#Alive!Reader

[blackypanther9]

Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I decided to do this Oneshot/Headcanon for both, alive!Alastor x daughter!Reader and Demon!Alastor x Daughter!Reader. Enjoy ! (Picture belongs to rightful owner !)

TAGLIST!: @meg-giry1  @wen01203

WARNING!: mentions of the S word, name calling, insults, mentions of cheating, Vox and the other Vees get bullied in public AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Human!Dad!Alastor x Human!Daughter!Reader:

When you start to talk about new Gossip:

Alastor was cooking Dinner as suddenly you bashed open the door, scaring the living daylights out of your Father. He quickly looked at you and made a face to scold you.

“Mon ange (My Angel), are you planning to give your dear ol’ Father a heart attack ?”

You ignored his scolding and gave him a big grin with a twinkle in your eyes. Alastor got intrigued.

“You will NEVER believe what I’ve heard, Papa ! That is some interesting tea indeed !”, you announced happily.

Your Father cocked his head to the side in curiosity, his smile not leaving, but it shrunk in curiosity and confusion.

“Oh ? What happened, Cher ?”

You entered the kitchen fully, pulled out a chair, sat down and looked at him.

“You do know Felicia Monrue, right ? You reported about her last week in your Broadcast, because she got caught drunk, even though there was no giggle water (Alcohol) allowed and she had to pay a hefty debt as punishment.”

���Ah...yes, I do remember her indeed. Hoho ! Such a gal getting caught.”, Alastor laughed out in humor, “Couldn’t even hold her own liquor, hahaha !”

You nodded eagerly.

“Well guess what !”

“What is it, mon petit (Little one) ?”

You looked around the house, as if anyone was listening in, then bounced and gave him a big mischievous smirk.

“Rumors have it, that she was spotted a few times with different men on her arm. She brought them home and someone heard lewd noises, while one of her neighbors swore they saw her and the different men in her bedroom, doing the forbidden act ! Can you believe it ?!”

Alastor took a sip of water, which he promptly spat out in shock, as you said that. He stared at you, then looked at his glass of water, then at the food he was cooking, then back to you and back at his drink.

“Am I sure that I am drinking water right now ?”, he muttered in shock.

“You are, Papa ! Stop being so silly !”, you replied laughing.

He looked at you again.

“You aren’t talking nonsense, right, Dear ? That poor Lady surely could never do such a scandalous thing.”

You shook your head.

“I really heard it, from more than one person too ! It already goes around like wildfire, Papa ! One even said that they have a picture of it ! If this gets out into the newspaper, her clothes store will shut down forever !”

Your Father shook his head and looked at his food, sighing in disappointment.

“Such a fine Dame and no class... Didn’t her parents teach her any manners ? How scandalous !”

You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a grin.

“Maybe it is just a faux, Papa, but it would be entertaining if it was true ! Don’t you agree ?”

“It sure would be, Cher. Anything else you heard rumors about, hmm ?”, your Father asked you amused.

“Oh ! There are new rumors about the Bayou Killer too.”

“Oh, do let me know ! I’d LOVE to hear their theories !”, your Father said enthusiastically.

“Some speculate now that it is a butcher and others that it is a doctor ! How ridiculous is that ?!”, you said laughing.

For a second the kitchen was silent and then Alastor broke out into laughter and he shook his head.

“A-a WHAT now ?! Hahahaha !”

Alastor laughed so hard that he wiped a tear away from his right eye. You looked at your Father in amusement.

“Stupid, isn’t it ? They really think you are a Doctor or even a Butcher ! I mean...you kind of are a Butcher, but at the same time, you are not !”

Alastor snorted in amusement and continued to cook Dinner, while you told him all the Gossip you heard and he discussed it all with you, happy to listen to anything you heard.

When Alastor starts to talk about new Gossip:

You were just returning from a quick shopping spree with some groceries as you saw your Father with a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a few bags from you and you both started to fill the kitchen cabinets and fridge with your catches that you got from the stores.

You knew that glint in your Father’s eyes. He heard something scandalous and amusing. You couldn’t wait.

As soon as you both finished, you entered the Living room and sat down on the couch, your Father sat down in the armchair.

“Alright, Dad, spill the tea. What rumors have you heard, hmm ?”, you pressed.

Alastor looked at you with one of his hugest smiles and started to chuckle.

“Do you remember Gwen Kosiak from my workplace, who quit his job not long ago ?”, your Father asked you.

“Yes. Why ?”

“Well my dear child, he was married and they seemed happy. Suddenly they divorced out of nowhere. Rumors have it that he cheated on his wife with the housemaid !”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“No way !”, you gasped out.

“Yes indeedy !”

You started to let out a chuckle.

“I would have never expected that from Gwen.”

“Me neither, Cher ! Me neither !”

You both chuckled and as it calmed down, your Father smirked.

“There has also been the rumor going around that the dress shop, you love to visit so frequently, is going bankrupt, because the owner of the store refuses to pay the rent !”

You stared at your Father gob smacked.

“Seriously ?”

All your Father did was nod.

“Indeedy !”

You leaned back in shock, then your face saddened.

“A real shame, guess I should look for a new favorite dress store then.”, you muttered.

“You definitely should, Cher !”, Alastor encouraged.

You could see that he wasn’t finished yet, so you waited for him to start the next section of discussion to gossip about.

“Also, Mrs. Tiana gave birth to her and her husband’s offspring ! The spawn looks nothing like them ! Hahaha !”

“You don’t think that she was going behind her husband’s back, do you ?”

“I think she was, Cher !”

“My, how scandalous ! Was it truly that bad ?”

“The child didn’t have their skin color, nor their hair color ! The child’s skin color was almost like mine and the hair was ginger ! Both of them were white and one had blond hair while the other had black hair. They both said that none in their Family tree had a different skin color, nor ginger hair ! So it just can’t be his offspring.”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“I never would have thought of Mrs. Tiana as a harlot.”, you muttered.

“None of us did, mon Cher ! Yet, here we are !”

The two of you continued to gossip and talk about rumors for a while. Alastor was always happy to listen, theorize with you and to talk about everything. He was almost like a woman, chattering about all the scoundrels that were talked about and you LOVED your Dad for that. He was practically both to you. A Mother and a Father. You never lacked anything.

In Hell:

When you start gossip:

Your Father was just about to wrap up his Broadcast in Hell, as you stormed inside. He looked at you startled, his Deer ears standing on high alert. As soon as he saw you, he rolled his eyes gently, scolding himself in his thoughts, that he got scared of you.

“Father, guess what !”, you announced happily.

Oh, he knew by that voice that you heard some gossip. He turned to you, leaving his broadcast on for now.

“What is it, Cher ?”, he asked.

“I heard some interesting tea about the Vees ! Wanna hear it ?!”

He perked up and looked at you highly interested. He snapped another chair into existence next to him and gestured for you to sit down. You did so eagerly.

“Now, what was that, Cher ?”, he asked, interested.

You were bouncing up and down on your chair.

“So, apparently Valentino and Vox are in a on and off relationship, just to screw each other, when Valentino’s harlots are too busy ! How desperate is that, Papa ?! Hahaha !”

Alastor, who sipped his black coffee, spat it back out and coughed into his sleeve from shock. Then he chuckled.

“That sounds pathetically desperate ! Hahaha ! I never thought that Vox would sink even lower than he already did !”, your Father laughed out.

“I didn’t know that Valentino was so depraved and pathetically desperate that he even fucks his own harlots ! Hahaha ! That just shows how unwanted he is !”, you laughed out.

“True, true, my Dear !”

“Oh, oh ! And have you heard that the Demon, Velvet dated, broke up with her ?!”

“Applesauce, mon petit !”, he yelled in fake shock.

“It’s true, Papa ! They apparently were dining in a restaurant and suddenly the man said that he is dumping her ass, then left the restaurant without paying too ! She left it, looking like a mess ! I bet the other two Vees had to coddle her to make it better ! HA ! How fucking pathetic for an Overlord !”

Alastor laughed loudly at that and petted your head, affectionately.

“Also, Vox tried to copy your Radio Station to make Radio Broadcasts himself, to grow bigger ! Can you believe how desperate that flat faced idiot is ?! Hahaha !”

“Is that so, Cher ?”, Alastor said partly amused, partly triggered.

“He tried to hide it from you too ! Sadly someone from his team snitched ! Hahahaha !”, you confirmed with laughter.

“Hmmm. Interesting indeed, Cher !”

“Also, some guests in Valentino’s porn clubs said that the hygiene in the bathrooms, of all the clubs, are so nasty that no one even wants to take a dump there ! Hahaha ! That insect is destroying his own image !”, you cackled out.

Alastor laughed at that.

“Well, what did you expect from a moth, Cher ? That they are clean ?”

“You would think his business and his employees means something to him, but it seems it wants to go broke soon enough !”

Alastor just chuckled and already planned how to teach Vox a lesson, for trying to take over Radio, HIS specialty.

The Broadcast went 30 minutes longer, discussing and gossiping about the Vees mostly.

After they finished their Broadcast, they saw that all of Pentagram City had a blackout. Welp, they fried Vox then with the other two Vees.

When Alastor starts gossip:

You both visited Rosie, just to catch up a bit and that was where everything went down. From a small pleasant exchange of how you all three have been, it turned into gossiping.

“My Dear, you have to be pulling our legs.”, Alastor accused Rosie in disbelief.

“I am not, Al ! I promise ya ! He really tried to eat her !”, Rosie insisted.

You just laughed and ate another finger that Rosie offered. You rarely did eat her treats that she offered, but today you were fine with it. Rosie knew about your picky diet swings, so she never felt insulted.

“What about you, Dear ? Any interesting gossip ?”, Rosie asked you.

“Oh quite some interesting ones, indeed !”, you replied.

“Oh do spill the tea, Dearie !”, Rosie said in excitement.

“Well, I heard that Zestial had three Sons and they are all down here. They say that Zestial hid them from everyone, because they are not very strong and he is ashamed of them.”

“Oh my...”, Rosie said in shock and intrigue.

Alastor was in slight shock and very interested in it.

“I will ask Zest about it tomorrow. After all we are supposed to meet up at Carmilla’s tomorrow. He is always there.”, you told her.

“Oh please do ask him ! I would love to know if these rumors are true !”

Then she turned to Alastor.

“And you, my friend ? What did you catch ?”

Alastor chuckled.

“A lot of people are starting to question Queen Lilith’s absence. Many say that she made a Deal with the Holy Gates. Others say that she got exterminated.”

“Hah ! As if anyone could kill our Queen ! She would NEVER agree to make a Deal with the Angels either ! How silly !”

Alastor chuckled and nodded, agreeing with Rosie, while you just shook your head in amusement.

“Also, it was rumored that Overlord Missi Zilla was seen with a lowlife Sinner, getting a bit steamy in an alley way.”

“No way !”, Rosie and you yelled.

“Yes, yes, indeedy !”, Alastor insisted.

Rosie leaned back.

“Oh my stars...”, she muttered.

“Who do you think it was ?”, you asked the two other Overlords.

“All I have heard was that the Demon Sinner was a bull. There was nothing else.”, Alastor chimed in.

“As if Missi would stoop that low.”, you scoffed.

“You never know, my Dear !”

And the gossip with Rosie and Alastor would continue for a long while, while you chimed in and shared your own gossip. You saw Rosie like a Mother figure and your Father didn’t mind it a bit. He was glad you liked Rosie.

You three Overlords would gossip for hours.

Alastor is a HUGE fan of gossip. You never know what interesting information you will hear, after all.

He would gossip with you, his beloved Daughter, like women would gossip amongst each other.

He would try and see if you were pulling his leg or not, but most of the times you were serious.

As soon as he got interesting gossip, he would immediately sit down with you and share, loving to bond with you over simple gossip.

He would always share a few laughs with you here and there.

He loves it when you have gossip/information about his enemies/victims. Somehow you just KNEW where and how to get the interesting tea ! He couldn’t be prouder !

He would never shut you down if you wanted to gossip with him. He would always listen and throw in his input/opinion on the matters discussed.

He is the perfect person to gossip with and so are you and Rosie.

I hope I hit the mark with this ! ^^'

(Words: 2 605)

Masterlist HERE !

[update-blog-bp9]

Because y'all probably wanna know...

Father!Alastor x Son!Reader book (Wordcount): 41,806 (8 Chapters currently)

Father!Alastor x Daughter Reader (Wordcount): 24,442 (8 Chapters currently)

[webism]

the first time you bring gojo home to fuck, he’s like a kid in a candy store. he’s touching everything but you, which was the point of him being there in the first place.

“don’t touch that,” is said more often than not, because he keeps taking things off shelves and peeking into your drawers as he looks around.

even when you do get to kissing and touching on eachother, he can’t decide on which room he wants to take you in. he likes your bathroom, wants to test out your kitchen counter, appreciates the scents in your laundry room, needs to test out that couch… the back garden looks fun, and he’s not-so-secretly itching for the neighbours to peer in and see you take his cock to the base on that pretty sun lounger you’ve got outside.

you manage to get him to settle on the bedroom, though, which was a mistake because he’s already trying to get into your panty drawer for a souvenir. peeking under your bed to try and find where you keep those pretty little toys he knows you fuck yourself with when you’re thinking of him.

“just fuck me,” you have to plead with him, which you never thought you’d need to do with satoru of all people.

and of course he obliges, because he’s as starved as you are ravenous, but when he’s taking you from behind on that squeaky mattress of yours, balls slapping against your clit with every thrust of his cock inside of you, he leans over your tight body and hips at your earlobe before speaking.

“i love your place, baby, don’t get me wrong but…” he fucks you so deep you can hardly hear him right. “… ‘s not good enough for you. need to keep your stuff at mine, hm? move in with me.”

[stargirlstabber]

mdni. 0.2k words. not proofread.

older bf! john price having a house rule for you.

skirts. without panties. he wants- he needs you to wear skirts when you're at home. it's for easy access, you know?

so randomly throughout the day, he comes up behind you, smacks the flesh of your ass, bends you over and pushes his cock inside of your tight cunt.

he makes sure you follow his rule and he's the one to buy some nice skirts for you, scrolling through his phone to look for something he wants to see you in, and order it to be delivered.

sometimes john orders some toys alongside the skirts. some nice butt plugs for example.

and when the package arrives, you're making a little show for him in the living room.

john sits on the couch, legs in man spread as he leans back into the soft cushions, eyes rolling up and down your body, only dressed in a small top and one of the skirts be bought. and oh? a plug as well, the one with the blue gem, matching his eye color.

[kirammansbow]

The way isha shoots the bad hallucinations

[akanemnon]

Shouldn't there be a minotaur in the labyrinth? Who put this goat here? This is not accurate to the mythology! /j

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[casiia]

simon hated dating for the sole reason of small talk. in the nicest way possible, he does not care what your favorite color is or what your childhood pet’s name was. he would rather not beat around the bush, in his opinion it’s a waste of time so he simply doesn’t date.

he decides to give it another try, you were so sweet asking him for his number. stuttering and shifting on the balls of your feet, a pretty blush lighting your features.

but he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when you ask him what his favorite animal is. instead of walking out like he normally does, he decides to ask his own set of questions — for once.

“i like to draw.”

biting his tongue he has to resist the urge to say “that’s what everyone says,” because most of the time, they are horrible at their hobby.

but after a few dates, and a few hookups, you decide to let him browse your sketchbook. sitting in his lap you nervously fidget with your fingers, watching as he slowly flips through and admires each page. chewing on your lower lip when his eyebrows raise, you almost gasp when he shifts his hips upwards beneath you.

“okay, that’s enough.” you grumble, reaching for the book and trying to snatch it away. simon only smirks and leans back, holding the book to the side out of your reach.

when you told simon you were an artist, he was very surprised to see your intricate drawings of people, landscapes, and human anatomy.

smudged pencil lines of hands groping breast, detailed veins running along various sized and shaped cocks.

he swallows thickly when he turns a page and sees one centered, one that looks too familiar to his own. when you finally snatch the book from his hand with a wild blush, he knows. you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“aw, baby. needed something to look at when you miss me? y’coulda just asked me.”

simon’s grinning up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes, his hands running up and down your thighs.

he doesn’t want to think about the other drawings of dicks you’ve drawn, the men before him. he just needs to make sure that his will be the final one in your precious book.

[salarymanwaka]

[sugarwarachan]

more thoughts on free use/aizawa because I need him biblically - mdni

wakes you up with his tongue between your legs or his cock slotting between your thighs. he’s not impatient; he actually likes not waking you up at first so he can gently lap at your clit or fuck himself between your legs until you finally start to stir.

when he’s home relaxing, he wants your snug walls wrapped around him any chance he gets. one of his favorite things to do is spread your legs obscenely wide and make you cockwarm on his lap as he’s grading papers, tutting occasionally at the way your pussy drools onto his slacks.

even when you’re begging and panting into his neck for release, he still holds off.

“you like being my little whore, don’t you, honey?” his voice is the only thing that gives away how wrecked he is. it’s ragged and low. his fingers tense on your hip. “like it enough to cum all over daddy’s cock just from sittin’ on it?”

[ysaona]

“One day I’m gonna ride in one of those things.” — powder (s1. ep1.)

[blackypanther9]

Boys ask you out – Teen!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

A/N: Human!Alive!Alastor and Human!Alive!Daughter Reader.

Headcanon(?) THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC !!!

(picture belongs to rightful owner)

Alastor and you were just eating out in a restaurant, as a teenage boy came up to them and asked you out on a date.

You felt slightly caught off guard and shy, but agreed softly.

Alastor just looked at you and then at the boy, clearing his throat, which made the boy look at him.

“And who may you be, my good fellow ? Boldly asking my daughter out in front of me ?”

“My n-name is Finn, Sir.”

“When did you ask me for my permission to ask my daughter out, Finn ?”

You could tell that your Father was losing his last bits of patience with this teen. You found it quite amusing how protective your Dad was, yet...you understood why. A killer was roaming around after all.

“I didn’t know this charming woman needed her Father’s approval to go out on a date.”

Oh...wrong, overconfident answer and you knew that. You always looked at your Father for approval. He could read people a bit better than you and you trusted his judgment.

“She needs it indeed. That is my daughter after all.”

“You treat her like an object right now.”

Your Father’s eye twitched slightly at the boy’s comment.

“I don’t. There is a murderer running around and you expect me to let my daughter run around freely and alone, in the middle of the night, with some stranger ? Ha ! No.”

You gave your Father a small smile, grateful he looked after you so much. Even though he was the Killer.

The boy scoffed and looked at you again, smile gentle, but fake.

“Tomorrow evening at 6PM in front of this very restaurant, beautiful ?”

You were speechless and looked at your Dad for help. Alastor had a look of annoyance on his face, but his smile didn’t drop yet.

“She is not going anywhere with you, boy. She has no permission to go out with you. Now shoo off.”

The boy scoffed and left. You looked at your Dad.

“Thank you, Papa.”

“No problem, mon ange (My angel).”

That boy was Alastor’s Dinner the next evening, for his lack of manners.

-Another day-

The both of you took a stroll through the park as a group of boys spotted you with your Father.

A blond haired boy approached you, very confident and he seemed to have a very highly stroked ego, like no one can say no to him.

He ran a hand over his hair and gave a flirty smirk towards you.

“Hey there, beautiful~ Wanna go out with me tonight~?”

You got nervous and looked at your Dad, this boy made you uncomfortable.

“My face is over here, pretty girl~”

The boy TOUCHED your chin and had the AUDACITY to turn your face back on himself, forcefully, IN FRONT of Alastor !

Alastor smacked the boy’s hand harshly, the guy yelped and let go, shaking his hand, glaring at your Father.

“What is your Problem, man ?!”, the boy snarled.

“What is MY problem ? Has your Mother never taught you how to treat a woman ? How dare you touch her without asking for permission ? And that in front of ME !”

Your Father was positively boiling in anger. He pulled you into his side, glaring down at the boy. He was the next to die tonight.

“Who even are you ? Her lover ?”, he asked in disgust.

“I am her FATHER.”

At that the blond boy grew a smirk.

“Then shouldn’t you be thrilled that someone like me even bothers to ask your daughter out ?”

This boy was on thin ice and your jaw dropped open in offence. You glared at the boy in disgust.

“Papa ?”, you called out.

“Yes, Darling ?”, Alastor responded, looking at you gently.

“I would like to go HOME. This disgraceful human being ruined my mood. I wish to return home and read a good book.”

The blond boy stared at you in offence, then disgust.

“How dare you call me that ?! I can get any woman I WANT !”

You gave him an unimpressed glare.

“Well, you didn’t get me now, did you ? You have a foul mouth with a disgusting attitude and now, I wish to retreat home, Papa.”

“Of course, Cher.”

The blond boy’s hand formed into a fist and he swung his fist. You closed your eyes tightly, but the impact never came.

You opened your eyes and saw that your Father caught the boy’s hand. His smile and eyes were wide and filled with rage. The boy quivered at that, turning pale.

“You try that again, young man, and we will have very big problems. Understood ?”, Alastor said calmly.

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now go away.”

As soon as your Father let go of the boy’s hand, the guy ran away and back to his friends, who laughed at him.

Your Father put a hand on your back and guided you back home.

Overall, Alastor would observe every young man that approaches you, to ask you out.

He would interfere when he doesn’t like them at all.

He would force them to ask for his permission first, because that was how it was usually done in his time anyways and he knew, for a fact, that tradition didn’t stop yet.

Usually a lot of boys back down as soon as he demanded them to ask for his permission first, others would ask and get a big, fat NO from him anyways, which amused you to no ends.

Alastor would be overprotective of you and he was NOT afraid to show it.

He would pull you into his side and wrap an arm protectively over you, showing that you had someone to protect you and that he didn’t take any Bullshit from anyone.

A boy tried to force you to go out with them, they would be found dead soon enough.

Alastor was possessive of you, not in a romantic or perverted sense, but you were his daughter and he knew what young men usually thought when they saw a beautiful woman. He hated the thought of you leaving one day and never coming back. He had some enemies. What if they got you ? No, no, no, he can’t let that happen.

He glared every young man down, that dared to give you nicknames, just to butter you up. Usually they would be his next Dinner too.

As soon as he sees a young lad eying you with impure thoughts, he will end them in the week. If they dare to approach you too and ask you out, clearly just looking to disgrace you, he would go so far as to be very aggressive.

Alastor, your Father, saw no boy worthy enough to date you, in his eyes, they were all way too beneath his Angel. So get ready to have a very long time to staying single and left at peace.

You couldn’t have asked for a better Dad. Alastor was a top #1 Dad in the world. No matter what.

-Addition if you both land in Hell together-

He will NOT let you date in Hell. Absolutely NOT.

He would constantly worry over your safety and send his shadows after you.

Alright...he let you date ONCE in hell and it was an absolute disaster !

That pig just wanted to get into your underwear and the Radio Demon was FURIOUS !

Save to say he ate that guy and then forbid you from dating in Hell. FORGET IT. NO DATES AND LOVE LIFE IN HELL.

And you are not allowed to leave his side for a long while after that either !

He is still your #1 Dad in the whole world though.  <3

A/N: So....what do ya think?

(Words: 1 372)

Masterlist HERE !

[update-blog-bp9]

Gosh...QvQ

You know...I know all of you will hate me when I drop the biggest bomb any of you has ever had in the Father!Alastor x Son!Reader series.

If you think 15 Chapters are all, then you are dead wrong. But I don't know any titles yet for the other ones. I know that I will probably add like 3 or 4 more Chapters with Alive!Human!Reader and then we swap over to HELL.

So plan that this series will have at least 25 Chapters or so... Not sure how many it will be. TvT

All planned out, but no ideas how to name them and how many Chapters it will be. I plan them long mostly and with that I usually don't know how many it will be in the end. I am gambling with 25 Chapters in total, might be more or less though.

BYEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!! ^^

Btw: I am listening to fuckin' Jazz, while at the same time playing a relaxing outside night sound, with a crackling fireplace in a house sound and rain with soft thunder added. I never tried this sheesh before, but I feel a bit more collected and chill. The last few days my brain was all over the place and in no state to write anything... Has anyone ever tried this shoot before ? I recommend. ^^

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwhose (not) random kid

premise. crash landing from the future is apparently your kid, not that you know that anyway... in the form of a mixture between you, and your... supposed counterpart, clues are bound to pile up as to whose��child this is.

parts. rosehearts, kingscholar, ashengrotto, al asim, schoenheit, shroud, draconia

cont. gender neutral reader, use of 'mada' which is just 'mama' and 'dada' cut in half for our resident shrimp (aka yuu), a yummy 5.8k words that I did not expect to get this long lol

note. I only have a rough outline of what's going to be included with the others parts after the names of the kids lol. I'll probably write leona's as usual after this but I can't promise I'll release one more part after his this month, the rest will probably come next month considering I'm bombarded sadge. paper defense, then final exams next month save me

also hello! my unnofficial: I'll try to post more

late edit: comment if you want to get tagged <3

riddle

when you slid a foot over the portal to heartslabyul there’s some sort of a strange–inexplicable air that surrounds it. usually the dimension is light to be in, unlike the tingling feelings of being in octavinelle or the eeriness of ignihyde. all dormitories had their own particular sensation that weighs on you depending on where you were.

you squinted, deciding to shrug it off. there was no way you had a sixth sense for feeling in the literal air!

barely a foot in though, was something you could only explain as an army of card… soldiers trudging from the other end of the sidewalk to the next. dumbly, you stopped right in front the shimmering portal that settles into a smooth sheen of silver behind you as they just kept coming.

they seemed to be looking for something–or whatever but you don’t really want to know what so you slowly inched to the side, hoping to sneak past them even if you had to go into one of the confusing mazes (which was a struggle considering you’re trying not to laugh as one of them trips).

must be ace’s wretchedness rubbing off of you.

the real question was, where in the seven were your resident idiots? you’d already sent a text over for your impromptu visit to the chat consisting of you three and figured they had seen it like they usually do then waited for you with feigned begrudging-ness that does not fit well with them showing up in the first place. 

you fish for your sad excuse for a phone in your pocket, cater’s words not yours. you’re more busy trying to merge your backside as you shuffle and pull up the chat to notice the ever nearing edge of the hedge wall that makes you stand out in comparison to the lighter shade of green brushing against your uniform.

not deuce: you guys ever notice the card soldiers infestation near ur mirror portal…?

not ace: you nedea to RNR RUN RN!!

not yuu: what???

there’s not much time to ponder about the cryptic, seemingly panicked expression of deuce’s message as you looked up from your phone, feeling a slight chill crawl up to your spine like you attracted some sort of unwarranted trouble that is also unwanted.

disclaimer: you (uu) did

“over here!” an unfamiliar voice yells, freezing you in your tracks just when you were about to make the sneak of the century. without a moment’s hesitation you darted deeper into the maze and shoved your device within the confines of your pockets as you held in a mortified scream at the sudden mob upon your tail as you ran.

WHY WAS THERE SO MANY? you yelled in your mind. number one rule in horror games don’t look back. don’t look back. don’t look back–

oh sevens you’re looking back.

the decision immediately fills you with regret when you spot the diabolical amount of card soldiers trailing after you like you just slaughtered their queen in front of whatever kingdom they came from! was this someone’s unique magic? there was no way riddle would let this sort of thing go rampant on his dorm!

you almost keel over in shock when the pointy end of a heart on the end of a pole sticks right on the patch of grass you just barely managed to trudge across with increasingly heavier steps. maybe you should actually take jack’s offer to join track and field–your stamina is horrible–you’re gonna get stabbed.

goodbye world. you thought warmly with a chorus of pants.

a deeper voice bellowed from the crowd from your behind. “three of hearts! are you thin-headed? do not harm the majesty!” the steps behind you stop almost abruptly, and you don’t stop running even as the voices fade. idiots for choosing to chastise their idiotic comrade but you’re not complaining as long as you get away from this horrid situation.

your majesty what now?

you don’t know how far you ran by sticking to all left turns until you flop down on the entrance of the maze, the archway barely offering you any relief as you took deep breaths and fought the urge to lay down on the grass and hope it camouflages your grey uniform.

that won’t work but you’re coping at this point.

not deuce: HELLO  I ALMOST GOT SKEWERED BY LITERAL CARDS?

not yuu: that’s a humiliating way to go down from

not ace: don’t be insensitive ace! are you ok?!

not deuce: NO? WHAT IS GOING ON

not yuu: riddle got dethroned and i'm not even happy

not yuu: it's the absolute WORST AT THE DORM!

not yuu: you better turn back rn and get away from ‘labyul coz it’s getting run by a kid

not deuce: BACK INTO THAT DEATH MOB? no thanks

not ace: yuu brace up, cater texted that the new boss is on his way to you

not yuu: F for yuu

not ace: F

not deuce: F u

what you expect to be the final boss of your life, you guess from the approaching pairs of footsteps nearing your defeated form sprawled across the flecks of grass and still heaving comes in a surprising form of softness, and youth.

“mada.” 

the blueness of the sky is shadowed by a tiny little head peering over your head. you’re startled by the tuff of red hair, and familiar pair of eyes which was strange, considering you have never seen this kid in your life. this was the new queen of heartlsabyul? you thought incredulously, since when were kids allowed in nrc…?

the thought was a breeding ground to raise the most evil person on the planet, considering the equally as evil people in night raven.

out of habit from the familiar chubby, round face you blurted: “riddle?”

the child blinked before they shook your head. “I am not papa.” their lips twitched into a small smile directed to you. if taken a closure look, this child’s resemblance with riddle really is uncanny. from the hair, even to a small golden crown sitting primly on the middle of their head. “mada, I am glad I found you. I have not seen papa yet.”

was this season 5 of stranger things?

they straightened. attention straying from you as you glanced to the other pairs of legs, whom you put a face to quickly. trey and cater both cast you a look of exasperation and pity.

then done like a true riddle–their face does a complete 360 and curls into anger as they stared off inside the maze. “all of you!” the tiny child rages with a concerning… change of color around their cute face, fingers pointed accusingly. how can a child be so horrifyingly scary?

the two third years do not mirror your confusion as you sat up, following the kid’s gaze to the archway where a myriad of thundering footsteps almost have you scampering away if not for them laying a small hand on your shoulder and somehow managing to ground you to stay still.

whose kid is this? you looked to cater who shakes his head uselessly

then to trey who wore a resigned smile.

the child’s brow twitches when the card soldiers lined up obediently. “I thought I had made it clear you not hurt mada.” they seethed, voice tilting in clear threat and a I demand you! sort of way. the card solider, three of hearts who had scared the living soul out of you trembled less subtle compared to the other guards.

of course this child had to get more terrifying by being observant, they caught the shiver of one soldier and narrowed their eyes. “ah, found the culprit. three of–”

trey shuffles forward with an awkward laugh that belies his usual laid back with–on his face is a twinge of concern as he raises his palms in a placating gesture. he steps forward three more times, sliding between the child and the line of soldiers but keeping the distance warily. “hey, kid. maybe we can discuss this with some tarts, and some tea?” he tries. children love sweets, right?

they keep their head level despite the astounding height difference. “I told you, uncle trey! being called ‘kid’ is disorderly! It's alice!” still, despite the brief protest their eyes sparkled with interest at the notion, even if they seemed a bit embarrassed to admit it. “i’m not supposed to eat sweets on mondays.” 

“huh.” cater mumbled before the thin line of his lips rose into a familiar grin. “as in, rule 102 of the queen?” he queries with a nervous slide of his fingers through his hair. he’s not so obvious to directly state that he’s tiptoeing around… alice but a bit of months knowing him, you can tell.

alice nods along. they no longer look as bothered as before, the card soldiers all slump their tense shoulders a little when alice shifts their piercing gaze from the three of hearts before settling onto cater, who they offer a brief nod of agreement before returning back to trey.

well, a kid is a kid. 

“but i can eat sweets on tuesdays.” they added hastily. like they don’t want the notion of trey’s treats slipping from their fingers but that would be strange, if the look of confusion you three share with each other you would have thought trey had initially baked for alice based off the tone of wistfulness in their tone.

trey smiles at them. “tomorrow it is.” reassured by their sheepish innocence he stops in front of them and grasps their shoulders, turning them away from the stiff soldiers. alice spares a brief glance at them. “what about these rule breakers?”

you stood up fully. “uh, don’t worry, they didn’t do anything wrong. i ran for too long.” you supplied in defense. if anything , a resemblance to riddle of all people meant that they could have the head offing in their blood. you did not want to stick around to find out, neither did cater.

alice considers you for a moment with a small sparkle in their eyes, with a wave of the small wand that maternalized in their hand, the soldiers fade into glittering spots of gold. only then do they let trey lead them back to the main pathway towards the dormitory of heartslabyul.

you fall into step behind cater who probably sees the question in your eyes so he lowers his voice discreetly, glancing at the back of trey who keeps the child’s bay attention so they don’t notice you two slowing down a little. nonetheless, still walking.

“that was little alice’s unique magic.” he says to you with a shrug, sighing after a glance at the former’s small, regal form. “pretty overpowered… kind of like my split card but less cute, and more dangerous.”

he winked, you frowned.

in front of you two, alice seems tame in comparison to the subtle bribing of trey questioning about their favorite sweets as you all finally reached the nearing entrance of the main dormitory

“where’s riddle?” you questioned.

he pursed his lips, navigating though the fountain in front of the dorm. “last i know, he went out early to campus cause of a meeting with his club for the upcoming NRC tour festival…” 

oh, right. I have not found papa. alice’s voice echoes in your mind, so you echo the question that appears in your mind right after the memory. “alice called riddle ‘papa’ which i’m pretty sure is a term for a parent…” you trailed off. riddle seemed to be the least likely person to have a secret love child of some sorts, he seemed like he had most of his life planned out.

if riddle bent over backwards for his rules then he wouldn’t stray from the path he had set.

there’s a flash of interest in cater’s eyes, it was already there before, just dwindled. you watch it spark to life. akin to lighting some sort of fire within the guy, a gossipmonger at heart as he leaned in eagerly just as you both trudged up the stairs to the front doors who opened politely, and closed behind you as you walked in the main hall of heartslabyul.

“they look, and act like riddle!” he chuckles. “imagine our shock when alice popped up straight out of nowhere with an army at their beck and call.” cater clutched onto his arms, and shivered. you leaned away when he reaches his arms out to you in a teasing manner.

he adds. not at all offended by the way you scrunch your face at his ‘affections’. “they seem to listen to you though. like someone.”

you only regard him with an impassive raise of your brows. “i don't think so. riddle doesn’t listen to anyone. much less me.” befuddled by the mere idea, you scoffed. in all your magic-less glory, the best thing you might have achieved here in this other dimension was having the ability to wake leona kingscholar up from one of his power naps.

cater doesn’t seem to agree. only sighing at you from what it seems to be an of course. “only you can be so oblivious to the chaos you leave behind.” he says in response, making an exaggerated show of peering behind your shoulder and widening his eyes in feigned shock.

you humor him as you turned your head. the scene of the main entrance of the dormitory was the only answer to your eyes as you both walked into the living room–where little alice sits alone. you caught a glimpse of trey’s dark hair as he disappeared into the kitchen, most likely going off to make her a treat.

vaguely unsure if the male had heard him, cater calls out a “make us some too!”

“not my fault the students here are so… unstable.” you remarked with a roll of your eyes. remembering the overblots to be the most plausible reference to the chaos cater was talking about as you begrudgingly sat down on the couch and reeled in any other remarks for the child in the room.

who was now shuffling closer to your seated frame even if they thought they were being subtle in the movement.

what was two seats in the space between you and alice eventually became none at all, as they settled beside you and peered up with innocent eyes.

you tilted your head at them, alice copies the movement.

then to the other side.

they mirror the lull of your head.

“besides those.” cater cleared his throat after a bewildered glance at the child. “what’s more impressive is that you’re still here, yuu-yuu. night raven is like… a pack of wolves trying to run you off crying, and you? you’re a very weird sheep.”

still a bit enraptured on this child, you replied without your stare wavering from the roundness of alice’s cheek as you reached up to pinch it. to yours, and cater’s surprise. their previous cute ferociousness is not present at all as they leaned against the warmth as though instinctive. “i didn’t do anything.”

you don’t entertain the accusing look in cater’s eyes.

“if that was you not trying to beast tame the school then i don’t know what’ll happen if you put in the effort.”

you both lapse into silence as cater–who seemed to sense the finality of the conversation lets it slip fully and instead, busies himself with the entertainments his phone provided. you redirect your full attention onto the elusive red-headed alice.

“so,” you started. “how did you end up here? must be a great feat if you were able to go past the barriers.”

alice curls their fingers within the fabric of your blazer, inspecting it as they reply softly. “i’m not sure, mada. i was just sleeping, and woke up in a garden. the hedgehogs showed me the way after i offered them a caterpillar.” they do not mention a bleary moment in their sleep where they curiously wondered how you and riddle came to be as they drifted off. “as pertaining by rule 210… if you are lost in a maze, give the hedgehogs an offering and they shall show you the way.”

you can’t help but let your mind drift over to riddle, who echoes the rules to be followed when mentioned.

your lips twitch into a smile, much to the delight of alice. “strange indeed. must have been scary.”

their eyes squinted. “i’m not scared.”

you chuckled and pinched their cheek. they pout.

“where are you from?” you ask instead, wanting to know more about the.. figurative alice from nowhere. 

alice looks at you strangely.

“from the queendom of roses…” could they simply be a relative of riddle’s? you thought mindlessly. drawing your fingers through the surprising soft red locks who seemingly part eagerly for your touch. “with my mada, and my papa. sometimes my uncles visit.”

unsure of how to reply, you merely nod along. parting their hair by half and twisting it into a braid. “you called me mada.” you hummed.

“because you are my mada.”

she says like it’s the only thing that makes sense in her small world, not relinquishing her grip on your blazer but instead tugging at the wrists to expose the small slither of skin and hold onto it. clingy. you thought, deciding not to question it.

… was this your freaking kid?

the smell of strawberries wafts over the space of the living room alongside the ticking of the oven–momentarily taking both alice, and cater’s attention. the latter stretches before standing to stride over to the source of the smell, no doubt requesting trey to change the taste once more.

alice’s eyes, like yours slid to your own. a bit shy in their demeanor as they clutched onto the skin of your wrist. “can i eat some of uncle’s tarts?” they queried under your breath, only meant for you alone. you felt a bit confused but nodded nonetheless. 

their lips twitched into an eager smile before it settles into a more controlled look of impassiveness.

that was adorable. you thought, unable to resist leaning down to scoop them into your arms as you stood. alice makes a sound of brief surprise before their arms loop around your neck. they sat pliantly still as you walked over to follow cater inside the kitchen, catching a glimpse of your scent that they sought for, so alice nuzzles their face into the warm pulse on your neck.

trey glances up from the animated retelling of cater about the crazy day. “new responsibility?” he wore a humored smile, apron long discarded and folded over the handle of the oven for the meantime.

if riddle saw this, he would not believe it no matter how intelligent he was. trey deduced.

he gestures to the tray set on the counter. “there’s frosted strawberries, blueberry cornmeal, and the good old mont blanc since i got left over ingredients from the last unbirthday party.” 

alice feels the shift of your head as you glanced down at them, they don’t remove their head from the crevice of your neck for a moment and meets your eyes with a raise of their own. “frosted strawberries, please.”

“good choice, little alice.” cater comments.

“careful, it’s hot.” trey chided gently as he watched you pick up one of them, drawing it near alice’s waiting hunger as they tilted their head up from your shoulder. they took a small bite at the corners of the tart, smiling at the taste and only wider when you wiped remnants of crumbs around the edges of their mouth.

alice chews, and swallows before they spoke again. their eyes gleaming with admiration as they stared at trey. “it’s always the yummiest when it’s fresh out the oven.” they recited.

trey blinks.

“you’re a bright one.” he remarked, ruffling their hair when he drew near. “don’t tell anyone about the wicked secret ‘round the kitchen, all right?”

they nodded vigorously. “thank you, uncle..” they spewed politely, but evidently genuine.

cater munches from the other end of the counter. “we gotta protect alice,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling as he pointed his phone to you, tapping to snap a picture of the scene despite your warning stare. “too nice for the vultures we call students here.” 

“you might be right.” trey shook his head, and you nodded mutely. more absorbed into letting them take bite by bite into the tart until it was about finished halfway. only then do you lay it back on the tray. how much sweets was ideal for a child to take anyway? regardless of you deeming it as enough, alice stays quiet and does not complain.

if they wanted more, you wouldn’t know.

“later.” you promised, leaning back when you were satisfied with their prim appearance. a pat of their hair to smooth down trey’s earlier disruption.

“later..” alice echoed. 

a resident third year enters the kitchen. only to pause in their tracks and back away.

“domesticity is really the enemy of the students here.” cater sniffed, earning a chuckle from trey who found the comment funny. “imagine being happy, being broody and emotional are the real requirements to get admitted.”

cater finishes his snack with a pleased hum, and a grateful nod to trey. “by the way i messaged adeuce, sent them to stall dorm leader from going back as long as the dorm was… kind of in a wre–predicament.” he cleared his throat, casting a brief glance at alice to spot if they had taken offence to his almost uttered word.

“so now they’re en-route?” trey guessed, transferring the leftover tarts to a glass bowl. leaving the tray in the sink to wash for later. cater nods in response, typing on his phone with one hand. likely in cahoots with the two right now. “told them the coast was clear! no more trampling soldiers scampering around.”

trey eyed him. “what about the–”

just then, whatever trey was going to comment in rebuttal of cater’s easy reassurance was promptly interrupted by new individuals peeking inside. ace, and deuce poked their heads from the corner. as if trying to ascertain the danger level of whatever may be inside.

ace rougly nudges deuce when he spots you with a child in arms. for two people insisting on their unique, varying selfs. they mirror each other’s look of bewilderment as though their brain cells crackled and connected into a singular one. “what the seven?” ace mouthed.

you all do not notice the look of familiarity on alice’s face.

nor the brightening when riddle strides in with a petulant huff,

if riddle thought strangely, or disapproved of the two’s behavior then he wouldn’t have had the chance to comment on it before he was leveling trey with a sharp, inquisitive stare. “i would like a very good explanation as to why my hedges have been mangled to the ground.” his eye twitches with the effort of containing irritation. “three hours i’ve been gone. three! and when i enter heartslabyul the first thing i see is devastation upon my gardens!”

perhaps emotionally, riddle cried out in the last sentence.

even though such an expression should have frightened a child to some degree, alice relaxes in your arms but their face clouds in shame at his voice.

riddle whirls back to the other two lingering by the doorway who both flinches imperceptibly–cater tries to intercept with a nervous chuckle but is only met with a steely don’t even start! “ace, and deuce have me running around the school. saying something about yuu getting kidnapped by those.. vermin excuses of… students from octavinelle!" riddle seethed, breathing still a bit labored as favor of his statement about running around.

“dorm leader!” ace stood straight stiffly.

oh, did he just come from a frantic search in octavinelle?

“i even had to threaten collaring azul who i thought was lying about yuu.” with a deep intake of air, riddle breathes out and pinches the bridge of his nose, collecting his temper. much to the chagrin of deuce.

“we apologize.” deuce added sadly.

cater feigns ignorance by looking away but it’s trey’s look that has him adding to the defense of the two, rather than using the opportunity to scamper away with his head in tact. “ahem… we had these two keep you busy. so don’t be too harsh on them, riddle. us upperclassmen will take responsibility.”

a nod of agreement from trey gets riddle quiet.

the former tilts his chin to you. “yuu is fine, they’re right here.”

like he hadn’t even noticed before (he really didn’t), riddle’s head snaps to you immediately. his eyes would have been stuck to you, prodding for a valid explanation to your ignorance to his angry calls but instead, settles on the bundle in your arms.

“who…” a blink. “why in the world do you have a child! they are not welcome on school grounds! especially this time in the school year–.” riddle sputtered, instinctively sauntering over to take a closer look at alice who only stared without an inch of fear.

“papa.” they mumbled, voice measured but still echoing in the now quiet kitchen.

ace leapt up to your side. “that’s not right!” he gasped, squinting dangerously at riddle. any traces of earlier mortification gave way to whatever emotion he’s got on his face. “how could you sully yuu! they’re not a babysitter for your kid!” 

“what?” riddle seethed, head flicking from ace, to you, then to alice.

despite a look of great reluctance, deuce nods from the doorway still. mumbling to himself. “dorm… dorm leader has a child…”

you vaguely remember trey offering the dazed guy a glass of water.

“unconfirmed earlier, confirmed now.” cater adds unhelpfully to the blazing fire of riddle’s rising anger.

riddle’s teeth grind together, jaw clenching as his fingers tightened into a fist. it was more of one his attempts at calming down rather than preparation for a physical alteration. “I did no such–!”

“don’t be mad at mada.” alice reaches for him, tugging at his blazer which surprisingly, quells the reddening of his face. now, he just looks a bit confused.

alice turns their head slightly. “mada, you can calm down papa.”

deuce paused before dropping to the ground.

“AH! he’s dead. this is why you don’t betray us by keeping secrets, yuu!” 

“uh oh… trey help me with deuce… wait, should we just leave him? i mean, he’ll be just fine here, right?”

“... just take the other arm, cater.”

all the way back to the living room, riddle’s face remained tinged with warmth. alice, while reluctant to part with your embrace, seemed wholly pleased to stay by the other red-heads' side. insisting you sit next to him when you moved to sit by your two friends.

you obliged them despite riddle’s interest with the carpet.

the couch dipped at the weight of another. even so, the non-verbal conversation between alice, and riddle continued. the former pressed their lips together thinly, seemingly assessing the… youthfulness of the latter. they aren’t so used to this kind of look from him.

cater flinched, and look away from the flash of his phone. he elbows a dazed deuce.

“so,” ace cleared his throat, blinking his still wide eyes. “who the heck is this kid?!”

“language.” riddle chided sharply. though softened from its usual end even he isn’t so sure why it is from the mere presence of alice alone. 

“rule 13, always present yourself with appropriate language.”

“always present yourself with appropriate language.” alice repeated.

riddle squinted at a relaxed alice, who tilts their head as if to ask ‘what?’.

“genetics is crazy. what’s next, the kid beheads us too?” ace points between the two. 

alice shrugged. “only if you break the rules.”

“i do not have a child!” riddle protested.

“i am your child.” replied alice.

“apparently this one’s our kid.” you agreed begrudgingly.

riddle stares at you with a mixture of disbelief, and confusion.

darting between you and the kid like they're gonna start collating him in all his glory! sure, alice had red hair like him but quite a lot of people in the island have it too besides his relatives. the idea of… of him and you is just so out of this world that he can't wrap his head around it.

you? you who he hadn't paid attention to when you arrived at the ceremony? the very first person in that event that broke the rules? you, the very fading into the background student whom he believed to be a bad influence to his students ace, and deuce? 

you he had almost hurt beyond repair at the bursting of his control so tightly held in his hands?

the brief skip of his heart when your eyes meet over the head of alice is enough to send blood rushing to his head, coloring it with his signature red whose warmth doesn't feel like the usual simmering anger he struggles to keep submerged. if anything, this feeling is practically leaping out the water and baring his face to everyone. 

riddle does not look away. managing a look of what he tries to name as conviction but easily crumbles to fluster.

then the idea wasn't so bad considering this young child has proved to be raised dutifully, correctly without any worries of what he used to be burdened with as a child.

it gives way to curiosity. 

despite his incredulously, riddle queries. “the gardens.” he starts with a measured narrow to his eyes, not too intense to possibly upset this.. future child of his whose eyes are strikingly familiar enough to halt the normal circulation of his heart once more for half a second. “were you responsible for the destruction of some hedges I've come across?”

alice shrinks into themselves. “i'm sorry papa.” they pursed their lips, voice genuine by the lower tilt. “i thought i could use my card soldiers to look for you, and mada. you told me about this place called heartslabyul before?”

“i have?” riddle blinks. the idea isn't too bizarre, it's only natural to think back on such things.

they nodded. “yes, papa. you talk about it a lot on our friday’s. about how it looked, how you were as it's dorm leader…” alice peeks a glance at you. “and your parties with mada.”

“unbirthday parties.” trey corrects. “sometimes birthday parties if it really is someone's birthday.”

ace perks up. “let me tell you then! from first hand experience!” he blanched. like opening light about his own struggles in heartlsabyul magically meant the truth to riddle’s own kid. “labyul is really strict on rules. you know on my first day, I ate a tart and—”

deuce stirred slightly.

at riddle’s glare, ace visibly wilts to which cater snaps a picture with snickers. “I mean… the tart was really good, made by riddle and all…” he sweatdropped.

“you shouldn't eat a tart that is not made by you.” alice replied thoughtfully. riddle can't resist a light smile at her words, feeling a sense of accomplishment as he nodded along. his hand hovers for a moment before it pats down on their hair. “that's right. I must have taught you well.”

you absentmindedly patted their head, taking turns with riddle to do so while  expertly avoiding his gaze. “you said friday though, why?”

“on friday’s we don’t go out.” alice says.

“that isn’t a rule by the queen of hearts.” riddle points out.

“you made that rule papa.” they replied innocently. “in our home, so we get to spend time together as a family.”

silence reigns.

“wow.” you cough. sparing riddle an approving glance. that… sounded nice�� domestic, and nice. you supposed even as an adult riddle would still have some sort of grip on rules, considering he grew up with them, it helped him live.

and now rules he shaped helped him live with alice, and you apparently. 

tick.

tock.

tick.

tock.

alice peers down at the watch they pull out from under their little adorable coat, oblivious to the stunned silence they left behind. hesitantly, they place a hand on your knee, legs swinging as they rest the other on riddle’s. “mada.” they smiled, this time widely. “papa. I gotta go.”

“what?” riddle's eyes widened. “you haven't finished your tart yet.”

“it's okay. I already ate a tart earlier, papa.”

“you can eat another, just this time. if you want.” he insisted, strangely worried.

cater raises his hand. “can I?”

riddle disagrees immediately. “no.”

muttering something about favoritism, cater looked away with a long sigh.

riddle's eyes lingered on the roundness of alice's face. from the shape, to the more detailed parts of their features. eyes, your eyes. the lushness of their hair, the soft curve of their lips tilted with innocence sends an unexpected grip in his heart, like it's heart stopping.

gosh. his heart just stopped. would he really have his own alice? his eyes darted to you. with you?

alice huffed lightly, skin glimmering lightly as their shade slowly grew transculent and faded with each blink of your eyes. “I can always eat papa's tarts. they're so delicious.” 

“don't use too much magic.” riddle scolded with a crease in his brows.

you add. “don't anger riddle too much.”

“please eat his tarts.” ace encouraged.

trey shot him a look. “don't teach alice bad things.” he sighed, glancing at said child with a smile. “I'll teach you how to make your own tarts, ask uh… future me?”

cater, not wanting to be outdone quickly perked up. “as a future magicam star, I'll make you one too. little alice!” he added, self assured of his future fame.

when it all settles, all that remains is a space between you and riddle that feels too little than vast. and a remainder of your future.

“atleast we know what name we'll choose.” you can't resist but tease. riddle does not blow up like you would have thought from your remark, only sparing you a look of feigned annoyance with warming ears that doesn't support the idea of his irritation.

he resigns to a small nod. “I am assured they are taught well.”

ace glances between you, and riddle. “I miss alice already. riddle seemed a lot more lenient with them around. you think they got embarrassing stories from the future?” he comments off-handedly, leaning back against the couch and blowing on the fringe over his forehead. “when are you guys gonna make an alice? please make one now.”

cater whistles out of there.

trey shakes his head.

deuce–still passed out is thankfully considered by trey, who dragged his limp body with a nod of goodluck to ace.

you waved at ace. F indeed.

wait! don't leave me, upperclassman! ace cried in his mind, feeling the panic splinter his state of mind.

“ACE!” riddle gritted his teeth. “i'll hand down my sentence, the verdict comes afterwards–”

ace paled.

“off with your head–!”

trivia

alice’s name is very much inspired by alice from the one and only: “alice in wonderland”.

their unique magic is called: under my decree which is simply being able to summon card soldiers, and command them at their will! (in this case, after being sent to a maze and finding their way out thanks to the hedgehog. alice was able to discern that this was heartlsabyul, and figured they might be able to find their parents here, hence, why they used their magic.)

alice is written to be a well-behaved 8 year old.

the watch is a nod to my previous commissioned work who also dealt with the concept of time travelling and related to going back (ha, ha).

alice woke up by the sound of a clock ticking, and knew that hearing it again meant that their time was up.

the entire thing happened due to alice helping untangle a fae who happened to get stuck in their gardens at the backyard while they were looking for a hedgehog that had not yet eaten (spoiler: hedgehog was hiding in a small crack under the tree) the same fae visited them at night whilst sleeping and granted them a dream of whatever they wanted to wish. alice, feeling swayed by the magic despite being not aware made a wish to fulfill it.

boom! baby rosehearts in your faces!

alice woke up and immediately said young riddle was funnily shy to yuu. much to the confusion of actual current riddle!

their favorite tart is: anything with strawberries, like riddle.

rule 13, and rule 102 are entirely fictional and made up by me… for plot purposes…

not deuce = is actually yuu

not yuu = is actually ace

not ace = is actually deuce

deuce been sleeping for the entire time lol.

ace got roped into fixing the gardens with the collar on  #thatswhatyouget

riddle invites you to study for the nearing quiz season the following day.

[thepencilnerd]

take a slice

Summary: No one could imagine a more cunning or manipulative player than Shuntaro Chishiya—until he meets you. complete fic on my ao3 here <3 Word Count: 3.8k Contains: Depictions of violence, unresolved sexual tension, emotional constipation

A/N: because I binge-watched Alice In Borderland in the span of two days and I am very late to the party (but never too late for self-indulgent fan service)

Chishiya spots you across the same floor, your black silhouette nearly lost in the shadows of the night. It’s only your movement that catches his attention, the dark outerwear a sharp contrast to his bright white jacket. You and he are the only players scouting from this vantage point, watching from above while the chaos brews below.

The night is eerily quiet—the calm before the storm, as they say. Your gaze locks onto his, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. Chishiya feels his heartbeat falter, a fleeting hitch he quickly tamps down.

Before he can fully process it, you’ve already vanished around a corner, just as a rain of bullets peppers the area behind you.

A boy’s voice echoes from below, frantic. "The only way to clear this game is to work together!"

Bullshit , you think.

There must be a reason behind the attacker's anchoring position, Chishiya muses.

Of course.

When you finally make your way to the safe room, you’re welcomed by four unfamiliar figures: the spree-killing horse, the brunette boy from earlier, a girl with a bob, and the blonde. 

Chishiya strikes swiftly, the crackle of his taser breaking the stillness. The masked attacker crumples to the floor, their face hitting the ground with a muffled thud. You waste no time, stomping down hard on their wrist, sending the gun skittering from their hand. Before they can recover, you grab the weapon and fire a single round into the crown of their skull. 

When you glance up, you catch the faintest trace of a smirk ghosting across the blonde’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly.

In the seconds that follow, the two other players in the room hastily slam their hands on the red buttons lining the walls.

GAME COMPLETE. CONGRATULATIONS WINNERS. 

Turning around, a pair of wide eyes greets you. 

“Thank you,” the boy finally speaks, addressing you and the blonde in a shaky voice. 

You respond with a nod, glancing over at the girl and seeing her return the acknowledgement. 

“Don’t mention it.” The blonde’s condescending tone from behind you is paralleled only by his burning gaze, locking onto you immediately. He almost misses seeing you slip something from the dead body into your pocket. 

You feel his focus linger on you as you leave the room. 

The night air is thick with tension, the distant cries from nearby arenas only amplifying the silence with each footstep behind you. You don’t bother turning around; you already know who it is.

Chishiya steps into your peripheral vision, his pace unhurried, like a cat stalking in the shadows. The forest buzzes with the threat of unseen dangers, but all his attention is locked on you.

"You didn’t have to kill him," he says, his voice casual, almost amused, as though discussing the weather.

You don’t stop walking. "You didn’t stop me."

A quiet chuckle escapes him, barely more than a breath. "True." His tone remains light, but there’s an edge beneath it, like he’s testing you, challenging you. "Still, you’ve got a certain efficiency. Impressive."

Your expression stays neutral. And yet, Chishiya’s presence beside you stirs something strange—a shared awareness, as if you’re both circling an invisible boundary neither of you are quite ready to cross—yet.

"You took something," he says, breaking the silence again, his voice calm but probing. His gaze stays forward, unreadable. "From the body."

You glance at him briefly, just enough to meet his eyes, which glint with curiosity under the moonlight. He’s trying to figure you out.

"And what if I did?" There’s a challenge in your voice now.

Chishiya’s smirk returns, faint but unmistakable. "Nothing. For now."

The tension between you tightens, pulling you closer in the silence. The game isn’t over. Not between the two of you.

As you continue walking, he trails behind, but soon loses sight of you in the dense trees. Shadows shift, swallowing you whole. He barely has time to catch his breath before a sudden force slams him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. The disturbed soil and decaying leaves soften his fall, but his back still hits the earth with a solid thud.

Your knee digs sharply into his sternum, pinning him down. One hand tightens around his throat, not enough to choke him but enough to strain his breath. The cold, unforgiving edge of a blade presses against his cheek—a silent threat.

Chishiya’s indifferent expression makes your skin crawl, yet his stoic, unflinching gaze cuts through the moment like a dagger—piercing both hot and cold at once. Neither of you speak. It’s a game of cat and cat, both of you testing the other's resolve in this tense, silent standoff.

For a fleeting moment, he wonders if you can read each other’s thoughts.

You feel him gulp beneath your hand, his pulse quickening under your fingers. Both of his hands remain raised in surrender by his ears, calm, unwavering, and empty of any weapon or defense. His eyes flicker to the deep scar on your neck, lingering there for just a moment.

The air between you thickens. What feels like minutes pass in the span of heartbeats.

Without warning, you spring up and disappear into the night.

Chishiya stays on the ground for a moment, catching his breath. He sits up slowly, eyes tracing the path you took into the darkness. His chest rises and falls unevenly, the phantom cold of the blade still lingering on his skin. Silence wraps around him like a fog, but his pulse betrays him—racing, driven by more than just adrenaline.

For the first time in longer than he can remember, he feels something—a strange tug deep in his core, like something vital slipped away the moment you left. A curiosity stirs, mingling with the remnants of tension, a silent acknowledgment that this game isn’t over.

It’s only just begun.

Chishiya’s lips twitch into a faint smirk. Your piercing gaze and the scar on your neck are seared into his mind. He knows he’ll see you again. And next time, he won’t be caught off guard.

“You look like you have something on your mind.”

Kuina sits down across from Chishiya, her curiosity piqued as she watches him stare off into the distance. The evening air is still, a rare calmness settling over the Beach after a chaotic night.

Chishiya leans back, crossing his arms, a faint hum escaping his lips. “Just an interesting game tonight,” he replies casually, but there’s a lingering spark in his gaze that betrays more.

Kuina raises an eyebrow. “Must’ve been some game, then.”

“Perhaps,” Chishiya says, his voice smooth and unhurried. The rush of endorphins from the near-death experience still thrums faintly through his veins. 

The cause? A player whose actions were as cunning and unpredictable as his own. The thrill of narrowing down their motivations felt like a puzzle finally worth solving.

His mind drifts back to the game, replaying each moment like scenes in a movie. The chaos, the desperate shouts, and the blaring alarms all felt distant—mere background noise compared to the razor-sharp focus he'd found himself drawn to. That focus was centered on one person.

You had been an anomaly from the start. There was a precision in the way you moved, calculated and unfazed by the panic unraveling around you. It was as if you thrived on the chaos, embraced it even, letting it fuel each step you took. While the other players were scrambling to find shelter or allies, you seemed to anticipate every move, predicting the patterns before they even unfolded.

And then, the moment that had truly hooked him: the kill. Cold, efficient, and executed without a trace of hesitation. You weren’t just surviving; you were playing the game in its purest form—adapting, evolving, always a step ahead. There was no hesitation in your actions, no unnecessary flourish—just the unyielding will to end a threat. It wasn’t just about self-preservation; it was about winning. And that’s what made you different.

Chishiya’s curiosity flared the instant your eyes met his in the aftermath. For the briefest moment, he’d seen a flicker of something—recognition, maybe even a hint of challenge. Like you were silently asking him if he had what it took to keep up.

It was absurd, really, to feel anything in the Borderlands beyond the mechanical urge to survive. But something had shifted tonight. For the first time in what felt like forever, the game had become more than a series of calculated risks and rewards: it had become interesting.

Chishiya’s gaze shifts back to the window where lights scatter the sky. His fingers tap idly on the armrest of his chair, a rhythm betraying the restlessness he tries to mask. He’s always prided himself on being detached, keeping emotions and sentiment far from his calculations. Yet here he is, preoccupied with thoughts that don't have a place in his carefully constructed logic.

"You're quiet," Kuina observes, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. "More than usual, I mean."

Chishiya’s smirk is faint, barely there. “Am I?”

She shrugs, leaning back in her seat. “You’ve been lost in your own head since you got back.” 

Chishiya’s expression doesn’t falter, but there’s a slight shift in his demeanor—a barely perceptible sign of vulnerability, quickly smoothed over. “Maybe I’m just considering... possibilities,” he replies, the words coming slower than usual, as if he’s testing how they sound. 

Kuina’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Possibilities, huh?” She tilts her head, studying him. “That’s one way of putting it. Or maybe… a person?”

Chishiya’s silence is uncharacteristic. He feels the pull to dismiss the notion immediately, to scoff at the idea of being distracted by a person, much less affected by them. But instead, he pauses. It’s enough for Kuina to catch on, her curiosity piqued.

“Interesting,” she murmurs, a teasing smile curling on her lips. “You’re actually thinking about someone, aren’t you?” When he doesn’t respond, she presses further. “It’s a girl, right? Did she do something to catch your eye?”

Chishiya finally meets her gaze, his own guarded but not entirely dismissive. “She’s... unusual,” he admits, the words coming out almost reluctantly. “Not like the others.”

Kuina arches an eyebrow. “Unusual how? Smart? Dangerous?”

“Both,” he replies without hesitation. “Efficient, focused. But there’s something else.” He uncrosses his arms, feeling oddly exposed, as though admitting to these thoughts makes them more real, more tangible. “It’s like she’s not playing the same game as the rest of them.”

Kuina studies him for a moment, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’ve got it bad,” she says, shaking her head. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d be drawn to someone for more than their utility.”

He scoffs, a ghost of his usual arrogance returning. “Don’t get carried away. I’m only interested because she might be useful.”

“Sure,” Kuina says with a knowing grin. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Chishiya falls silent again, but the truth gnaws at him. He knows it’s more than just her utility in the grand scheme of escaping this hellhole. It’s the way she challenges him—forces him to reevaluate his strategies and makes him wonder if there’s more to this game than just surviving.

He hates how that thought clings to him, even as he tries to push it away.

Chishiya shifts in his chair, feeling a dull ache radiate from his chest. He’s been operating on a different level since encountering you, and the physical reminder feels almost like an anchor to what he’s been trying to navigate.

He glances at Kuina, who’s still watching him with an amused expression, still probing. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

“Just considering my next move,” he replies, a hint of a smirk returning to his lips. “The game is full of variables, and I need to prepare for them.”

“Variables, huh? Is that what you call her now?” Kuina teases, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table.

“Focus,” he snaps lightly, but there’s no real heat in his voice. Instead, his mind races ahead to the next game, and how he can draw you in, maybe even observe you more closely. He’s already picturing the scenarios—the players, the setting, the stakes.

What he really wants is a way to see you again. To understand the force that pulls him toward you, the complexity that makes you more than just another player. The anticipation churns within him, exciting yet unnerving.

“What if I made a move to recruit her?” he muses aloud, considering the prospect. “She could be an asset. If she operates outside the norm, that could change the dynamics of our strategies.”

“Or it could blow up in your face,” Kuina counters, her tone light but her gaze serious. “You’re not exactly known for your emotionality, Chishiya. What if she doesn’t want to play?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, brushing off her concern. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

But the truth is, he knows that this isn’t merely about the game anymore. It’s about the way you make him feel—like a player in a game he thought he understood, now suddenly complex and exhilarating. Chishiya can’t shake the thought that if he wants to unlock the potential you represent, he’ll have to make a move soon.

He allows himself a moment of vulnerability, resting his chin on his hand as he reflects. “What if I want to see her again, Kuina? What if it’s not just about strategy anymore?”

Kuina’s eyes widen, clearly surprised by his admission. “Wow. You’re actually admitting you care.”

Chishiya rolls his eyes but can’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Sure,” she says, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Just remember, sometimes the best strategies are the ones that come from the heart.”

With that, Chishiya’s mind drifts again, calculating and assessing. He’ll be ready for the next game. He’ll be prepared to take any risk to find you again, to unravel the mystery of what you truly are: a partner, a rival, or perhaps something more. As the night draws to a close, the shadows deepen, but a flicker of determination ignites within him.

He will see you again.

A few days have passed since the last game, but the adrenaline still courses through your veins, lingering like a ghost. You survived, but the victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the memory of the indifferent blonde boy who’s drawn you in more than you care to admit.

Your thoughts drift back to that game—its intensity still vivid in your mind. It was like no other you’d experienced, where survival felt more like a dance with death than a struggle against it. And he was at the center of it, moving through the chaos with a calculated grace that caught your attention long before you understood why.

It wasn’t just that he was calm under pressure. Plenty of players had nerves of steel. It was his indifference, the way he seemed detached from the dangers around him, as though nothing could touch him. Where others flinched or panicked, he merely observed, as if the unfolding chaos was a puzzle to solve rather than a life-or-death situation. That kind of control was rare in the Borderlands, and in some strange way, it felt like a dare, an unspoken challenge that made you want to test him, to see if there was anything that could shatter that composure.

You remember the moment you locked eyes across the chaos, the way the world seemed to fade into the background. It was brief, but in that instant, it felt like a silent conversation—an understanding that went beyond words. There was something sharp in his gaze, a spark of curiosity that mirrored your own. It was as if he was evaluating you, sizing you up just as you were doing to him. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you were seeing a part of yourself reflected back in those cold, calculating eyes.

But it wasn’t just his composure or his gaze that drew you in. It was the way he acted in those crucial seconds when lives hung in the balance. While others scrambled to save themselves, he made moves that seemed almost playful, like he was toying with the danger rather than simply evading it. There was a thrill in watching him maneuver through the madness with an ease that bordered on arrogance, as though he was always three steps ahead of everyone else—including you.

And then there was the moment when the game ended. You had both survived, of course, but there was something in the way he looked at you afterward, something that lingered, a faint smirk that hinted he had seen more than you’d intended to reveal. It wasn’t pity; it was as if he recognized a kindred spirit, someone who understood the game on a different level. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt truly seen. 

That feeling unsettles you even now, as you sit by the fire, staring into the flames. It’s not that you seek validation in the Borderlands; you’ve learned long ago that the only approval that matters is your own. But there’s something about his quiet confidence, the way he seemed to acknowledge you without saying a word, that’s hard to shake. It makes you wonder if he was as unaffected as he appeared or if there was more beneath the surface, something hidden behind that cool exterior.

You clench your jaw, frustrated with yourself for even thinking about him this much. He was just another player—albeit a skilled one—and you’ve dealt with plenty of them before. But there’s a part of you that can’t ignore the way his presence lingers, like a splinter in your mind, a question that refuses to be answered.

Why did he make such an impression on you? Was it his composure, his intelligence, or the quiet thrill of crossing paths with someone who didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else? Or was it the way he seemed to see you in return, as if you were more than just a piece on the board?

You realize that you don’t know the answers—and perhaps that’s what’s most intriguing of all. There’s an unfinished quality to your last encounter, a feeling that your story with him isn’t over yet. It’s as if the game itself has drawn a line between you, daring you to cross it again.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts that have become stubborn visitors in your mind. Why does he occupy your thoughts so much? Is it his calm indifference, the way he moved with calculated grace? Or is it something more that stirs a curiosity you can’t quite define?

Pushing the thoughts aside, you focus on your routine, an independent existence in the Borderlands, where survival means mastering skills few have the patience to learn. You've carved out a small camp nestled within the trees, camouflaged by foliage, a sanctuary of sorts amidst the chaos.

Every morning, you rise before dawn, the cool air biting at your skin as you check your traps. The gentle sounds of the forest waking around you are a familiar symphony, one you find solace in. You harvest small game—rabbits, birds, whatever you can catch—and meticulously prepare them, savoring the simple act of cooking over a small fire.

Hunting and foraging have become second nature. You collect wild herbs and edible plants, storing them in makeshift pouches crafted from scavenged materials. Each successful hunt reminds you of your resilience and strength. 

But even as you focus on these tasks, your mind drifts back to him—the blonde boy from the game. The way his piercing gaze seemed to see right through you, as if he was calculating your every move. It’s unsettling yet exhilarating, a contradiction you can’t wrap your head around.

The sun climbs higher, and you take a break from your chores to wash your hands in a nearby stream, the water refreshing against your skin. As you splash your face, you catch your reflection in the rippling surface, a mix of determination and uncertainty staring back at you.

You spend the afternoon working on camp, reinforcing the makeshift walls and clearing away debris that threatens your space. But even as you work to distract yourself, you can almost feel his presence lurking at the edge of your thoughts, his smirk dancing on your mind like a memory that refuses to fade.

Eventually, you settle on a log outside your camp, a piece of driftwood you dragged from the riverbank. Pulling out your small notebook, you begin to sketch the maps of the Borderlands, noting down resources and potential hideouts. It’s practical, a way to keep your mind sharp, but each mark on the page feels like a tether to the games, to the players who dance around you like shadows.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the small, crumpled piece of paper you took from the body during the game. You’ve looked at it countless times since then, trying to make sense of the chaotic scribbles. It’s a series of numbers and symbols—coordinates, perhaps, or some kind of code. Whatever it is, it’s not immediately clear, and that only deepens your curiosity.

You flatten the paper against the rough surface of the log, comparing it with your sketches. Could it be a location in the Borderlands? A clue to something hidden or an upcoming game? The patterns don’t align with any familiar maps, but something about the markings feels deliberate, as though there’s a message buried within them. You trace the lines with your finger, committing them to memory, trying to see what the original owner had seen. What was so important that they’d die with it?

Your mind drifts back to the moment you took it. The blonde boy’s eyes had flickered towards you—just for a heartbeat—when you pocketed the paper. Did he know what it meant, or had he noticed the same curiosity in you that you now feel?

As you draw, memories of the game resurface: his calculated moves, his indifferent demeanor, and the strange thrill of standing against him. There’s something magnetic about his presence, something that both fascinates and frustrates you.

In the fading light of dusk, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the forest wash over you. The call of distant birds, the rustle of branches—each note a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re here, navigating a world filled with peril and unpredictability. But still, the thought lingers. Will your paths cross in the next game, or will you remain a ghost in his memory?

With a sigh, you shake your head and return to your sketches, determination settling in your chest. It doesn’t matter. Yet, in the depths of your mind, a part of you yearns for that inevitable meeting, that chance to unravel the enigma that is the blonde boy.

As darkness settles over the forest, you tuck your notebook away, the images of your maps a promise of the journey ahead. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, new games to navigate. And if fate has its way, perhaps it will also bring him back into your orbit once more.

[allimili]

I know this is probably an awful idea, but what would happen if you showed affection to Mr. Eyes? Since he's so used to being seen as scary, would he be confused? Would he appreciate it? He just looks like he needs a forehead kiss, maybe some head pats.

-🍋

They'll be confused but slowly liking it so now they want more of it.

Now whenever mr eyes sees you, they'll cut off their head for you to headpat them :3

[fear-is-truth]

mdni 18+

rafe cameron is a tease, and not the kind that makes it fun. he revels in making you suffer. gets off on the sight of you writhing in his lap, grinding down on the thick, hard press of him, but he won’t give you what you want—not yet. instead, he lounges back, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth curling into a mean leer. “what, baby? need somethin’?” his fingers find your jaw, thumb pressing into the soft hinge of it, tilting your face up. restraint strung so thin and tight it’s a miracle he hasn’t snapped. “c’mon,” he coos, voice coaxing, filthy in its sweetness. “be a good girl. ask me real nice.”

rafe cameron is violent. not to you, never to you, but all that rage, just looking for an excuse—a fist connecting with a jaw, followed by the sickening crack of cartilage giving way. and you should stop him, because it’s the decent thing to do—but all you can feel is the slow coil of heat licking up the base of your spine, thighs clenching together involuntarily. and later, rafe’s hands are still shaking, but they’re on you now, and that’s all that matters. “you like that, huh? bet you were fucking soaking for it.” because of course he fucking knows. he clocked it the second he threw that first punch—the look on your face, not horror, not even disgust (which would’ve been justified), but with something else. fascination. “god, you’re sick, baby,” he croons, pressing his thigh between yours, forcing a slow, grinding friction that has you biting back a moan. “good thing i am too.”

rafe cameron is prone to jealousy. it is an ugly thing. and it doesn’t take much. if another guy so much as looks at you the wrong way and rafe sees it, he doesn’t bother pretending he’s not pissed. “you think i didn’t notice that? you fuckin’ smiling at him?” his voice is bitten-off, like the thought itself physically pains him. and maybe it does. maybe that’s why he’s panting, pupils blown wide, hands shaking as they yank your thighs apart, forces you to feel the way he’s still twitching with it. he makes you redeem yourself. has you choking on his name like it’s your only salvation, again and again and again, repentance. until he’s inside you in every sense that matters—body, mind, and soul.

rafe cameron is clingy, and that’s the real kicker. when you’re spent, raw, leaking his cum between your thighs, he doesn’t let you go. won’t let you go. arms cinch around your waist like a vice, his skin is searing hot where it presses to yours, even as the sweat cools and your body shakes with the aftermath. even then, he’s still latched on, burying his face in the crook of your neck.