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[yiiyiiwrites]

🏹 | The Hunt |

Eris Vanserra x shifter/spring court reader(Tamlin’s cousin). [Acotar masterlist]

Summary: unable to turn down Beron’s invitation and the equinox hunt, you have to mind where you tread in the autumn court. The scheming Vanserra brothers and the hunt where you could so easily become the hunted if you were to shift. (like Tamlin and the rest of his bloodline, you can shift into an animal). 3920 words

Brothers oldest to youngest: Eris, Theadon, Marcellus, Theron, Sandros †, Deimos † and Lucien. (Not edited).

The autumn equinox used to be one of your favourite celebrations as a child, but as you grew up, it became woven with politics. It had been a week since the fireworks, smoke still hung in the air, curling around the low branches of trees and around your ankles as your leather boots sunk into the mud.

The high lord, Beron had extended an invitation for the hunt. A tradition for nobles and every other sucker who tried to sweeten the Vanserra’s and their court. You however, were not so lucky. Forced to join the men and buff away any conflict before it got worse.

With the past fifty so years under the mountain and the aftermath of Aramantha’s reign, this would be the first of many hunts going forward now that the courts were finding a bit of normalcy.

“You cannot be serious,” you snarled, crossing your arms over your chest and balling your fists out of sight under your elbows.

The thick bodice and riding jacket drew a quick breath from you as you fought to exhale a deep sigh. It had been decades since your last hunt in autumn, your hips a little wider and your breasts fuller. You’d binded your stomach and chest, trying to fit into the traditional garments Beron had gifted you when you were much younger.

Theadon Vanserra’s golden eyes flitted to your chest, smirk tugging his thin lips. “Never complained before,” he said, shoving his hands in a pair of soft brown leather gloves. The second son of autumn, a few years younger than Eris.

He huffed, blowing the curl of ginger hair back out of his eyes. His beauty well crafted as if an artist had took centuries to carve the sharp lines of his straight pointed nose and high cheek bones out of marble. You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander whenever you found yourself in his company. Theadon lapping it up, flirting back with you and trying to inch over the boundaries you’d set with him.

“Can always ride with me, pet.”

The chestnut horse behind you nudged you between your shoulder blades with its muzzle and you stumbled forwards, whirling around and jabbing a pointed finger to the next Vanserra brother.

“You know you’re much more likeable when you don’t speak, Marcellus,” you snapped at the third Vanserra brother. The fiery red hair duller, blonder than the rest of his siblings.

Marcellus didn’t pay you much mind, snorting at your half ass reply and pulling the reigns beside him. The horses long glossy tail flicking you in the face as it circled back to the front of line with his father.

Theadon was a tease and you frequently played into it, using his advances to gain the attention of one particular Vanserra. Marcellus though all talk, nasty venomous tongue, but never did anything to physically harm you.

The seven brothers seemed to be dropping like flies, the middle one leaping from his saddle and blocking your path to Theadon and his sandy stead.

“How about you shift and we’ll chase you, pet.” Theron, named after the hunter of autumn and the meanest of the pack. “So get your ass on that horse and don’t complain again.” He shoved you aside, hand grasping the back of your neck as he guided you back to Theadon.

Theron Vanserra, middle child that went to extremes to gain a scrap of attention from his father. You were yet to see a kind side to him, even when you grew up in their court and ran around with them as kids.

Ever since his twins Sandros mysterious death, Theron made it his mission to make your visits as short as possible. You’d happily let him run you out of autumn if wasn’t for the eldest Vanserra keeping you there.

“Brother, she’s a lady not a pup,” Theadon chuckled, his forced laugh cut short as Theron shoved you towards the horse. He placed his gloved hands on your hips and lifted you over the horse, your fingers wrapping around the reigns trying to pull yourself up. You don’t need to summon any strength though as Theadon pushed against the back of your thighs to help you swing a leg over onto the saddle. Your boot brushed the steads sandy coat, a line of dirt left in its wake.

You don’t bother snapping at him, Theadon a lesser evil when it came to the brothers of the hunt. Eris hadn’t participated in years since he’d become General and took on more responsibilities.

“Mutt maybe,” Theron mumbled, scratching the stubble on his jaw. The leather hunting gear he wore, scratched and worn as if it were his way of showing off his skills and power.

You wished you knew the person responsible for his crooked nose, only to thank them for breaking it.

Theadon grabbed your wrist before you could even curl your fingers and swipe a punch, your arm pinned by your side as you glared down at it. You’d been too consumed with rage that you hadn’t noticed him climb on the saddle behind you, his warmth pressing against your back.

“Comfortable?” Theadon murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He wasn’t asking though, just trying to distract you from tumbling down and going for his younger brother. Not that he’d let go of you.

He shifted sinking closer to you, back of your head knocking his firm chest. His knuckles swiped the braid down your back and he draped it over your shoulder, giving it a little tug. You couldn’t relax though with Theron snapping at you, every bone in your body rigid and your spine upright ready to defend or attack.

Theron’s face was always twisted with disgust whenever his gaze caught you, like he’d been chewing on a wasp. You still couldn’t believe that Theron and Marcellus had married noble fae. He took one more glance at you and spat on the ground, hoisting the bow and arrow back over his shoulder as he walked to his horse. A grumble echoing away with him.

Fae females were not allowed to ride alone during the hunting parties, an escort always needed. Which is why you found yourself like every other solstice hunt with Theadon whispering in your ear, one hand on your stomach to keep you from sliding away and his other on the reigns as the horse galloped through the rough terrain.

The rising sun broke through the tight knitted trees, sending golden rays over the red rolling hills of autumn in the distance. You squinted, hoping the light would blind the hunters and allow the animals to escape before they met the sharp tip of an arrow or canines of the dogs scrambling near the pounding hooves.

“Must be cold when you hop in and out spring and summer, much like my brother’s beds.” Theadon doesn’t bother keeping his voice low, deep sigh fanning the crown of your head.

“Not your bed though,” you said, wincing as his fingers dug into your stomach. You thanked the gods that you’d chosen thickest bodice, bronze embroidery adding more armour to protect. His warning enough for you to stop before you said too much.

Theadon hummed, pulling the reigns tighter in his other hand and rested it on your thigh. “I do wonder…” he mused, “does Eris know how easy it is for you to lay with another.”

Rumours had followed you ever since you were dumped in the autumn court. A fae of spring raised to act as a bridge between the two courts and smooth out any grievances. And with that task came a lot of talk. How you’d worked your way through the brothers and chased the youngest back to spring. You’d never revealed the truth, the only one that mattered was him and he knew you.

A chorus of howls tore through the forest, horses stomping to a halt as if they all stopped to listen to your reply.

The men ahead were searching beyond, a lone hound escaping the undergrowth of a thorny hedge with a brown fox between its teeth.

You looked away, but Theadon grabbed your chin and forced you to watch the snapping of its neck.

“Is that what you look like as a pretty little fox?” He asked, hand trailing down the column of your throat. “I remember you shifting as a child, just a pup.”

Hunting was the one thing you hated, autumns plea of killing all the runts of their animals. The odd brown foxes that were deemed unworthy compared to the fiery orange coated ones they trained as messengers. The one form you’d taken on, but you were able to blend into whatever court you were in. A fluffy white coat for winter, orange for autumn and silver for spring.

You’d only shifted once in autumn and vowed never to again. Theron and Sandros had chased you through the forest, straight into a badgers home. You still had the scars from their claws on your back as you tried to dig your way out.

“Maybe I’ll shift and rip your throat out. I’m sure you’d like that,” you said leaning your head on his chest and peering up at him. The deep line between his brows softened, lips curving into a smirk.

“Mmm tempting, maybe you can shift some of these layers off later for me?” He whispered, gaze dropping from your lips to your breasts.

Smooth, too damn smooth. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, the way he easily fell back into flirting. “In your dreams Vanserra,” you said, scanning the forest and soon regretting it as your gaze found Theron’s.

The smile dropped from your face as his horse trotted back to the line near you. There was an overall darkness to the middle brother, cherry red locks cut short so it never got in his way. Eyes of bronze that darkened as soon as they narrowed at you. Brawn and brain, even if he played into the brawn more. Everything he did calculated, you couldn’t help but think he’d been plotting your downfall ever since you first stepped into autumn as a child.

“The things you do in my dreams,” Theadon whispered, but before he could divulge all the dirty details a force barrelled into his horse.

The hold around your waist fell away, your body slamming to ground. Pounding of hooves shook the roots beneath the earth and you curled into yourself hoping you wouldn’t get trampled on. Voices boomed in the distance, hounds barking and teeth snapping, but you couldn’t peel your hands away from your face.

Muffled sounds filtered through the shield you’d created around you, your foxes senses picking up the crack of broken twigs at your back. You inhaled, trembling breath trying to push back, there was no way you’d shift. Not in autumn.

Something hard hit your elbow and you lowered your arm, peeking over at Theron. You just wanted to burrow into the ground and be rid of the bastard. He nudged you again, thick mud staining your dress as his boot met your knee.

“Up you get, pet,” he said through gritted teeth, “follow me or don’t follow me, I don’t care. Just keep up.” He didn’t spare another glance at you, his figure halfway up the sloping path by the time you’d stood.

The early morning fog long gone, your surroundings crisp and clear of anyone but him. Even the wind did not carry the yells of the hunting party or the sounds of their movements. The forest too quiet for your liking.

You trudged after Theron, glaring at his back.

“Watch where you’re going,” he called over his shoulder as he side stepped a foxes hole. A hare dove into the bushes at his booming voice, browning leaves showering the earth in its wake.

A whip of wind pushed you forwards, your legs like jelly as you tried to keep your balance. The heel of your boot on the edge of a large hole of a fallen trees ripped roots.

You trailed after Theron, climbing atop the fallen tree and walking across the stream. The trunk slick with moss, slippery beneath you that you didn’t bother lifting your feet but sliding them along. You clutched your skirt, balling it up in your fist as you thought out the best path that didn’t lead to the icy water below.

“Maybe if you watched where you were going earlier, we wouldn’t be trekking through the sodding woods,” you snapped, jumping down to the other side of the stream.

Of course Theadon would hang back and look after the horse, he’d be guaranteed another stead to get back to the castle on. You on the other hand were being led gods knows where into the golden forest of autumn with someone who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.

The hunter, bully. Just like his father, you dread the day if Theron ever became high lord. He didn’t bother acknowledging your words or your presence, his fists clenched by his side as he zigzagged the makeshift path. Horses hooves leading him back the way you’d come that morning.

You scrambled up the muddy terrain, nails scraping against the branch you used as leverage to hoist yourself over. The mist of rain weighing down your riding jacket, another shackle to keep you down in the court.

The howling wind tore through your hair, the woven braid over your shoulder coming undone. Stray strands sticking to your neck and shielding your sight.

You felt the snap before you saw it, iron teeth sinking into the flesh of your ankle. The tears rolling down your cheeks burnt, voice hoarse as you screamed once again.

"I told you to watch where you're going," Theron snarled, crouching down beside you and taking the curved side of the iron trap in each hand.

“Get it over with,” you snarled, regretting the rise of your voice as you moved in anger and felt the searing pain shoot up your leg.

Theron paused, fingers slipping from the trap. “Why don’t you shift? Sure you’ll be able to get out of that one yourself. It will make for good entertainment at least,” he said, his knuckles brushing against your jawline.

Against your better judgement, you spat in his face. Your saliva rolling down his freckled cheek, he froze. His nostrils flaring, body trembling with what you could assume as a blinding rage. He lifted a curled fist and drew his arm back, flames spreading across his knuckles.

You clamped your eyes shut, felt the heat crashing forwards, but nothing came. A chorus of whimpers in your left ear made you dare to peak in front of you.

Three hounds, one by your side sitting patiently for you to greet them. Another sniffing the edge of the iron trap. The last growling at Theron, hair raised on its back as it forced him to walk back.

“Like calls to like,” Theron spat.

You didn’t know if it was the loss of blood or the eldest Vanserra, but as he appeared through the trees your head become heavy. Heartbeat drumming against your chest.

“Mother’s looking for you,” Eris said, head nodding to the pathway behind him.

Walking painstakingly slow, you tracked his smooth movements as he made his way to you. Eris dropped to his knees, lightly pushing the hounds nose away from the trap. He rubbed his jaw, amber eyes flitting from your ankle to your face.

“Do you ever do as you’re told,” he said, prying the iron teeth apart. The lock clicked back into place and his hand cupped the back of your calf as he moved it away from the trap.

“Tell me what to do, I might just do it just for you.”

He shook his head and lifted you into his arms. Warmth spread as you laid your head on his shoulder and draped your arms around his neck. His hounds scouted off ahead, running as quick as shadows that you couldn’t keep up with them.

You slid your palm from the back of his neck and rested it on his chest. His heart beating too slow and repetitive compared to your erratic one. You’d blame it on the wound if he dared to bring it up.

“Where are you taking me, General?” You asked as the trees gave way to golden hills in the distance, a few wooden huts dotted the perimeter.

“The barracks, so keep your mouth shut,” Eris whispered, lips pursed and head held high as he walked through the checkpoint.

Suits of bronze and red parted for Eris, heads lowering in respect and they did not rise till his back faced them. You watched his unit scurry around, your chin propped on top of his shoulder. Foxes weaved through the soldiers boots, bound letters attached to their back.

You’d never been to the outer edge of the generals quarter. Ladies stayed within the centre of the court and were normally accompanied by a chaperone if outside. You however, knew the secret passageways in the castle and ancient crumbling pathways that were rarely used.

Eris’s grip tightened on you, his gaze flitting to the two guards stationed either side of the largest wooden cabin you’d ever seen in autumn. They parted, gloved hands pulling the oak doors open so that the General could enter. Gaze fixed ahead, Eris walked through the narrow corridor to the left.

Lanterns flickered, flames roaring to life as if the General had summoned them himself. The terracotta tiles on the floor were so clean you could see waxy shine coating it and the reflection of his flames dancing between each square.

The last door opened and closed as Eris walked in, large table dominating the room. A map covering up most of it, but it curled up as soon as your gaze wandered the red ink painting the Autumn court. Eris sat you atop a desk, inks and parchment neatly placed to one side.

You shrugged off your riding jacket and let it fall behind you, gaze following Eris whose back faced you. He pulled open some drawers, glasses clinking together in one hand and rags in another. Placing your palms on the desk, you leant back as he walked back to you, brows furrowed as he stared at your boot. He shoved a bottle of green liquid into your hand, head jerking for to drink up.

Popping the cork off you gagged at the stench, but tipped the bottle back and drank the lot. The thickness of the potion coated the back of your throat and you coughed, fist colliding with your chest as you tried to rid yourself of the burnt taste lingering. The ringing in your ears disappeared, vision clearing the haze away.

"It must be bad," he mumbled as he crouched down, fingers untying the knot from your laces. "Not even one word." A smile tugged the corner of his lips, his amber eyes flicking back to yours.

"You told me to keep my mouth shut," you said, brushing the hair out of his face and back over his shoulder. Your breaths quick and heavy, the damned corset cutting into your ribcage. Not at all anything to do with the General on his knees before you making light work of pulling the laces out of your boot.

"So you do, do as you're told."

The banter more to distract you, the iron still swimming around your blood from the trap. You wouldn't lie, it felt like your ankle had been ripped off, never mind torn apart from a hunters trap.

"Like I said, only for you," you said through gritted teeth, Eris's fingers and palm were coated red, boot discarded to one side. You tugged the bow at the centre of your corset and pulled the ribbon free, allowing yourself the room to draw a deeper breath.

Eris raised a brow, but didn't ask what you were doing, only rolled your sock down your ankle slowly leaving it halfway on your foot.

You fanned your face with your hand, a bead of sweat rolling down your chest. "God's it's so hot in here, are you hot?" The iron making you a crumbling mess in front of him.

"You know I'm hot," he said without a missing a beat, he swiped a cold paste on the wound, touch soft and precise. Always so careful when it came to you, just not with words.

"God's this barbaric court, hunting down an animal all because it's not deemed good enough. Why couldn't I get a beast like Tam? I'd happily hunt those...Do you know who broke Theron's nose?" You rambled on, word after word tumbling out before you could stop. Eris's laugh shutting you up, his broad shoulders shaking as his hands hovered a safe distance from your wound.

He leant his elbow on his thigh and his head arched to peer up at you, amber eyes flickering like the flames. "You do realise who you're complaining to?" Eris asked, his attention returning to the cloth in his hand. He wiped the blood from your ankle, wrapping a strip of gauze around the wound and tying it in place.

"I'm just," you said, pausing as he rose to stand. Your gaze trailing his chest and the thick column of his throat. "Just thinking if you're next in line..." you whispered as he leant down, forcing you to topple back, but his palm found the small of your back keeping you in place.

You couldn't blame the corset for the tremor in your breath, heat spreading the expanse of your back beneath his touch. Eris's copper hair fell from his shoulder shielding you from the light, gliding against the bare scrap of skin on your chest. His other hand slid up your thigh slow, but he did not break away from your gaze.

"I broke it," Eris said, nose nudging yours.

"Thank you," you said, you grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and you pressed your lips to his.

Eris retreated from you, hand slipping away from your back. "You want to know why?" He asked, finger hooking under you chin and making your gaze connect with his once again.

The back of his hand traced your cheek and jaw, you closed your eyes melting into his touch. you nodded, humming for him to continue.

"Because he hunted you when you shifted."

You eyes shot open. You hadn't told anyone that story, not even your parents. Eris must have heard his brothers bragging about it back then, as he'd turned up at your bedroom that night and helped you tend to the cuts on your back. He'd held your hand, let you sob in his arms as the cleaning balm set into the wounds. Never asked you asked any questions, his silent presence soothing enough.

"They try to make out that you're as delicate as a flower in spring, but you're as strong as the thorns guarding your borders. I see you," he said, framing your face in his hands. "The way you dance between courts, use those pretty words to escape much worse and how you do it all on your own."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you managed to whisper, tears threatening to spill over your lashes.

"No pretty words for me?" He asked, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"Kiss me."

Wrote this whilst I was sick so might be some errors etc. but I always wanted to write some of the other Vanserra brothers and I originally wrote another Eris fic and this is like a spin off from that. Hope you like :)

[the-banana-0verlord]

mm as I saw that the requests are open, I had this idea, well I would like headcanons for rook, vil , jamil, lilia with an s/o who has an overprotective little sister (she thinks that nobody is good enough for her older sister) and is a little mean with strange, thk <3 have a nice day :))

I feel like the characters have more chemistry with the sister than with the reader but anyways-

Thank you for the request and here it is!

How the twst boys would react to a S/O who has an overprotective little sister

Note:gn reader, a bit of a crackfic. God forbid I write Vil's surname correctly.

💅💅💅

Vil Schoenheit

💅Him? not good enough for you? Yeah, sure.

💅Tries to ignore your sister as much as he can.

💅But when she gets too insistent, he replies with: “If I'm not good enough for them, what makes you think you are?”

💅That shuts her right up.

💅She finally learns to respect and even admire the boy.

💅He teaches her how to do makeup and kickass.

💅Congrats, now you have two bodyguards.

🦇🦇🦇

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇Sometimes you wonder if he dates you just to bicker with your sister.

🦇Come to think of it, her and Sebek are basically the same.

🦇Absolutely loves to spook her.

🦇But after a well run prank war,(that you were in the middle of) she accepts him in the family.

🦇He sometimes bring her souvenirs from his trips.

🐍🐍🐍

Jamil Viper

🐍The embodiment of the “What's with this sassy... lost child?” meme.

🐍Don't get him wrong, he knows how to deal with children, he practically raised Kalim, but this is a whole other thing.

🐍He tries his best to be nice, give her gift, etc.

🐍Yet he can't have a moment alone with you without her watching you like a hawk.

🐍The last braincell stopping him from going apeshit is about to snap.

🐍Turns out all he had to do was cook because damn did she get nice when he made your family wet burgers.

🐍His brain still fails to comprehend what happened.

🏹🏹🏹

Rook Hunt

🏹I mean, it's not hard to get weirded out by this man.

🏹Acts like he's sad about it but he actually finds it very funny.

🏹You absolutely know he does, too.

🏹His poems worsen it.

🏹At one point she tries to sabotage him with a prank.

🏹Knowing she'd come, he surprised her there. He promised to not tell if she doesn't too.

🏹Little did she knew he had turned her prank against her.

🏹Now she has a fearful respect for him, leaving you puzzled and him positively smug.

***

Hope you enjoyed it!

Have a good day/night!

[peachpassionfruit]

if it wasn’t for the nights!

🏹 02. wake up, it’s time for school

You sighed, hot tears streaming down your face. With one hand, you were tossing strewn out clothes back into your newly-unpacked suitcase, and with the other, you were dialing the number of an airline to find any available tickets back to Mondstadt for as soon as possible.

The waiting song signaled a long queue, so you huffed, resolving to wait for your friends and the drinks they promised. You could really use a daze to knock you out of this reality. The one where you had transferred to your boyfriend’s college to be with him; the one where he had cheated on you. And not even come after you.

Every hair on your body stood up when you heard the main door to the dorm creak open, footsteps sounding through the hall. Paralyzed with fear, you grabbed your phone and snuck under the bed covers, hiding yourself with a blanket.

“…I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you were dating…” a low voice sounded, and you froze. “How could you keep that from your friends?” A few deep chuckles. And you realized your door was open. The new busy tones emitting from your phone threatened to give you up.

“Alhaitham? Didn’t he move out of the dorms?” Another voice said, and the footsteps grew closer. You clamped your hand over your mouth, not daring to make a sound. Light flooded in as the door opened wider, with a few stifled snickers.

“Alhaitham! Wake up, it’s time for school—” a familiar voice teased, yanking at the covers. But with the grip your legs had on then, the end of the covers folded under your feet, it didn’t budge. You internally cursed as they tugged again, the blanket finally giving way and revealing you.

A scream sounded. A chorus of two more joined in. You took one look at them, seeing…

The three boys from the welcome party, and…

Childe.

Then you screamed.

↞ | m.list | ↠

🏹 notes … heyyy guys im not doing much at all so kind of frequent updates but im off to work rn and imma be kind of busy in the upcoming week but ill still try to update often!!! timestamps don’t matter — also tumblr isn’t letting me paste anything on my phone rn so I’ll add the directory at the bottom on my computer later

🏹 taglist … open!! msg/comment to be added (this is my secondary blog so when i reply to comments it may show as @coconutmilkrefresher so just know that’s me) @alisonyus @tiddieshakeshownu @lxkeeeee @sheraeera @sketcheeee @sukunasrealgf @sweet-seraphim @ulquiorraswife @scaramochi-lover @beriiov

<3 M

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 11

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Series Masterlist |Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: Lazy Friday. This chapter contains: Nudity, mentions of child abuse Word count: 2.5K Note: This chapter is a bit different from the others. Not much plot happening, just some domesticity and slice of life moments. I typically like all my chapters to propel the story in a significant way, but I also enjoy writing about simple things that make up a life. Let me know if you enjoy these slow moments!

You laid on the couch with Daryl. He had his back against the armrest and you sat between his legs.

You sighed happily. “Just think: we get to do this for the next two days.”

“Mmmhmm,” Daryl mumbled, holding you close. "'m gonna need something' ta eat 'fore I hike yer skirt back up. Ya still got that delivery shit on yer phone?"

You sat up, full of excitement. Daryl leaned forward, keeping you in his arms. 

“No delivery today,” you announced. “I’m making dinner!”

Daryl nuzzled your cheek. “Didn’ know ya could cook. Yer full’a surprises, a’int’cha.”

You wiggled in his grasp trying to stand up. Once you were free, you smiled at him. “Good surprises, I hope.”

Daryl stood up, too, then put his arms around you until his hands were palming your ass again. “Mmmhmm, real good.”

“Don’t get me wound up again. You said you were hungry.” You slipped away from his hold, reaching for the remote to your smart-tv and your glasses. You put your glasses on and handed him the remote.  “You stay here. Watch whatever you want while I’m gone.”

However, by the time you were in the other room, Daryl was again at your back, large hands sliding around your hips.

His voice rumbled in your ear. “What for? I missed ya somethin’ awful--I wanna talk to ya.”

Reaching for your apron, you tried to put some distance between the two of you, but Daryl stayed close. You turned to face him. “My kitchen, my rules, Dixon.  You’re too handsy to be in here when I’m cooking.”

He traced your neckline with his nose and kissed your sensitive skin. “Why doncha jus’ order some Chinese or somethin’?”

Pushing him away, you replied, “Because I have been planning this meal all week, and I want to make it. For you. Okay?” You did your best to stare him down, but that was hard to do when you had to strain your neck to look up at him.

“Fer me?” he murmured, eyes narrowed.

“Yes, ‘fer’ you. Now get.” You slapped him gently with your Hannibal apron and started putting it on. Screen-printed on the front of the garment was Mads Mikkelson, as Hannibal Lecter, holding a butcher knife that dripped blood. The blood droplets went on to form the words. “Kiss the Cook,” in an unsettling blood-red print.

Daryl grunted at you and backed up a few steps, looking you up and down. “Whatcha gonna fry up?” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. 

You stared at him, refusing to be distracted by his handsome face. “You, if you don’t get out of here!”

He threw up his hands in surrender and backed out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the fridge and got to work.

Daryl sighed as he sat down on your couch. The furniture, the room, it was all much more cozy and welcoming than he remembered, but he had spent the last week sitting in a folding chair and sleeping on the floor. Your apartment was so much more inviting than  the house he’d been working on. The couch he sat on had a couple of throw pillows, as did the two chairs, and knitted afghans were draped over the back of each piece of furniture. He noticed lace curtains, dark violet, almost black, hung over the windows, and that you also had black-out curtains currently drawn back. Hopefully those let you sleep in when you needed it. Daryl didn’t want you getting too tired or worn out from your busy days.

Almost subconsciously he took in the details of the room, noting colors  and decor that you’d added. Later, he might be able to recall them so that the house he would share with you could feel just as cozy and warm as your apartment did right now.

With the remote, Daryl “woke up” the TV and put on a documentary series about crab fishermen. It was a series he liked to watch when it was on. The hardened determination of the boat captains and the perseverance of the crew were all things Daryl could relate to.  However, after the opening theme played, Daryl’s eyes started drooping. It wasn’t long after until he found himself slumping deeper into the couch. A moment later, his unshod feet were up on the cushion, his legs stretching to the other end.  A dark teal afghan was nearby, and soon he covered himself with it. The blanket smelled just like you, and the couch smelled like you both. Just as the soft yarn of the afghan soothed his skin, the intermingling of your scents wrapped around his soul, lulling him into a carefree slumber.

In the kitchen you finished plating. You knew Daryl probably wouldn’t mind a less than perfect plate of food, but you wanted him to feel special, wanted this evening to be special. For both of you.

Satisfied with the arrangement of the food, you opened the freezer and took out the two beer mugs that had been frosting in there most of the day. You filled each with beer. Then, you balanced the plates and mugs and carried everything to the living room.

An episode of The Deadliest Catch was nearing its end, and you absently wondered if you should put on a John Coltrane album or something by Miles Davis. However, once you fully entered the room, the sight of Daryl asleep on your couch took your breath away. You quietly set the plates and mugs on the coffee table, dinner momentarily forgotten as you watched your mate. 

You were captivated by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath one of your first knitting projects. When you looked at the teal blanket, you saw every imperfection, yet the afghan was dear to you. You remembered clearly knitting it, hours upon hours. Woven into the yarn were memories.  To see Daryl wrapped up in it, the edge of the blanket tucked under his chin, filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging.

This was the first time you saw Daryl entirely relaxed. No tension in his brow or jaw, no scowl upon his mouth. His lips parted slightly with each exhale, steady and slow. That Daryl, your fierce alpha, could relax so fully in your cozy apartment had you proud and full of adoration for the man in your living room.

You sank into the nearby chair and watched him for a little longer.  Eventually you succumbed to your hunger and quietly ate your dinner. Afterwards, you put away Daryl’s plate, and drank his beer. Whenever he finished with his nap, you’d serve it all to him again.

In the meantime, you put on an episode of Survivorman. Les Stroud was fascinating to watch. You’d never had a desire to try your hand at wilderness survival, but the problem solving skills, the ingenuity, always sparked your insatiable need to learn.  Although your chosen field was anthropology, all aspects of life intrigued you. From the symmetry and balance of plate tectonics to the predictable rhythm of a Shakespearean sonnet.  The world humans lived in, and the way humankind navigated it, was always fascinating.

Keeping the tv on a low volume, you quietly took out your current knitting project: a scarf. It was striped, somewhat, with the main color in big blocks of 10 rows, separated with a contrasting color of single rows in between each block. The large blocks were the exact blue of Daryl’s eyes; the contrasting color matched your own.  The scarf was coming along nicely and fairly quickly. You carried it around with you everywhere, using a spare moment here and there to work a few stitches or a few rows. You could only make it when Daryl wasn’t nearby. So it was vital that you finished his gift before he finished his work on the house.

Taking a pair of unused bamboo needles from your knitting kit, you carefully transferred your project from your metal needles to the wooden ones. The bamboo needles slowed your work significantly, as they were of a slightly tougher texture, however, they did not clang with each stitch. You had other gifts to make that others couldn’t see. Ro would get a knitted beanie along with some matching fingerless gloves. You thought of knitting Merle a chunky sweater. You could do it if the yarn was thick enough and the needles large enough. Of course, you would never make Daryl a sweater. The boyfriend curse loomed too large in your mind to even contemplate such a project.

As evening melted into night, without Daryl not so much as stirring, you realized how tired he must be. Had he been working too hard? Not sleeping well?  You had some trouble sleeping, yourself. Waking in the middle of the night, overwhelmed with a phantom loneliness, an ache inside that you’d not felt before meeting Daryl.  You often had to cover up with his denim jacket, clutching to it like it were your mate. Did Daryl have the same trouble sleeping without you?

Your eyes stung at the thought. You wanted only good things for Daryl, a steady job that was gratifying but not taxing, a cozy and safe place to sleep at night, and dreams filled with hope and laughter.  Soon that would happen. Soon you’d fall asleep beside him every night, and maybe Daryl looked forward to that time as much as you did.

When Daryl woke up, the apartment was still and quiet. Were it not for the campus lights shining brightly outside your window, he might have forgotten where he was. He sat up and checked the time on his phone and saw it was just after 3 A.M. Guilt came swiftly, as did regret. He’d slept away the whole evening and half the night, wasting time alone on the couch instead of spending it cuddling (or fucking) you.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he saw you’d left him a message telling him his food was in the fridge and to come to bed if he wanted.

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled and he made his way into the kitchen.

After eating the plate of food (each bite was more delicious than the last), he quietly washed his plate and utensils.

In the bedroom you were asleep on the bed with the soft light from a table lamp shining next to you. You still had your glasses on, and they sat crookedly. Slowly he removed them and set them on the bedside table before watching you again. 

You were on top of the covers, curled up beneath another afghan and his denim jacket. His heart pounded fiercely; he found the sight both soothing and scintillating. A comfort to see you nestled so, yet despair that he was not beside you.

The day’s stink and labor clung to him, so he resolved to take a quick shower before joining you. He wanted to sleep skin-to-skin, no barriers between you, aside from his unbuttoned shirt. He’d happily pass the entire weekend like that, with your naked body pressed against him.

The sound of the shower woke you up, and rather than be annoyed at the sound, a grin formed on your face. You hurriedly rid yourself of your tshirt and scrambled to the bathroom, eager to join your mate under the hot water and touch every bit of him with a soapy sponge.

You walked into the bathroom and pulled back the  shower curtain just enough to poke your head in.

“Boo!” you announced, giggling. 

Your laughter ceased abruptly when your eyes landed on Daryl’s back. You gasped, stepping into the shower/tub combo. As you did, Daryl turned swiftly around, nearly slipping on the wet porcelain until you steadied him.

“Daryl,” you half-whispered, touching his chest. “What happened?”

Daryl tried to back away from you, holding a washcloth in one fist, but there was nowhere for him to go.

His eyes were frantic, as if he were caught by something (or someone) intent on hurting him.

“Alpha,” you soothed, reaching for his face and cupping his cheek. “It’s just me, just us.”

He blinked at you, droplets of water sticking to the ends of his eyelashes, making him even more alluring.

“‘S nothin’,” he murmured. “‘Ya caught my shadow is all.”

“I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Ya--ya ain’t s’pposed ta see me like this.”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. “Naked? Wet? I’m your true mate, aren’t I? Why would you hide from me?”

Daryl huffed. His frantic expression changed into a blank look. Without turning around, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, avoiding your eyes.

You followed him out, and you both stood silently, dripping on the rug. You watched Daryl reaching backward for a towel, almost adamant you not see him fully.

Your skin slick from the water, you cornered him, pressing your body into his and throwing your arms around him. Your tears joined the water dripping from your wet hair. “Please don’t hide from me, love,” you begged. “I care for all of you, not parts of you.”

Daryl let out a shuddering breath. A few seconds passed, and he gave up his search for a towel and reached for you instead.

He kissed you, holding tightly to your jaw with both hands, molding his lips to yours until you almost melted to the floor with the passion of his kiss. He pulled away enough to look down into your eyes. Then, he lifted your arms away from his middle, and he turned around.

You traced the scars with a finger, touching each one. As you did this, you found it alarmingly easy to imagine the pain they’d caused, even though you’d never experienced anything like it. Was that due to your connection? Even without you being claimed and wearing his mark?

Daryl’s breathing slowed, and he held himself still. Eventually, he spoke.

“I was young, prolly ‘bout fourteen. Not tall ‘nough ta look tha’ ol’ man in ‘is eyes. Merle was long gone--Marines took ‘im. Jus’ me an’ my old man. No one else ta hit but me.”

You kissed his back and smoothed your hands over the toned muscles there. “What about your mom?”

“She took the easy way out.”

It took a moment before you understood. Suicide.

Daryl grabbed a towel and put it around you. ”Jus’ don’ tell Merle.”

“Merle doesn’t know?”

Daryl shook his head, causing his wet hair to hang over his eyes.

You put a hand on his chest. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He put his hand over yours, gazing at you through the tendrils of his wet hair. “He’ll blame himself.” Daryl took a deep breath. “A’int his fault. Couldn’t’ve been.”

You didn’t quite understand but you whispered, “Okay,” and put your forehead in the crook of his shoulder.  “I promise.”

Daryl used his free hand to lift your chin so you were looking at him. “I know I ain’t much to look at, not like this. I’d get if ya don’ wan’ me no more. “

“Daryl,” you gasped, tears pricking your eyes. “I think you’re gorgeous. I have since I first saw you. You have the most beautiful eyes, and you’re so strong. Look at all these muscles.” You grinned and ran your hands along his arms. Noticing a blush on his ears and creeping up his chest, you went on. “Everything about you I find wonderful, beautiful, including what I just saw tonight. You’re my mate, Alpha. Nothing could stop me from wanting you.”

He turned again, now facing you with a towel in his hand. He wrapped you in it and lifted you off the floor.

He carried you to the bedroom and put you down near the bed, drying you off before taking the towel to himself and tossing  it to the side.

You both got into bed. Daryl leaned with his back against the headboard and you kneeled next to him. 

“I want to have your pups,” you said, watching him. “I’ve always wanted a pack, a family, Daryl. Something to be part of, with a mate and pups to love. I was all alone growing up, and it sounds like you were, too, at least some of the time. As long as we’re together, neither one of us will be alone again.”

You lay down beside him, resting your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat in your ear.

“It really don’t bother ya?” He whispered, tracing a finger behind your ear.

You peered over at him. “No, Alpha. To me, you are strong; you’re perfect. Made for me.”

“Yer perfect, too, Bubbie.” Daryl whispered, holding you close and pulling the covers over you. He kissed your forehead and pressed you tightly against him. 

Next chapter

===

End notes: I have been sitting on all of these sleeping gifs for months, and I only used a few. I tried to restrain myself. You're welcome.

Thanks to @bringinsexybackk69 for all the help with Daryl's accent and dialect. Also a big thanks to my writing bffs @livingdeadblondequeen @green-eyedladywrites and @littlegodzilla

===

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[bamdelune]

In Hindsight — Character Profiles (2/2) 📹

notes. all of the main characters are in their 4th year in Teyvat Uni except for Venti.

🎐 Information

★ SCARAMOUCHE/KUNIKUZUSHI

— A (pre)medical student. He was initially going to pursue performing arts but was strictly urged by his mother to take up the medical major. Interns at one of the major hospitals aided by the university for more experience (a few higher-ups were quite confused since originally, pre-med students shouldn't be taking up an internship so early but with his mother's connections, much to much his dismay, he was able to land an honorary spot as an intern since his mother is a big investor and asset to the hospital as its director).

★ KAZUHA

— Studies literature. Kazuha switched from being a creative arts major to pursue a career in writing. First met Scaramouche at the university clinic after he had stepped in when Scaramouche was about to get hit by a deliquent at school during the 1st year. To his surprise. they became fast friends.

★ AJAX

— Ajax or as Scaramouche calls him: "Childe" due to his rather youthful personality, is a sports science major. They first met in high school and they've been glued to the hip ever since. Ajax is the person who Scaramouche has shared his deepest thoughts and feelings with.

★ VENTI

— Dropped out of college to focus on his job as a soloist in his 3rd year. He has a big following and has received multiple awards after releasing numerous albums. He met Scaramouche at an club fair during the 2nd year when Scaramouche was longingly looking at where the performance club was after a fight with his mother. Venti was a persistent person and never stopped bugging Scaramouche about it, thus, Scaramouche just allowed Venti to befriend him.

★ CYNO

— A criminal justice major. He's the dad of the group and often passes around his terribly made jests to lighten up the mood. He's dating a pharmacy major and the group is well acquainted with his boyfriend. Cyno first met Scaramouche at a curbside outside the university dorms after a fight with his boyfriend that night (he was a sobbing mess) and Scaramouche awkwardly comforted him through it.

🏹 BONUS — All of them are roommates that live in the university household. Scaramouche often tells them off for not cleaning up the house properly. Ajax shoulders all of the dormitory finances.

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as your life begins to seep out of your own body? A reboot/rebranded version of Autumn Leaves.

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (open, reply or send an ask to be added)

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[express-archives]

Hello! It is I, 🐱 Anon who finally checked your new OC blog bc i keep forgetting to do so unless you reblog it to your main blog :’D (i am so sorry T.T)

And I have so much questions about Artemis! Her introduction post really hooked me in because she sounds very intresting, so here are my questions!

1. So from the few post about Artemis, it seems she is related to Ambrose. So what are they actually? Are they blood related (and if so are they cousins or siblings?) or are they just two people who see each other as family regardless of blood?

2. Along with that, the both of them seems to have a good relationship. If that’s the case, do any of their respective Aeons know that their own Emanator is close with the Emanator of their enemy?

3. What does Artemis think about Lian?

4. Following number 3, how does she feel about Lian dating Ambrose?

5. Is she close or at least acquainted with anyone in the Xianzhou Luofu? (aka playable character we know of)

6. What does she think about the High Cloud Quintet?

7. And lastly, does she have a silly side that no one or a few people know about?

Also i just realised that you may had hinted about her in the HuoHuo’s older sibling reader post where you replied to my idea of big sister Huohuo. You made a paragraph (i think?) about how Abundance and the Hunt need each other and how they would work really well under the part of Huohuo’s older sibling who’s the Emanator of the Hunt. So nice foreshadowing aph ^_^

- 🐱 Anon

HELLO BELOVED HI ohohoho i am so glad you asked omg.... me when um. Me when oc questions 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

they are blood related! biological cousins, actually. ambrose's mother had a sister, artemis' mom, and the two children grew up very close to one another. <3 i don't know if i have ever explicitly talked about this, but their homeworld was war-ridden before ambrose drew yaoshi's attention. artemis was a child soldier basically and ambrose kiiiinda was? ambrose did a lot of work in rationing resources such as food and clean water and healing wounded folk. so a lot of times, ambrose would tend to their baby cousin's wounds. so both of them have that kind of bond that going through the same trauma together gives people.

OH MAN OK THIS ONE IS A LITTLE LONG HELLO!!! long story short, yaoshi knows, lan does not. lan knows they are related (which is part of what drew their attention to artemis in the first place) but they don't know how close the two are and artemis is kind of worried because how long can you lie to something, someone so powerful without them finding out the truth??? and what would the consequences of that be???? artemis is very different from ambrose in this way; she is scared of the aeons. she is scared of lan, in certain aspects. she is not desensitized to their absolute power like her older cousin is. she is freaking out deep down inside. artemis and lan have a very tentative relationship and artemis doesn't tell them anything at all that might indicate her care for ambrose, because she knows that if they knew... erm. yeah. but yaoshi knows. i mean, after all, artemis is one of their children too, technically. if lan ever shunned her... yaoshi's arms are open, the gentle and forgiving aeon that they are. their child, who was stolen away by the hunt, is always welcome home. just saying. but also keep in mind that artemis would 🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹 ambrose if they ever became a threat to the general balance of the universe, so it's kind of complicated HAHA i suppose the real question is this: does lan have the capacity to understand that just because artemis loves ambrose, she willl still never hesitate to do her utmost to subdue ambrose if they ever became a serious threat? who knows?

artemis and lian actually met a looonnnggg time ago when lian was in the shackling prison. she knows what it's like to do questionable things because you just love and adore someone so much (artemis protecting ambrose and lian with dan feng back then; have i ever talked about that? i don't know haha), so she sympathized with lian greatly. artemis didn't talk to her after they were released, but lian was thankful that she came to visit so often.

artemis was kind of surprised at first, i think. but she thinks it's cute! she did, however, warn lian that ambrose will bend to the abundance's will very easily and ambrose can VERY quickly become evil and fucked up, should it ever become yaoshi's will. whether or not lian takes her words to heart... who knows if they will? but artemis did her part, and if lian chooses not to be careful, then that is the vidyadhara's decision and the fault will be hers alone. artemis did her part.

to the luofu residents, artemis is just about as elusive as the aeon lan themselves. so, for the most part, no. this is largely because artemis just doesn't want to risk them finding out about how much she cares for her cousin (ambrose's ass will just sneak onto the luofu like it's no big deal though and artemis is like "wtf man i am literally trying to protect you from them?!!?!?!? 😒"). when artemis goes on the luofu, she tends to adopt disguises and false identities. jing yuan, however, knows that it is her. and she knows he knows. but for some reason, he just... doesn't say anything..? she doesn't understand why but she appreciates his discretion.

artemis probably thinks they should leave dan heng alone already LMAOOOOO i feel like she has a great amount of respect for them, but she knows that she would be really fucking annoyed if she were dan heng. dan heng is not the same person as dan feng and they seriously need to realize this already (at least, that is what artemis believes). dan heng and artemis have actually met before and i think they are... friendly acquaintances? or something like that haha. they don't know one another well enough to be FRIENDS friends but they're friendly with one another, at least.

ABSOLUTELY LMFAO i just know she's a lil silly deep down!!!!!!!! but her silliness was buried a long time ago on account of her being a child soldier. so there is silliness in her but it is very hard to uncover.

[blossomingbellflower]

It was by pure chance that Inuyasha happened to see her again. The soul collectors hadn't beckoned him to her side, knowing that he could only meet her when she willed it. He had been scouting the area on his own while his group sought refuge in the village nearby. Her scent hadn't even reached his nose when his eyes fell on her familiar figure, causing him to land roughly to catch his footing. The tree branch shook violently, sending leaves raining down, and he knew there was no hiding it. If he could ever hide his own presence from her.

He wished he could, if it meant he could watch her keep the children company, just as she used to. Somehow, coming across this memory felt like a mistake. More so as he dropped down from his perch, remorse for the past making his movements heavy. "Kikyou," he uttered, "were you here all this time?" His voice sounded hopeful, and he couldn't help himself. Since their last meeting, he could only wish that she had removed herself from the fight against Naraku and kept herself safe.

🏹 "Children, return to your parents. It is getting late and I am certain they are starting to worry. Do be quick.", Kikyou instructed kindly, giving the enthusiastic youth the softest of smiles. With a light head rub to one, she bid them farewell and watched them scamper off with post haste. Her gaze were still fixed upon their retreating backs when she greeted the hanyou prior to his own.

"Inuyasha."

Kikyou's soul collectors were nowhere to be found. After all, she had no desire to scare the young ones. It was not out of the norm for her to dismiss the creatures before she entered a village. The goal was to fit in and slip out when her tasks were done. She did not need a repeat of another child seeing her collect and consume the souls of the deceased. That incident was sheer proof that she did not belong among people. That it had been foolish of her to think she could belong anywhere in this world.

She was nothing but an aberration. A parasite. For one moment she had hope..but reality simply and cruelly set her straight.

After the children were no longer in view, Kikyou closed her eyes and sighed softly.

"You should not be here. You belong with companions..not here with me." How often did she need to say it? It was pointless looking for her and even more so to care for her. All she could give him was anguish and nothing more. It was best for him to forget her existence and continue moving forward. As much as she'd like to do more for him, she could not. It was impossible.

Kikyou could be selfish..but in the end, it would cause more harm than good. Her dearest deserved a long, fruitful and happy filled life. He earned the right to peace and a future filled with promises and dreams.

Her heart ached..as it always did when it came to the hanyou. It yearned for things that could never be again. Such feelings had to be swallowed and pushed down into the deepest recesses of her soul. Inuyasha could never know those feelings still exist or desires. It would make things more complicated for him. After all, there was another who had taken her place and doing the things she would have..if circumstances had been different.

"I know what you wish to hear and I am afraid I must disappoint you. I am simply passing through this village. I have not given up my pursuit of him nor will I." , she replied softly, her eyes having since reopened and gazing at an unfixed point upon the ground.

Theoretically, even if she did as he requested, Naraku would still find her. Their fates were intertwined and it was inevitable. Naraku only existed because of her. Kikyou could not in good conscious stop her hunt, even if she ignored everything she had lost because of him.

No matter how much he asked, Kikyou will not listen. She could not. She was not the type to depend on others to begin with. This was her problem to fix.....And..maybe Inuyasha never knew but there was one thing she had lost which broke her in unfathomable ways. The void it left would never heal and for their sake as well as hers, she will not rest until Naraku was removed from this world. She would drag him to hell with her if she must.

Then and only then..would she have some semblance of peace and can relinquish this body back to the soil, her soul to the after life.

Truthfully, Kikyou was not trying to live. There was no life for her in this world. She had to endure this miserable existence until her tasks were accomplished..or she died trying. Despite what Inuyasha wanted, there was no other path for her. Death was the only outcome for her--whether it be by Naraku's, another's or her own hands.

Angling her body away in preparation to leave, Kikyou averted her face. Some days it were easier to keep a tight rein on her emotions and other days..the grief and the sadness bubbled just beneath the surface--offering glimpses to what weighed in her heart and soul. Today it was the latter and Kikyou did not have the energy to adjust the frigid mask she usually wore.

"Return to your friends, Inuyasha. If you should see me again, pay no attention and go on your way." Kikyou's brows knitted together before relaxing.

'For your own sake, it would be best to forget or ignore my existence. That way you can continue to move forward to the future..to the light. I refuse to let you enter this darkness with me..'

"Live well and be happy." With that wish as her goodbye, Kikyou began to leave.

||@museguided||

[yuuniee]

🏹 A Plate Of Truth, A Teaspoon Of Affection 🌓

A/N: The Moon Hunter version has a confession, so it’s kinda like platonic to romantic~ I hope I didn’t write Rook too out of character. I’m trying, you know? 😭

C/W: None! Fluff with confession at the end~!

Taglist: @kreldeprince @glowingsleepystarry @helplessnight

The day had finally arrived; the day of masterchef courses. Although Lilith didn’t seem to mind anything, she was upset that a person that she genuinely cared was going to be busy for the past few days. She let out a sigh as she shook her head, gradually snapping herself out of these “indecent” thoughts that are full of Rook.

Then after the classes, here she was, sitting on the very same table she will judge the cooking of the two contestants. One that she liked, and one that she doesn’t know of.

As soon as she heard footsteps coming towards them, she turned her gaze and what greeted her was a huge shock. Because the other person that was going to go in masterchef courses was none other than one of the people that she genuinely hated; Cater.

Oh, how sweet... She thought to herself. The phone addict is here too.

But she immediately shook off her head as soon as she saw them approaching her with a plate full off... food(?).

She reluctantly took a bite while keeping an eye on the other two judges, none other than the Scarabia duo; Jamil and Kalim. As soon as she took a bite, she immediately coughed up and drank half of the water in the cup. After she was done coughing, she reached out for a sign and took one of them.

Jamil raised his sign; a one.

Kalim did too; another one.

And lastly, she raised her own sign which she added only one point out of sheer pity; a two.

She looked at their faces with a seemingly stern look while putting her sign on the table.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the potatoes are overcooked. It doesn’t go well with the half-cooked vegetables, you know?” She spoke up, but then she sighed and shook her head in disappointment, “...Be more careful about the food next time.”

Then, she crossed her arms while listening to Jamil tell his opinion after her.

Did I go overboard with my judging..? She thought again. ...Nope. I did not. They just needed someone’s honest opinion about the unidentified matter they have to call ‘food’.

A day or two later, it was her turn again. She desparately wanted to know if they improved since the first day. She was with the other judges and fellow Ramshackle members, which were Renée and Ian again.

“We’ve met again, what a surprise.” She sighed, “I hope they do better than the last time. I certainly do not want to eat a plate of that murky substance ever again.”

“Well, I think they did improve! I went there on a daily basis, and let me tell you, the food was getting delicious in each bite I took!” Ian replied as he giggled like a child, “It was yummy, and I’m sure it will be now too!”

“...I wonder how are they doing right now, surely the food wouldn’t be this late if something amiss wouldn’t happen...” Renée said as she tapped her fingers on the table.

“Why are you so impatient, Renée?” Lilith sighed again, “...I am pretty sure they are alright.”

“Well, I do hope they are.” She said as she looked for them, eyes catching theirs as they bring the plates.

“Here they are..” Ian said as he sat back and swung his legs back and forth.

——

As they tasted the food, Lilith noticed that they did improve. The food tasted pretty good, but she tried not to show it too much, but she knew a certain hunter had his eyes on her. She closed her eyes and savored each bite.

Ian raised his sign; a solid ten.

Renée raised her sign too; a nine.

When it was her turn, she proudly raised her sign as well; another ten.

“Not bad for beginners.” She smirked at them, “Keep going like this.”

Then she looked at Rook, and winked at him while smiling.

As a response, Rook put a hand on his forehead and dramatically posed as smiling back at her.

“Rook-kun, you are so in it now. Lilith-chan must’ve captured your heart quite badly, huh~?” Cater whispered as he smirked at him.

“Oh, wouldn’t you want know Monsieur Magicam? The way she winked at me just now... Oh, it’s making my heart race just the thought of the way she feels like this to me. How beauté!” He replied with a whisper and a wide smile on his face.

Well, wouldn’t he like to know?

— — —

(After Masterchef)

Lilith was now sitting on a bench while resting her head with her eyes closed.

“Dame Double!” Someone approached her.

“KYAAAAAAAAA—!!” She screamed as she jumped back, nearly falling onto the ground.

“Sorry, did I startle you too much? Here, take my hand.” The hunter offered his hand while pulling her closer by the waist.

“...Next time you’re going to come to me, warn me... Oh, Christ... What am I even going to do with you?!” Lilith turned away as she slid to the side to let him sit beside her.

“Your scared face is quite beautiful too... In fact, I find everything about you quite beautiful~” He winked back at her as he smiled, returning the gestures she did at his direction that day. In response, Lilith unconsciously put a hand on her chest, her heart beating fast.

“Lilith? What’s wrong?” He asked, his smile never fading one bit.

“...You’re such a fool, you know?” She said, now mumbling her words, “...Praising constantly, reciting poems about literally everything, your smiles and laughs... I don’t know what are you doing to me, but it’s not good. It’s... weird.”

“Oh, then my sincerest apologies. I was unaware that my actions have caught someone’s attention.” Rook replied as his smile turned into a smirk, “Shall I stop, then?”

“DON’T!” She yelled out, “I mean, don’t stop what you’re doing.” She said, looking away as her cheeks becomes painted with a bright red.

“That’s nice of you to finally speak your mind, but I can clearly see what you mean to tell me.” —He let out a laugh.— “...I love you as well...”

“...Je t’aime.” She blurted out, “...That means ‘I hate you.’... Right? Renée told me it means ‘I hate you’, so...”

“Dame Observer... She is quite the trickster, isn’t she?” He grinned, “She must have told you the wrong thing.”

“Wh-what do you mean?! Renée is from France, French’s literally her mother tongue. How can she tell me the wrong thing?!” She yelled out, the blush on her cheeks spreading to her face.

“Je t’aime aussi.” He said as he took her hand and gently kissed the back of it.

Thinking that he finally has given up, she smiled proudly while she let out a giggle.

“I am glad to hear you admit your real feelings to me, and not the ones that you hide.” The hunter smiled.

“...Something feels off. Why did you call Renée a ‘trickster’? Does ‘je t’aime’ not mean ‘I hate you’? And why are you even smiling like an idiot?!” She turned her gaze at him, her smile slowly fading away.

“Oh, so that’s how you know its meaning... Unfortunately for you, Dame Observer has lied to you. That is why I called her a trickster.” Rook’s smile never faded one bit while saying that, much to Lilith’s dismay.

“...What does it even mean?!” She visibly panicked as she backed off.

“‘Je t’aime’ means ‘I love you’, and I am more than glad to hear you say that.” He replied as he came closer to her as much as she went backwards.

“B-but... But... But but butbutbutbutbut--” Her words came out of her mouth like a sputter as she looked away while her face turned to a deeper shade of red, and she held her arms in front of her face to prevent him from seeing her. She teared up as the fear sunk in her stomach, dreadfully paining her.

“...Are you alright, Lilith?” The hunter grabbed one of her arms and pulled it away, seeing her face, “...You seem quite afraid. I assure you, I am not about to do anything.”

“Really..?” She asked, her eyes slowly meeting with his eyes, “I mean... a-all this time, I have hidden my feelings from you and... now having admitted them to you by accident... Will you not punish me..?”

“Ahh.. If that is the case, then here is what you might call a ‘punishment’.” He replied as his lips met with Lilith’s forehead, “I love you as well, Dame Double.”

“Is that what you mean by ‘je t’aime aussi’..?” She muttered as she looked down, “...If not, then--”

“Fufufu~ You learn quicker than I expected.” He laughed, “But of course, it means ‘I love you too’.”

“...I’m glad...” She smiled, but then suddenly looked away, “I-I-I mean, I guess you are not that bad for an eccentric upperclassman.”

“Well, that does depend on the person. But I must admit that I have achieved one of my goals, fufu~” He smirked as he grabbed her other arm and held her both of her hands.

“...Your hands are bigger than mines.” She quietly commented as she looked away, “...Yeah, not that bad...”

“I am quite glad that I managed to capture your heart. I feel like I have hunted something bigger than one could imagine.” He whispered in her ear as he watched her smile again.

“...You’ve ‘captured my heart’ too, I guess...” She replied with a light smile, which no one has seen it yet.

“Shall I feel honored then?” He asked as he let go of her hands and grabbed her chin with one hand while pulling her closer by the waist.

“Hey, h-hey! Wait, what are you--”

“This side of you.. is quite captivating... I just could not hold myself back any longer.” He whispered as they were so close to each other that if one could lean, their lips too, would meet.

It was as if the time stopped between them. It felt like only thing that would wake them up from that neverending dream would be the bell ringing. Lilith leaned closer and kissed his cheek.

“N-not yet. We are going too fast, you know?..” Lilith said as she broke the silence between them. Rook backed off a little as he took one of her hands and smiled at her.

“My apologies, then.” He replied and pulled his hat on his face to hide his rosy cheeks, to which the girl near her took it and wore it.

“Well, if I’m not gonna hide anything anymore, so do you.” She smirked as she looked at him while mouthing ‘Jesus Christ, this hat’s feather...’. Rook, on the other hand, was now smiling at the beautiful sight of Lilith.

He wanted to know every side of her, but he had to be patient. Surely he was going to wait for Lilith to show herself once again, but not like this. He noticed that she got up as she was now looking at him.

“I have to go, the bell just rang... See you soon.” She said as she gave his hat back.

“See you soon, Dame Double!” He waved as she went away.

“...I’ll see you soon, Lilith...”

He mouthed as his heartbeats increased, and he put a hand on there.

She was a thief, surely.

After all, she stole his heart right under his nose just like that.

She was... a different kind of beautiful...