distracted was the last thing you needed – and unfortunately, the way you practically jumped upon hearing him seemed to confirm his suspicions without you needing to say anything.

“you need not be. i bear no ill intentions towards you, the queendom of roses, or humans. this is merely business to me – a deal neither of us signed off on, yet unfortunately, must carry out. we need not spend time with each other if you do not wish; it is enough if we feign the image of a happy marriage for the people and ministers. are you able to do that?”

as you stare at him, you realize you were, once again, right. he genuinely was entirely uninterested in this entire situation, so much so that he doesn’t even want to see you when he doesn’t have to.

still, you once swore to yourself that if you were to be married to a stranger, you’d want to, at the very least, be his friend. you wouldn’t let yourself be deterred by the fear in your bones, tremble in your hands, and the coldness in his eyes.

“yes. despite that, i would like to at least be on positive terms. get to know you. i cannot pretend to love someone i do not even know.”

he stared at you in complete silence for a moment – even sebek’s body went rigid behind malleus – then shook his head.

“that will not be necessary.”

then he got up and left you alone at the table, without looking back. 

to his credit, the silver-haired knight you now knew to be ‘silver vanrouge’ shot you a sympathetic look over his shoulder. if everyone else at this castle was against you, at least he seemed to feel sorry for your predicament.

that night, after ace and deuce escorted you to your chambers before turning to retire to their own, you sat at your intricately designed vanity. the woman in the mirror was not you – at least, you didn’t recognize her as you. you were way more cheerful and bright, but this woman was exhausted. then, as you reached for your hairbrush with a sigh, there were three gentle raps against the door. you startled momentarily, but brushed it off. perhaps ace or deuce forgot to relay some information from home.

“come in.”

one side of the double doors opens, but the person who walks in isn’t either of your knights, no – it’s the one you recognize as silver.

“i apologize for bothering you so late, your high– lady [name]. i came to apologize in place of the prince, and to, perhaps.. explain his earlier behavior.”

he stood in the doorway, one hand behind his back and the other hanging loose at his side. silver looked like the very image of a knight, back straight and poised in quiet confidence, but not smug. he seemed almost as if he wanted to shuffle his feet in embarrassment – coming to a lady's chambers in the middle of the night was sure to raise some alarms.

despite the situation, you found yourself giggling and turning in your seat, ready to hear him out properly. since he put in the effort to come here so late, he deserves that much, at least.

“it is quite alright, sir vanrouge. i wasn’t expecting the prince to welcome me with open arms – i am not particularly enthusiastic about this arrangement, either. i am merely here to fulfill the promise i made to my parents and my kingdom. i just wish his highness made it easier to like him.”

the last part slipped out unintentionally, and your hand immediately shot up to cover your mouth, ready to apologize a thousand times over until the man opposite you let out a quiet chuckle, “i understand. that is what i came here for – the prince hasn’t always been that way. When I was just a knight in training, he was the kindest prince this kingdom could have, and they referred to him as a real treasure. then the.. rumors started to spread. about how briar valley was filled with evil people, the royal family at the center of it all, about the prince being ruthless and evil. the fae were looked down upon, the scum of this land. then the queen passed, and the king disappeared, so prince malleus was left to shoulder the responsibilities of leading and protecting the kingdom on his own. if he couldn’t prevent invasions by being loved, he would do so by being feared.”

silver then looked from you to the marble floors, which suddenly seemed quite interesting, “he’s.. the prince is a kind man, beyond the veil of cruelty he hides behind. i am certain if you keep trying to reach him, he will let you. the prince has not had a single relatively friendly interaction with anyone from outside the castle walls in many years – and even within them, the staff does not exactly.. treat him as a friend, i am sure you have already taken notice. i beg of you not to give up on him just yet, my lady,” you watch as he bows at a pristine ninety-degree angle, much like sebek had done earlier in the day, except silver's bow feels more genuine.

my lady. he had referred to you as ‘my lady’. though initially he stumbled over ‘lady [name]’ as if it were a foreign concept, he has now assumed you as one of his own, and it lit a small spark of pride in your heart.

“you need not bow, sir silver, please,” he straightened with wide eyes, looking at you as if you had just told him to perform sword tricks blindfolded, “thank you for telling me that. i will continue trying to get through to the prince.”

he smiles at you – almost beaming – and you realize that, even if it was not malleus, at least you still managed to make one friend tonight.

the next day, you woke up practically glowing.

after the conversation with silver, you had brushed your hair while thinking up several plans on how to convince your husband-to-be to grant you some of his time and attention – ways to soften him up, if you will.

that's how you found yourself in the library shortly after breakfast, which malleus had not attended, unsurprisingly. you had later learned from silver that he takes his breakfast much earlier. as such, you chose to start your day by browsing multiple books in the ‘romance’ genre. ace and deuce, ever the loyal helpers, decided to assist you in this endeavor until they were called off to attend training with the blackscale knights. you had by then written more than enough notes on ways to romance a man in your humble opinion, but you decided to stick around a tad longer. the library was absolutely breathtaking; it would be a waste not to take a moment to explore it entirely. and that is how you came across malleus. he was sitting in one of the quieter corners, intently reading a book on grotesque architecture, looking like a black rose – hauntingly beautiful, and incredibly rare to find.

you stared at him in silence, torn between turning around and pretending you never saw him or joining him, until he sighed and closed the book, now looking up at you as if you were the single greatest bane of his existence.

“how may i help you.”

“i did not.. know you had an interest in.. architecture.”

“you know nothing about me.”

you shuffled your feet in embarrassment – he was right about that, what you said was foolish, but you didn’t know how else to begin a conversation at that given moment.

he sighed once more, placed his book on the dark wooden table near which he had previously sat with much remorse, as if leaving it would physically harm him, and left the library.

when you approached the table, you found he had left a page marked in the book, and upon opening it, learned he was not exactly studying architecture – he was studying grotesques and gargoyles.

an idea struck you almost immediately.

when you first arrived at the castle yesterday, you had noticed the exterior walls were decorated with several gargoyles. as you walked around them now, you paused under every one of them to study them in depth – from their design and special features to where they're located, as if that held any significance. you were not an expert on gargoyles, but you had a feeling malleus might be.

“my lady, might i inquire as to what it is you are doing?”

your heels had caught in the soil while you hastily turned around, and you would have fallen flat on your behind had it not been for the knightly reflexes of the silver-haired man in black armor, who caught you just in the nick of time.

“.. thank you, sir silver, that would have been quite the.. embarrassing fall, to say the least. i am studying the gargoyles of castle blackscale in an attempt to get a better understanding of them.”

he bows, not as deeply as he had last night, but instead as a way to say ‘you’re welcome’. “the gargoyles..? do you have any at your palace, my lady?” one arm steady behind his back in knightly fashion, while he points the other to the right, inviting you to walk with him; or rather to lead the way to your next destination while he follows close behind. you take him up on the offer with a smile.

“oh, no, i fear i do not. our palace walls were mostly decorated by the family crest, roses, vines, and card soldier statues. .. i suppose those would count as a type of grotesque, no?” you glance back at him, taking notice of the way his eyes don’t leave you, even when he’s thinking. “hard to say, my lady, i am not much of an expert on this subject. you would do better discussing it with the prince,” there’s a moment when realization flashes across his features and you grin, “.. is that why you are studying the gargoyles?”

“quite right, sir silver. i accidentally interrupted him while studying a book about grotesque architecture this morning, so i will attempt to use it to begin a conversation with him at dinner.”

he nods in understanding, supporting your idea without directly letting you know. silver believes it might work – malleus does quite enjoy talking about gargoyles. you stop under the next one, gazing up at it in wonder while the knight stands behind you.

“is that a goat? with wings? .. fascinating. i can understand why the prince would enjoy these. does the character have mythological importance? .. i believe that is a grotesque; i do not see a water sprout anywhere. do you?” silver observes as you circle the statue on the castle wall, thoroughly intrigued, and before he can form a response, someone else answers in his stead.

“that is a gargoyle. the water sprout is in its mouth.”

you freeze and silver bows on instinct, his body reacting before his mind has even caught up to the situation. then you observe the goat-gargoyle once more – malleus was right, there truly was a water sprout.

“oh, i see it now. thank you, prince malleus. these are quite intriguing creatures, i can see why you are fascinated by them.”

“i am not fascinated by them. i merely enjoy looking at them.”

you gaze at him with a near blank stare, were it not for the eyebrow lifted in amusement, “that is almost entirely the same thing,” silver fears you had just dug your own grave, but then malleus chuckles – genuinely chuckles – and he has to take a moment to consider whether perhaps his prince had been kidnapped and replaced with an impostor.

“you might be right. there are some more fascinating gargoyles near the turret, if that interests you. however, i must ask you not to kidnap my knights off duty the next chance you take to explore the castle.”

silver's face lights up in shades of pink and red, strongly resembling the roses you grow at home. unfortunately, you only catch a glimpse of it before he hides his face behind his hair while he bows, precisely ninety degrees once more. you giggle behind your hand and look at malleus, now far less scared than you were before, “i will have you know i kidnapped no knight of yours, sir silver offered to be my escort on this adventure.”

malleus’ face scrunches up in confusion, looking between you and his knight, “.. sir silver?”

before he can look into it much further, silver straightens up in a rush only to bow once more, this time to you, “it was a pleasure escorting you, my lady, i must now return to my duties. i wish you a pleasant day.”. and off he goes, knightly confidence thrown directly into the dungeons as you watch him nearly trip over his feet twice.

“.. my lady?”

a week had passed since your arrival at castle blackscale, and with each day, you found your room looking more and more like you. on the first day, it had been terribly dark – beautiful, but dark. now, there were books scattered all over the marble floors, the curtains were open, and flowers in vases littered every clean shelf you could find. 

you’ve been doing extensive research on romance, gargoyles, and grotesque architecture just to keep conversations between you and malleus flowing. instead of that, however, you seemed to attract the attention of everyone but him. many of the flowers around your room were from the castle staff, ace, deuce, and to your surprise, even silver.

how did everyone but your husband like you? 

the castle staff were all so kind to you. it had shocked all of them when you requested they call you ‘lady’, but much like sebek and silver, they all obliged. it had become like second nature to them now – they all greeted you with a pleasant ‘good day, lady [name]’ and a smile. you had begun to feel right at home. deuce had never once strayed from calling you ‘princess’, and ace had always referred to you as ‘my lady’ – those names were like their telltale signs; after all, they were the only two people to refer to you as such. ace, however, had competition now – silver.

out of every staff member at the castle, silver had been the kindest to you. escorting you when your knights couldn’t, keeping you company on your spontaneous adventures, doing his best to assist you with the malleus matter. you didn’t particularly understand why he’d taken such a liking to you, but you didn’t quite mind it, either. his partner seemed to like you the least out of everyone.

well, after malleus. malleus seemed to dislike you the most.

that didn’t mean you’d give up, though. you would continue in your efforts to befriend or court him. whichever happens first.

that is why you are currently in the castle garden, picking the most beautiful flowers you can find in an attempt to arrange a bouquet for your husband-to-be. you had made sure to ask the gardeners which flowers you could pick from beforehand; it would be a shame to ruin their centerpiece if you just picked carelessly.

Just before you were about to leave the garden, content with the bouquet you put together, you noticed a mop of black hair glistening in the sun, peeking out from behind the wooden fences of the gazebo. upon approach, you found malleus sitting inside, with yet another book in his lap.

“not grotesque architecture this time?”

his head snapped up, startled by your sudden appearance. He may have been too engrossed, as he hadn’t heard you approach at all. he opens his mouth to reply, but the words are caught in his throat when he notices the flowers in your arms.

you follow his gaze in confusion until you remember why you came here in the first place, “oh! yes, apologies, these are for you. .. though, now that i think about it, it might be slightly unsuitable to give you flowers from your own garden..” you feel your cheeks heat up a little, opting to instead look at the toes of your heels rather than his face. by the seven, he must think you’re absolutely witless.

thanks to that, you miss the way malleus’ eyes widen and his ears turn red, scolding words over you disrupting his reading time repeatedly stuck in his throat. “no- i-” he clears his throat, acting as if the thoughtful gesture didn’t just send his pulse racing, “thank you. i will cherish them.”

you look at him with stars in your eyes and a smile so bright it could rival the sun, and malleus seems to understand why all of his staff members seem to gravitate towards you instead of him a little better. speaking of staff members…

“is vanrouge not with you today?” he asks after taking a quick look around.

“no, your highness. should he be?”

you invite yourself to sit on the bench opposite him, and he has to physically suppress a sigh. “no. i was merely surprised, since you seem to have spent much time together since your arrival,” there's a pause as he looks at you, where he considers why he’s the only one you’re seemingly keeping at arms' length. still, he chooses not to address it quite yet.

“oh, sir silver has been helping me come up with ways to talk to your highness, that is all.”

you laugh a little before realizing your mistake, hand immediately shooting up to cover your mouth again. you’ll dig your grave before you get a chance to befriend him at this rate. his eyebrows shot up in time with your hand, mildly shocked at this revelation, “why would you need help from vanrouge to talk to me?”

“because.. your highness has.. um, not been entirely welcoming..? i was getting turned away at every opportunity, so he offered to.. um, assist me.. haha..”

he’s been turning you away because he’d assumed you wouldn’t want to talk to him. and now you’re telling him it was the other way around? is that why he’s the only one with a brick wall between you?

he heaves an exasperated sigh, informing you of his side of the matter, and now it all seems clear. the situation is so utterly ridiculous, you find yourself laughing with no restraint – etiquette classes thrown out the windows – and it’s the most freeing feeling you’ve ever felt. 

and to the surprise of even the birds flying about, malleus laughs with you.

“i conversed with him! first in the garden, and now over dinner! all my hard work was not in vain! can you believe it?!”

“congratulations, princess!”

“it went surprisingly well, my lady! even the princes’ side of the table was astonished. zigvolts’ expression was hilarious, if i do say so myself.”

“i quite agree with you, ace – his expression read something between astonished and horrified. i will never forget it,” you share a laugh as you walk down the winding hallways of the castle, slowing down when you hear voices in the distance. you were never one to eavesdrop, but one of the voices you recognized as sebeks’, and you were curious as to what he was saying – it sounded like a post-dinner debrief.

“she’s horrible.”

“sebek,” that one you recognized as silver, “watch your mouth.”

“what? i don’t like her. she’s too giddy and sunshine-full for prince malleus. it’s vile.”

“sebek.”

“she treats all the staff members as if they were equal to her, it’s like she’s looking down on everyone without it being direct. ‘please refer to me as lady [name], i prefer it that way.’ who does she think she is?! she’s not at home here!”

“sebek.”

“she’s so picky with her food, she’s most definitely spoiled. and her two knights are- are absolute buffoons, they can’t even hold their swords right! she’s so clumsy and oblivious and–”

“zigvolt. what is it you are talking about?”

there's a sudden clattering sound, and you can only assume he'd dropped something, but you can’t quite hear it over the sound of your heart pumping in your ears. is that what he thinks of you? is that what everyone secretly thinks of you? you turn to glance at ace and deuce, and by the deep frowns, furrows in their brows, and clenched jaws, you can tell they are way more angry than they’re letting you see. whether it was over what he’d said about them or you, you weren’t certain.

“p-prince malleus! um, we were just–”

“who is ‘we’? i did not say a single thing other than warn you to watch your mouth. you alone were speaking of lady [name] in such a way, i would never do that. do not drag me down with you,” silver was.. defending you?

“thank you, silver. zigvolt – i strongly advise you to keep my wife’s name out of your mouth for future convenience, she has been nothing but kind to everyone in the castle, even you. if you disagree, you should perhaps spend some more time with her instead of slandering her in her absence. in fact, i am officially cleaning you of duty tomorrow – you will spend the day with my wife. as her escort. you will attend to all her needs and fulfill her every request. is that clear?”

“... yes, your highness.”

“splendid. silver, i hear lilia has been looking for you.”

his footsteps echoed down the hallway as he took his leave, leaving your group and the other two knights in stunned silence. his wife. he had referred to you as his wife. well – that is what you are to be, on paper, but you’ve never heard him say it, or even acknowledge it.

“... since when does he call you ‘silver’?”

“.. i have no idea.”

the next day, as promised, sebek followed you around everywhere, much like your shadow. he goes with you to the library to return some of the books you’ve finished, then to the kitchen to greet the staff and ask for some frozen peas you could have – even though he had no clue what you’d want them for, he still carried them when you handed the bag to him – and then finally, to the back of the garden. you’ve been spending the greater part of your days here since you discovered the duck pond, hidden behind many weeping willows and thorny bushes.

sebek had lived at the castle his whole life, and he’s never once seen it before.

you sit down on the grass and he looms behind you like a statue, staring at the poor ducks as if they’ve personally offended him. you reach behind, expecting him to hand you the bag of peas, but he doesn’t. he continues staring.

“.. sir sebek? the peas, please?”

he’s knocked out of his trance then, hastily handing you the peas he watches as you open the bag and throw some of its contents to the ducks. upon realizing its food, they race to see who can get to it first, and suddenly, there’s an all-out water-splashing, pea-destroying duck war happening right before his eyes. your laughter rings out, and you throw more peas in, then turn your head back to look at him over your shoulder.

“you may sit down as well, i do not bite – at least, i am not aware.”

he hesitates for a moment. does this count as a request? you turn back to the ducks, and he realizes that no, that was not a request, you were giving him a choice. you don’t want to force him to interact with you if he doesn’t want to; you were giving him the place to decide. and so with mild awkwardness, he sits on your right side, a polite distance away. you smile and hand him the pea bag, out of which he takes a generous handful, and copies your throwing motions. the ducks move to destroy the peas thrown by him, much like they destroyed yours.

“how long have you lived at castle blackscale, sir sebek?”

“my whole life. my family has served the draconias for generations, being a knight in the blackscale guard was my birthright.”

you hum thoughtfully, “i see. do you enjoy being a knight?”

“i do. it’s my life's calling, and to me, there is no greater honor than protecting the royal family of briar valley.”

“what about the people?”

he turns to you, brows furrowed in confusion, “what about the people, lady [name]?”

“do you not also consider it a great honor to protect the people of briar valley? the loyal subjects of the draconias?” 

when you look at him, there’s a shadow of conflict flickering in his eyes, and you can tell he’s never really thought about it before. you find yourself a little disappointed. he’s as much of a knight as silver when it comes to strength, confidence, and poise, that you cannot deny. silver is more of a knight with his mindset than the current sebek, however – where sebek hesitates to answer, silver’s first thought was the people. 

“you are a very strong and brave knight, sir sebek, i cannot deny that. but on questions like those, you cannot hesitate. the royal family would not exist without the people. the people here would not exist without the royal family. the current times are tough on both sides, and peace is balanced on a scale,” you turn back to the ducks, throwing them the last of the peas from the bag in your lap, “i am not telling you to choose one or the other, that is impossible in theory, but you must decide where you stand, what is important. you are not only part of the blackscale royal guard, you are also part of the blackscale guard. who will protect the people if not the knights they chose?”

on that day, for the first time since he was ten, the sun shone brighter, and sebek zigvolts’ heart felt lighter.

for the rest of the day, he continued following you around on your adventures, but he no longer loomed like a shadow behind you. he stood on your side, walked barely a step behind, participated in idle conversation, observed how you interacted with the things and people around you, and he realized he was wrong.

you were not spoiled, nor oblivious – you were kind. you didn’t secretly look down on the people around you; you genuinely believed they were your equals. you were patient. you waited while he explained his view on certain matters before stating your own. you were considerate. whenever you asked for something, you reassured the staff ‘not to rush’ as you had more than enough time – yet they rushed anyway. you always thanked everyone, you didn’t expect things naturally. you showed him how you transformed one of the old and dusty spare rooms into a fully functioning art room of your own, and sebek learned you were also talented. you were intelligent.

and he was wrong.

when he admitted to his mistake and bowed, begging for your forgiveness, you merely told him to straighten up and smiled, accepted his apology, and asked if he’d like a cup of tea. he sat down on one of the many chairs in the art room, the others soon occupied by your knights, silver, and you, and he realized you had somehow transformed this cold and dark castle into a ‘home’.

later that night, he had gone to apologize to prince malleus also, for slandering his wife without fully knowing her beforehand, and the prince smiled at him, much like you had.

“as long as you have learned from your mistake, your transgression is forgiven, sebek.”

sebek. not zigvolt, simply sebek.

the following days, malleus waited for you with breakfast. and lunch. and dinner. when he had a free moment, he chose to spend it with you, and if not him, then he would send silver or sebek to accompany you. ace and deuce were growing increasingly jealous of how much of your time the blackscale knights were taking up, so they also started taking turns following you around.

you were now either seen with sebek and ace, silver and deuce, or malleus by your side at all times.

it was incredibly amusing – to the castle staff as much as to you.

“i’ve heard you grow certain rare rose breeds at your palace, is that right?”

“oh, yes, it is. we are particularly proud of our roses, amongst other things. i believe you would love the rose gardens, they are the perfect place for reading.”

malleus hums in thought, as if taking your suggestion into deep consideration, “then we shall visit when they next bloom.”

he took a sip of his tea, eyes returning to the book in his hand while you mixed your paints not far from him. the thought of him wanting to visit your homeland warmed your heart – you could already imagine him strolling around the rose gardens, the very picture of beauty and grace.

“what are you painting today?”

you grin, gazing over at him momentarily, “the very rose garden i just told you about.”

“from memory?”

“i will try my best.”

“i wish you luck on this experiment.”

all recent afternoons have been spent like this – him, occupying a chair in your art room with a book while you painted anything that came to mind – conversation flowing freely over shared tea and classical music from the record player you found in the room while you were cleaning it out. it was pleasant and comfortable, and it wouldn’t be hard to imagine spending your life like this.

then there was only one month left until the wedding.

and suddenly, all your free time was taken over by dress fittings, consultations with the retainers regarding the dishes, decorations, music, and color scheme. you were thankful malleus was also present for most of it; you might’ve had at least fifteen panic attacks otherwise. 

every night, you returned to your room more exhausted than the last, and your beloved art room collected dust in the silence, frozen in time exactly how you last left it. 

“well.. what do you think?”

the room was shrouded in stunned silence, even the clock on the wall stopped ticking in fear of breaking the moment – the dress was finished.

“it is… wow.. my lady, you have.. never looked more beautiful than you do now..” your ginger haired knight said, voice somehow hesitant to leave his throat yet his words were filled with conviction. he dropped to his knee, right hand on his heart, as if swearing loyalty until his final breath to you once more, like he had done years ago.

deuce mirrored his actions, though his eyes never once left you.

“excuse me, is lady [name] here? prince malleus is– oh.”

you turn towards the voice, startled out of your mind, until you recognize the silver mop of hair and black armor, “sir silver! what do you think? should i have some more taken off the trail? is it not too.. obnoxious?”

he shoots you the softest, kindest smile you have ever seen, “no, my lady, you are the most beautiful bride briar valley will ever have.”

he stares for a moment longer before realizing what he came here for, but before he can warn you, disaster is already stirring behind him.

“silver, what is taking you so long?”

eyes wide as saucers, he practically jumps his prince to prevent him from seeing you, immediately turning him around and leading him away from the door before he even has the chance to step through it.

“prince malleus! yes, she is in there, but you must wait a couple of moments before you can talk to her. i fear it is.. quite important.”

the night before your wedding, you were, understandably, incredibly nervous.

what if you tripped during your walk? what if your veil got caught on something? what if malleus said no? your relatives and his, the ministers, two entire nations will be watching this wedding – you cannot embarrass yourself.

before you could overthink the situation any longer, two gentle raps sounded against the door, and you sat up straight on your bed.

“come in.”

no matter who you expected to open the door, you would be wrong, and you were stunned into silence when malleus stepped into your room.

“i apologize for coming here so late, i just.. i could not sleep, and by the looks of it, you could not, either.”

you nod, still clearly dazed as he makes himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. he looks around your room once, then twice to really take it all in, and nods, “i like how you decorated it here. could you bring a touch of this to my– our chambers also, once you move there?”

“yes, of course. .. wait, what?”

he looks at you, head tilted to the side, as if not understanding what about that you find so odd, “yes? oh, were you not aware of the move? .. or is that not something you want? it can be arranged for you to stay here, if that is what you would prefer..”

“no! no, that’s alright, i don’t mind. i just wasn’t.. told,” you were so exhausted you didn’t even notice your speech becoming impolite, but malleus didn’t seem to care, either – rather, he was smiling.

“great. .. just to make sure, you are not.. going to say no during the ceremony.. are you?”

you sit up straighter, suddenly very aware of the conversation currently happening, “no! .. are you?”

“no, i was not planning to. i have begun to quite enjoy your presence as of late.”

you return his smile, one of your many worries lifted. malleus didn’t seem ready to leave just yet, neither were you tired enough to sleep, so you chose to do the one thing you do best: talk.

“have i ever told you about the time ace nearly beheaded another knight during training?”

his eyebrows shoot up, amusement glistening in his eyes as he stares at you, moving closer so the conversation can happen in hushed whispers – a secret shared between nearly-newlyweds, “no, you have not.”

the church bells ring out through briar valley as you make your way down the aisle, veil sliding over the carpeted floor like a shadow behind the sun, shimmering along with your dress, akin to stars left in your wake.

this was your big day, one you’ve been waiting for since you were informed it would happen – a promise to be fulfilled, nearly twenty years in the making.

your loyal knights with tear-filled eyes escort you to this adventure, much like they have to many other ones since you were eight with dirt-stained dresses and scraped up heels; except this time, you were the very image of nobility and elegance. a swan taking flight from a pond with water lilies, a new star coming to life, creating a brand new constellation with its neighbors, which serve as the veil you pull behind you. you have burned a brand new image into the sky, and it is entirely in your name – it lives solely for you.

as you finally reach malleus, hands intertwined, his constellation connects with yours. somewhere to his right, you notice silver and sebek, also on the verge of tears.

“you look beautiful.”

it's a quiet whisper amid ceremonial chaos, but you heard it loud and clear, and now you were crying, too.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, malleus.”

the minister performs the wedding speech special for the royal family, you nod when you’re addressed and smile when you should, you say your vows without much struggle – but you can feel the finale breathing down your neck and despite malleus assuring you he wasn’t planning to say no, you find yourself doubting, wondering, whether he was telling the truth.

“do you, prince malleus draconia, take this woman, princess [name] hearts, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and heath, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

there's a silence so loud it makes you want to rip your hair out, as if time itself has paused just to keep you on your toes, but then malleus grins while squeezing your hand, “i do.”.

that’s all it takes for you to breathe again.

the minister smiles, “and do you, princess [name] hearts, take this man, prince malleus draconia, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

“i do.”

you exchange the rings you chose not even that long ago, silver bands of gothic designs with briar rose stones and inner inscriptions only you two know about, and the minister speaks once more, “by the authority vested in me by the kingdom of briar valley, i now pronounce you husband and wife and what the seven hath joined together, let no man nor woman put asunder. you may now kiss the bride.”

before he even finishes speaking, malleus’ hands are already on your cheeks, lips connected as if he’s been living and breathing for this very moment his entire life.

perhaps he has been – and perhaps, so have you.

your rings glisten in the sunlight, and two nations cheer, as for the first time in over a century, the people they forced to marry seem genuinely happy with the decision.

it all started with a star, long before you were born, and even longer before the promise was made. the constellations in your names have long existed in the sky – they were merely waiting for you to acknowledge them.

who were you to disobey fate, if obeying was of no dire consequence?

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @lunavixia @gabirii @solxima @erigaur @pomegranateboba @meigalaxy @krisvslove // ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

[scribbles-here]

A Hopeless Lovestory: Malleus Draconia x Reader

A/N: Piggybacking off of my “Malleus is exactly like Gomez Addams as a partner,” post. Why? Because I will die with this. This is Malleus, or at least my interpretation of him. Yes yes, I love picturing him as the cute dorky fae that’s behind with tech times and wants friendship. It’s cute. But this? This. I stand with. Man lives in Victorian Fae land, surrounded by dark magic, will never work a day in his life, and is a hopeless romantic. This is my tribute to how much of a SIMP Malleus is.

Keep reading

[scribbles-here]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 1K Event! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

This event is on indefinite hiatus!

Okay so for my 1k Event, I'm gonna do a little series where there's a common prologue and split into character routes. They'll be full length fics starting with a date and the dynamics of the relationship itself!

I'll be starting off with Leona (cause i pulled his nightmare suit) and at the end of each chapter I'll put in a poll for the next character!

I'll be doing all the housewardens and Jamil + a few characters that get voted in!

thank you all so much for the 1k as well as the sweet comments. <3

Prologue

Choice: Leona ; Azul ; Malleus ; Vil ; Jamil

[scribbles-here]

THANK YOUU ヾ(*´ ∇ `)ﾉ

(ignore how I used the wrong account to respond to this 😭)

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY YALL 😭 IM 21…

i’m 21… 😰

[scribbles-here]

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY YALL 😭 IM 21…

i’m 21… 😰

[scribbles-here]

imma put this account under construction 🚧 cuz i updated my other account and i feel like i need to do the same here 😭

also planning on changing my username cuz this shit is UNORIGINAL 😖

anyways look out for that in the next few hours cuz picking a theme takes me forever 😝😝😝

[scribbles-here]

TWST Stranded Alien AU Ch.3

Characters: Grim, Crowley, GN Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Description: Instead of being essentially just a magical version of Earth, what if Twisted Wonderland was truly a different planet?

Warnings: (Chapter Specific:) None; (General Fic:) Weird biology /science stuff, eventual yandere, descriptions of violence, each post will have chapter specific warnings. Still, just to be safe, mdni.

Notes: Sorry for the wait! Big life stuff has settled down now, so the next parts should be coming out quicker

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 (you are here)

______________________________________________________________

You pulled at the edges of your robe, drawing it taught against your goosebump laden skin as the three of you left the library. Thankfully, the unidentifiable silky material did a decent job at keeping heat in, but a bitter chill still bit at any flesh not under its protection. Shivers wracked your body, giving the already strenuous task of keeping your balance and breathing in check an extra layer of difficulty.

The stranger, for his part, seemed completely unbothered; his long strides never faltering the way yours did as you stumbled beside him. As mildly uncomfortable as the gesture was, you were thankful for the arm that rested on your shoulder, gently pushing you along and assuring you stayed upright. 

You glanced up at him, and it was then that you noticed his conspicuous appearance was due to more than just his eccentric attire. Granted by the easy light of the morning sun, your eyes settled on the skin that peaked out from behind the corners of his mask; the rosy tint you would have normally expected instead taking on a more pallid sheen. The soft, rounded ears one would typically envision were replaced with a sharp point, cool grey undertones teasing the idea of a walking corpse.

You tore your eyes away, forcing them back onto the path in front of you. Though you were pretty sure you hadn’t been caught staring, you figured it best to keep your gaze down, pretending to suddenly find great interest in the patterns of stones that lay beneath your feet. The three of you continued like that for some time, the silence occasionally broken with a hum from the stranger as he dragged you and the cat-beast along. 

At last, you arrived at another of the burtonesque structures, and your heart skipped a beat when you realized it was the same building you had fled from not an hour earlier. Now, though, it looked different as you entered; the once carefully sealed coffins that had been neatly stacked against the walls laid in disarray, lids strewn about the dim chamber. You could hear the muffled chatter of voices from deeper inside, words unrecognizable yet clearly coming from no small amount of people. Seemingly unconcerned with the state of the room, the stranger led you further in until you reached another towering set of ancient doors, wasting no time as he pushed them open. 

Immediately the once muffled chatter became nearly deafening, a wall of joyous voices and bright lights hitting you full force as you stepped inside. Brilliant flames in countless shades of purples, oranges, and pinks cast the room in an otherworldly glow, reflecting off intricately framed mirrors that hung like doorways on each of the octagonal walls. Though their faces were skewed by the rich violet hoods in which they were adorned, what appeared to be hundreds of people filled the space, attention turned to the crown jewel at the center of it all: A grand, bewitching mirror suspended in mid air before them.

Time stood still as you took in the site, and again you were left wondering if this was really a dream after all. You almost felt like some sort of voyeur, a spectator looking through opera glasses at a show, until a boisterous voice from behind reminded you that you too were in this scene.

“Grata omnibus novis promissis magorum collegii corvino nocturni! Paenitemus absentiam meam in adventu tuo, videtur unus ex novis condiscipulis tuis paulo nimis cupere ut initium hic capere et amissam vulnerare. Sed non sollicitudin ante! Eas incolumes reperire potui, si omnes tam benigni esses ut tempus diutius maneret dum digestae sunt!”

You could feel the heavy weight of perception as the stranger finished his speech, drawing the attention of those gathered round. It was a small mercy, not being able to fully see their faces, and though a twinge of anxiety still nipped at your heels, you at least had the reassurance that your eyes would not meet. You could feel the hand on your shoulder begin to push lightly, and again you found yourself blindly following the guidance of the strange man. 

Walking deeper into the crowded chamber, it wasn’t hard to see where he was leading you; the grandiose center mirror beckoning you closer and leaving no room for questions. You stopped just short of it, and as you looked into the smooth glass surface, you were surprised to be met not by your reflection, but instead an inky black void.

Another unintelligible string of words left the stranger’s mouth, and inexplicably from the midnight depths smoke began to rise as a figure emerged. The visage of a comedy mask, more stoic than theatrical, came to life before your very eyes. The thought struck you that maybe this wasn’t a mirror, that it was some sort of screen playing a pre-recorded video or one of those live v-tuber things, but given all the unexplainable things you’d already experienced in your short time in this strange place, you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

The stranger and masked entity exchanged a few words, and soon enough you felt yourself being nudged forward. You looked over to the stranger, who had taken a few steps back, and he gestured to the entity who now fixed you with a stern gaze. Despite the hallowed pits that sat in place where its eyes would be, it was obvious the entity had its sights set solely on you, unabashed scrutiny making you squirm.

An uncomfortable tension fell between you as it stared you down, and you got the feeling that the moment was dragging on longer than it should have. The longer you stood there, you noticed how its expression began to subtly change, the unconcealed judgement it had greeted you with turning into something you couldn’t quite place. From your peripheral vision you could make out the stranger as he began to impatiently fiddle with his gloves, but just as he looked as if he were about to speak, the masked entity cut in.

“...Nullus est.”

“..Quid?”  the stranger asked.

“Nullus est. Nullum locum in hoc mundo haec anima pertinet. Nec cum hominibus, nec cum fais, nec cum bestiis. Non est una ex nobis, et quamvis origo eius mihi ignota sit, non est ex nostro mundo.”

Gasps erupted around the room as the entity finished, murmurs and whispers growing louder amongst the crowd as the weight of their gazes doubled with newfound intrigue. The already messy attempt at organization amongst the hooded figures only diminished further as some leaned in or pushed their way forward for a better look, and it was clear the room was on the verge of chaos. You stumbled back, unsure what to do or what was said to spark the outburst, but before any danger could befall you, a sudden flash of bright light cracked through the air.

“Silentium!”

Tag List: @iris-arcadia @coffeedragonhobbyist @tacharie

[scribbles-here]

Leona knew it was foolish to let something get between him and a nap. He looked down at the figure sleeping against his warm body. He could feel your breath against his chest. His ears twitched every time a little snore would escape you... he would have to bother you about that later. Just the night before you argued about whether or not you were a snorer. He should have taken out his phone to record some proof.

How did he let himself become so vulnerable? Like a domesticated house cat. He already collected the rodents and bugs because you were too scared to do it yourself.

The weather was nice today, the sun was up, but not blazing, the shade offered a comforting coolness. The grass was as welcoming as a bed after a hard day at practice. This was the perfect situation for a nap, and yet the slacker prince could not find it in him. He frowned at the thought. Watching you seemed to be so much more interesting. How did he get here, in his homeland, under a tree, with a bothersome rascal laying on his chest? And why did he want to keep you there forever?

He sighed and slipped one arm behind his head while the other reached down to poke your sleeping cheek, “And you drool,” he muttered, but where disgust should have filled his tone, there was a hint of fondness instead, “I could attack you right now,” he added, but he and the leaves shading you both knew he would never do it. 

Your cheek was pressed up on your arm, which was splayed on his chest like it belonged there.  

A little breeze went through the savanna, brushing through his hair and the trees. It was not too warm and not too cool today. He wrapped his arm around you, letting his hand rest on your back where he rubbed up and down. It was a move he learned from you. When he would force you to cuddle in his dorm room, you would roll your eyes and rub his back, up and down, soothing him. Leona was too proud to admit how much he loved it. It was a strange thing, wanting to bring someone the same comfort they brought you.

You belonged here. With him.

©rooksamoris 2025. do not steal or translate my work!

support me on ko-fi!

[scribbles-here]

Can i request a s/o say "see you tomorrow" but when he turns away they immediately grab his sleeves (maybe they don't want to leave him yet)😭 thank you so much!!❤️❤️

— Housewardens : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. established relationship. dividers: uzmacchiato.

note: I seen your ask about wanting the housewardens! I had a fun time writing this so hope you enjoy!!

Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚

"Tomorrow, then," he says with a neat nod, prepared to walk off with hands neatly behind his back—when he feels it. A gentle tug at his sleeve. He stops mid-step, almost startled by the contact. He turns, a flush already climbing his neck. “Is… is something wrong?” he asks, confused. You shake your head and smile, still holding his sleeve like a lifeline. He stares for a moment, and the realization dawns on him slowly. His cheeks darken more. “You… just wanted me to stay?” he murmurs. His posture relaxes, a rare vulnerability flashing across his features. “I-I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay… just a little longer. For you.”

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

Leona leans against the archway as you say goodbye, eyes half-lidded, voice low and gruff. “Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.” He gives a lazy wave with one hand, already turning to go. His tail flicks idly behind him. Then—tug. He halts, shoulders tensing. You’ve taken hold of his sleeve, just barely. You’re looking down—quiet, hesitant. Like you're trying not to seem clingy. Like you're afraid of asking for more. He glances over his shoulder, one brow arched. You nod, sheepishly. “I just… wanted a bit more time with you.” Leona sighs. Long. Drawn out. But he doesn’t pull away. “…Tch. You’re real annoying sometimes, you know that?” he mutters, though there’s no heat in it. “…Guess I didn’t really feel like leaving yet either,” he mumbles. “You just beat me to it.”

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

Azul bows slightly, ever the gentleman. “Until tomorrow, my pearl.” He turns on his heel, coat flaring. And then—tug. Your fingers hold his sleeve delicately like you’re afraid to break a spell. He stops immediately, looking over his shoulder with wide, uncertain eyes. "...Oh?" he says, voice barely above the night breeze. You don’t respond. You just give him that soft look—the one that makes his composure waver every time. His breath catches. “I see… you don’t want the evening to end yet.” A small, real smile touches his lips, He gently takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Neither do I.”

Kalim Al-Asim ༉⋆｡˚

“See ya tomorrow!” Kalim beams, arms wide as if he’s trying to hug the entire evening sky. “Can’t wait to see you again!” He’s already halfway into a joyful spin when—tug. He stumbles slightly, blinking down at your fingers curled around his sleeve. His brows rise in curiosity. “Whoa—hey! What’s up?” he asks brightly. “Did I forget something? You okay?”You shake your head, For a second, he blinks. Then that smile returns—softer now. Deeper. He gently places his hand over yours on his sleeve. “Huh? You wanna hang out a little more?” he asks, voice almost breathless with wonder. “Aww, I was hoping you'd say that! I wasn’t ready to say goodbye either!”

Vil Schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚

The golden twilight frames his silhouette perfectly—of course it does. Vil always seems touched by sunlight, regal even in the quietest moments. He brushes a strand of his immaculate hair behind his ear, already half-turned. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile, nodding. Already poised to walk off when he feels a gentle tug on his sleeve. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “…Darling?” His voice is soft, but there’s a thread of concern woven in. “Something wrong?” You don’t speak. You just look up at him with that quiet, aching expression—the one that says I’m not ready for this moment to end. Vil inhales, then exhales like he’s shedding a layer of performance. His eyes soften, expression shifting from polished to painfully real. “Ah,” he murmurs. “Well… who am I to deny you a little more of my company?” he says, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s take the long way back then."

Idia Shroud ༉⋆｡˚

Your goodbye is brief—almost too brief. “See you tomorrow,” he mumbles, trying to scuttle away before his social battery dies. Hoodie up, eyes avoiding yours. He turns, taking one step, then another tug. He freezes. You’re holding onto his sleeve, just enough that it stops him mid-stride. He turns his head slightly, hair glowing faintly with the smallest hint of pink, his voice even smaller. “y-yeah?” he asks, barely above a whisper. You don’t say anything, just look at him. And that look says everything. “Okay… just five more minutes. Or twenty. Or... however long you want.”

Malleus Draconia ༉⋆｡˚

“Until we meet again,” Malleus says solemnly, gazing down at you with timeless grace. He turns, the weight of the night settling around him—when he feels a light tug at his sleeve. He pauses. Slowly, he turns his head, puzzled. “…You wish for me to stay?” There’s something almost childlike in the wonder behind his question. Like he’s still not used to someone wanting his company. You nod gently, fingers still curled into his sleeve. He looks at your hand, then back to you. Slowly, he smiles—something soft and ancient blooming in his expression. “Then I shall stay. Even until all the stars die out.”