#I love this twisted version of the character a little too much

[themistressofdolls]

TF of my character Leah to Reisen II[KKHTA canon version] A series I love but its not easy to recommend to everyone due to the heavy content of the fan series.

Commission done by yellowcatart98 and posted with permission, go check them out https://www.deviantart.com/yellowcatart98

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader confesses to the Dateables

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 3 , Demon brothers version

Anon request: Could I request headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon react to shy gn crush confessing to him nervously?

.

A/N: I made this so the Dateables were already crushing on the reader for a while, but it's the reader who confesses. Once again, Simeon gave me no inspiration and yet his section was the one I enjoyed the most

.

Diavolo

He’s used to loneliness and sacrifices, dedicating his limited free time to a small inner circle that he’s unable to expand. The rest of his devotions goes to his dreams and his duties, and that includes, above many other things, the student exchange program.

The only human he personally knows is Solomon and everybody is aware of the sorcerer’s peculiar personality, so he’s quick to accept that you’re going to be different from everything he’s ever known.

He just didn’t know how much.

You build a friendship with him, treating him without inhibitions while still respecting him. You accept and join his childish whims, ask for his advice in more serious matters and speak your mind without fear.

You make him feel normal, helping his love for you grow slow but steady over a strong foundation.

But then your behaviour around him changes and he feels completely lost. There’s a sort of restraint he’s never seen in you, your recent silence and your avoidance to look at him in the eye making him wonder in hurt if you finally know enough about him to be afraid.

Diavolo feels his heart sink when you ask to speak to him in private and he’s willing to accept he has lost you.

How wrong he is.

Your confession leaves him speechless, but the more you talk with a stammer while twisting your fingers, the more he feels his cheeks blush.

He doesn’t confess back. He directly asks you out on a date.

Barbatos

His duty to the Young Master doesn’t feel like a sacrifice to him. It’s an honour he’s glad to act in, so, although he likes to keep some free time for his private life, Barbatos is more than happy to set Lord Diavolo above everything else.

He doesn’t pay you much attention at first, given that there’s little to no connexion between you two. In fact, the first few times you hang out together outside official matters it’s always organized by someone else, mainly Luke.

The young angel enjoys baking and even his prejudices decrease upon the demon’s talents in the kitchen.

He also enjoys spending time with you.

So he combines both of those things. That’s how Barbatos gets to know you better.

He revels in the discovery of your resilience and your kindness despite what surrounds you. Your smile while measuring ingredients with Luke, your attentiveness at his teaching.

He knows Lord Diavolo appreciates him and thanks his presence, but you’re the first one to treat him so… highly? You admire him, you hear him, you seek him.

His busy mind and busy schedule give him almost no time to ruminate his feelings, but he can’t run away for much longer.

It’s around the same time he finally accepts his need to be with you that you start to fidget around him. He sees you looking at him under your lashes, timidly smiling and looking at him when you think he isn’t paying attention.

Your feelings are obvious to him, but he lets himself enjoy the situation for as long as possible. It’s too adorable to let go.

When you finally gather the courage you need to confess and it’s his turn to be sincere, his words are worth more than a hundred romance books.

Solomon

At the beginning, his interest in you is entirely academic. A regular human living amongst the most powerful demons of the Devildom? Now, that is something worth his while!

Witnessing first-hand how your humanity is put to the test on the daily is fun at first, but then again… You still have humanity. Once lost, it wouldn’t come back.

He ultimately decides to side with you. It makes him feel a little better too.

Although you both have a cordial relationship, barely a friendship, he isn’t your priority. To be fair, you aren’t his either, so he can’t complain.

But then time passes and his infatuation starts to grow.

You remind him of better things. Those he lost long time ago and those he knows he’s incapable of reaching. You make him want to be better, to try and to be someone that you could be prouder of.

He uses his vast knowledge to compete for your attention. His stories and his studies, his vulnerability slowly showing to you. It’s difficult, but you’re worth it.

He knows it’s working when you go out of your way to spend time with him, a difficult task when half of your roommates, if not all of them, don’t trust him at all. That makes him elated, but insecure at the same time.

He doesn’t know how to move things forward without spoiling them, so he waits until you make the first move. When the moment comes, he forces himself to memorize every second of it.

Solomon doesn’t want to forget your timid expression or the way you can’t decide what to say to put your feelings on display. He doesn’t want to forget the wide smile you show when he reciprocates your affections.

Simeon

He cares for you since the beginning, even before forming a friendship. It’s in his nature to be kind and caring and he can’t help but to act on it with you.

Your personality immediately draws him closer. How positive you are despite your situation as well as your determination to keep going forward, proving the demons wrong.

Simeon feels a strange satisfaction whenever Lucifer’s brow twitches at your misdeeds.

It’s thanks to Luke, who wants to keep two of his favourite people close, that he gets the chance to know you better.

He enjoys every occasion you visit Purgatory Hall. Sometimes you’re invited by Luke to help him cook, study or even make puzzles; and other times is Simeon himself who asks you to spend time with them.

The evenings you manage to have dinner with them are the most fulfilling for him.

He’s never felt a love so strong before, but he’s a world renounced writer and a romantic at heart, so the only thing he’s capable of doing in this situation is to pour his affections and hope for you to accept his heart.

The conclusion reaches an end when he manages to reset his DDD yet again.

Luke, although irritated at him, manages to call you before going to the castle to hung out with Barbatos, but Simeon doesn’t mind. More than that, he prefers it.

The sole idea of being alone with you brings warmth to his heart, after all.

He knows you feel the same too. Seeing the light in your eyes, the curve of your smile and the tenderness in your shy-filled whispers is enough for him to know.

You don’t even have time to confess on your own.

Simeon asks with a sweet voice if his interpretations of your feelings are correct. If they are, bless his heart, he feels the very same.

.

.

[dotster001]

Hello! I really liked your fanfic about mistletoe and I would like to submit my application. Can you write what type of girl the characters in the twisted wonderland like?

What Kind of Girl they Like

Summary: Fem! Reader What girl the twisted wonderland boys say they will fall for, versus who they will be attracted to.

CW: Fem! Reader, some of the boys are assholes with their answers, it's explained away in the who they end up with section, so take it with a grain of salt, also these are just my opinions. If you don't agree that's ok!

A/n:it is truly humbling how few of these I actually fit the description of 😭 also, feel free to send in an ask if you want the staff and non nrc boys, or a masc. Reader version (there are some differences for some of them for a male lover)

Masc Version gn! Version

Heartslaybul 

Ace Trappola

What he says

"I dunno, she'd have a great bod and make me sandwiches. Kidding! Sevens, don't glare at me like that, I was just messing with ya! She's probably smart, and sweet as sugar, and let's me get into trouble. And a great bod wouldn't hurt- hey don't throw stuff at me!"

Who he ends up with

Ace is going to be naturally attracted to a girl he can "bring out the worst in."  She probably starts out shy and quiet, then Ace adopts her into his friend group, and now they are sassing each other back and forth. She calls him out on his bullshit, and fights against his teasing with teasing of her own. But she also takes care of him when he's down. He's hiding a lot of insecurity under his cool guy exterior, so if she lets him snuggle, and lets him whine, and then whispers how much she loves him, he'll be a happy man. Also, side note, he's fine if you like sports, but if you know nothing about basketball, it means he gets to look really good when you come to his games. Just saying….

Deuce Spade

What he says

"Huh, I've never really thought about it. Um, I guess she's nice and funny, and isn't scared of my past. I'd also want her to be a little like you, Y/N….not that I like you! Well, I like you, not like like you, shit I'm sorry! This isn't sounding any better…"

Who he ends up with

He really means it when he says he wants someone like you. You're one of his first friends, and, in his mind, the person you date/marry should be your best friend. But if it's not you he ends up with, he will probably be attracted to a girl who's book smart, but less street smart. A little "dumb" like him, in a cute kind of way. He likes a cuddler, and maybe a girl who is shorter than him so that he can feel like he's swallowing her whole when he wraps his arms around her. Also, someone who encourages him and helps him with his homework/paperwork. 

Riddle Rosehearts

What he says

"I don't have time for a relationship right now….but I think I want someone well behaved who follows the rules- what are you smirking at? Just because you're a rule breaker doesn't mean every girl is. I'd also like her to be in the medical profession. You know, someone who works the same profession as me so we have similar interests."

Who he ends up with

As much as he hates to admit it…he's attracted to rule breakers. Not as bad as Ace obviously, he's not trying to go gray early. But if she says something like "let's have a non herbal tea" when it's time for only herbal tea…damn what a rush. By the time he gets serious with someone, he'll be confident enough in himself to cut ties with his mother, so she has to be strong willed, and willing to live off of a low budget for a while.  He'll need someone understanding, who knows he'll have relapses and be too much and too angry sometimes, and she has to be understanding of that, and encouraging of improvement, or he'll live with guilt for the rest of his life. 

Trey Clover

What he says

"Someone who's willing to settle down and grow fat and old with me. You're laughing, but I'm going to be running my parents bakery, and feeding people is my love language. Speaking of, you better finish off that slice of cake before the others steal it."

Who he ends up with

Trey isn't that picky. He really means it when he says he wants someone to get old and fat with. That's his dream. Running a bakery with his wife by his side, and growing old together as your own kids grow up and bring home their own spouses. But he also wants a girl he can blindside with his sadistic side. Someone who'll enjoy that side of him, but also someone who easily forgets it's there. It makes things more fun for him.

Cater Diamond

What he says

"Ha ha someone trendy and totes hot. Someone totally cammable. Aw, are you jealous? Don't worry, you'll always be my fave girlie, even if you're not the girl I love."

Who he ends up with

Cater wants someone who won't disappear when he looks away. Yes, if she's "cammable" that's the first thing he's looking for, but when all is said and done, if she seems like she's going to be flaky, he won't take it too seriously either, as a defense mechanism. He needs a girl with mental endurance, because he's going to spend the beginning of the relationship trying to scare her off. Not that he wants to, he just needs to know he won't be left alone like he usually is. He is going to be attracted to a girl who humors his trends and magicam addiction, but who also sees through him. Someone balanced.  She sees the real Cay Cay, but she's also willing to be his "trophy wife" online.

Savannaclaw

Jack Howl

What he says

"Oh, I uh, well someone who can keep up on a run with me I guess…"

Who he ends up with

Jack says he wants someone who can work out with him. And he would really be happy if he had a girl who was as active as him…but he'd also be happy with a curvy girl. He gets blushy thinking about holding someone soft and plush against his firm muscles. But he's flexible. In the end he won't choose his future wife based on appearance and activity. Wolf beastmen mate for life, so the main thing he is looking for is loyalty. Loyalty, and someone who would want to raise lots of kids with him. As long as you have those two traits, nothing else really matters to him.

Ruggie Bucchi

What he says

"Girlfriends are expensive, shihihi. Tell you what, you find me a lady with sticky fingers, and we'll eat the rich together."

Who he ends up with

This is a deflection. Ruggie loves the idea of a busy business wife, while he is a trophy househusband, cooking and cleaning for his high powered  lady. He wants a strong woman who will scratch his ears and tell him he did such a good job! Then he'll draw her a bath, and massage her feet as she tells him about her day, then they'll snuggle and make out until they fall asleep…that's the dream anyway. He can be a little worker bee until you rise through the ranks, which you will, Ruggie has absolute faith in you. You guys can rob people early on if you have to. In short…Ruggie wants a dommish woman who will call him a good boy and keep him well fed.

Leona Kingscholar

What he says

"Body pillow"

"That's not-"

"Body pillow"

Who he ends up with

He's going to be attracted to a strong woman who whips his ass into shape. Someone who says, "Hey bitch, you're going to therapy, cause I love you and want you to be happy!" And then she actually makes him go. And when he does go, she rewards him with snuggles, and soft kisses. He wants a woman who's never scared of him, who's self assured, and is certain and vocal about her feelings for him.

Also, she has to accept that nighttime is when she's a body pillow. That's an absolute must.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

What he says

"Why do you wish to know? Are you attempting to reach my standards? Ha ha, let's see. A woman who is ethereal, who is willing to dress stunningly, and sit in my lap when I make deals, so that competitors can see what a high value man I am."

Who he ends up with

If that didn't make you want to throw up 🤢. He'll be attracted to someone who makes him feel beautiful in subtle ways. He knows how easy it is to spin a verbal web of lies. But there's some things you can't fake. Like allowing someone to rest on your lap, and caressing their hair. Or squeezing someone's hand gently when you have to let go. Or pressing a kiss to someone's cheek after you help them straighten their outfit. It's the soft romantic moments that'll speak to Azul when he finds his love. Aside from that, he's not looking for anything in particular. Just someone who makes him feel loved and beautiful.

Jade Leech

What he says

"Fu fu who's to say? Perhaps you are the woman of my dreams. Or not."

Who he ends up with

She's a woman who can see through him. She's someone who never compares him or confuses him for his twin. She's smart. Very smart. She eats his mushrooms and goes on hikes with him. She is patient with Floyd. What Jade is looking for….is female Jade. Someone like that is the only one who can truly keep up with him.

Floyd Leech

What he says

"Aw Shrimpy! Are you worried? Don't worry, whoever she is, I'll still squeeze ya!"

Who he ends up with

He's looking for someone fun. That's his only criteria. At least that's what he says. He can't be sure if he loves her because she's fun, or if she's fun because he loves her. In that sense, it's sort of a soulmate situation for Floyd. Whatever will be will be. He'll just know. 

…

…

…

Also she has to be squeezable. 

Scarabia

Kalim al Asim

What he says

"I love everybody!"

"But-"

"Have some of this ice cream, it's amazing!"

Who he ends up with

He wants someone he can spoil, but he doesn't know that. It's something in his subconscious. He doesn't want things in exchange either. So she has to be someone who is okay with being spoiled, and doesn't feel guilty about it. He's going to be attracted to someone who loves life like him, but also helps to keep him grounded. And if she has a spark of danger in her, oh man, he'll be simping so hard. 

Jamil Viper

What he says

"I'm not going to even think about it until my freedom is assured. Kalim has promised, but it would be irresponsible to force someone into servitude with me."

Who he ends up with

Jamil is going to be attracted to a hard worker. Someone who's dedicated, and slightly serious. He's also looking for a girl who will see how hard he works, and pampers him from time to time. He's never been in charge of anything, so he likes being the boss of the household. Not that he doesn't see her as an equal! On the contrary, he wants his marriage to be a partnership. But the idea of having somewhere where he is king is definitely something he likes. She can rule the house from as well. They can split the time they rule over the household. They'll take turns being served and pampered.

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

What he says

"Um, she knows I'm the boss. Wait, that came out misogynistic, sorry I jus mean she knows I'm manly and can support her an all that."

Who he ends up with

He says he wants a cutsie tiny housewife, so that he can be the manly man at the manliest job for mans. He really will be attracted to any girl who doesn't doubt his masculinity, nor call him cute. Someone who tells him that they feel safe and secure with him. He says he wants a short wife. But he's fine with any size or shape as long as she sees him as someone who can care for her. 

Rook Hunt

What he says

"Mademoiselle trickster, I can find beauty in every woman."

Who he ends up with

What he says is actually true. He can and will fall in love with every kind of woman. It's hard to say who he will tie himself to, in the end. It'll be someone who he heavily bonds with and imprints on. It's a lot like with Floyd. Essentially a soulmate situation.

Vil Schoenheit

What he says

"Hm. Why do you want to know, potato? I suppose she's professional, and beautiful, and cares about her image enough that she doesn't cause a scandal."

Who he ends up with

The thing about Vil is, he's not that far off from Rook in his take on beauty. He doesn't so much believe in conventional beauty, or societal beauty standards. He knows everyone has an individual definition of health and beauty. When he says he's looking for a beautiful woman, he's looking for someone who's willing to reach her full potential. Or, more accurately, to allow him to help her reach her full potential. Vil never admits it, but he adores pampering and styling people. His love language is helping people look their best. So if she's someone who knows herself enough to know what style she likes, he'll appreciate it, and take up the mantle of doing the hard work, ie making outfits, styling hair and makeup, formulating skin care etc. TLDR, he wants a confident self possessed woman he can dress like a doll, and show off.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

What he says

"-------------" mutes ipad.

In his head, he doesn't think any woman would ever love him. But his dream woman is a sexy anime cat girl.

Who he ends up with

What he'll be attracted to is someone who is patient, speaks at a reasonable volume, and is assertive enough to make him leave his room. Essentially, winning Idia's heart is a siege. You'll have to starve him out. That's the patience bit. The reasonable volume comes from him being easily scared by loud noises. Assertive enough to make him leave his room…well that speaks for itself. He wants to believe he can be part of the outside world, and the girl he will fall for will be willing to show it to him.

Diasomnia

Sebek Zigvolt

What he says

"She is someone of noble bearing, who shall help me defend my liege!"

Who he ends up with

He'll fall for a woman who is stronger, mentally, physically, etc., than him. A woman who can put him in his place. A woman who speaks, and it makes him shut up, and sit pretty. She's assertive, and can come off as abrasive to others but to Sebek? Sevens, he'd die for a smidgen of her affection.

Silver

What he says

"I don't think it's worth it to try and define the girl I'll fall in love with. There are so many wonderful women, and my father always told me that love is the greatest mystery in this world. Who's to say who I'll fall in love with?"

Who he ends up with

Silver will fall for someone soft. The entire romance will be soft. Soft caresses in the moonlight. Soft kisses in the morning. Soft fingers gently intertwining.  She'll be empathetic about his sleep condition, never blaming him since it's not his fault. She'll be gentle with his animal friends. She'll be sweet and kind and the very image of a Disney Princess. I'm picturing Aurora, actually. How ironic.

Lilia Vanrouge

What he says

"Fu Fu Fu wouldn't you like to know."

Who he ends up with

Lilia can and has fallen for every kind of woman. He's lived a long time. He's had the time to romance lots of women.  What he'd probably fall for in this stage of his life, is someone he can tease, and play around with, but who is also ready to settle down a little bit. Someone who enjoys the little things in life. He's getting a little old. He wants to build onto his family that he already has. Silver can stand to have three or ten more siblings, right?

Malleus Draconia

What he says

"You."

Who he ends up with

You.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic

[blue-mood-blue]

I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

[bones4thecats]

Hi hi! I saw a post of yours saying requests were open so I hope it's alright for me to request something with platonic Twisted Wonderland x Reader (^w^)

Could I request Epel, Ace, and Deuce (separately) with a gender neutral reader who's a few years older than them and perceives them as a younger sibling? (Like, they have his back when he needs it, may tease him if he does something silly, and helps with homework etc.)

I hope this wasn't too long/an odd request lol. I hope you have a lovely day! Remember to stay hydrated and avoid shrimp posture when you spend time at a table/desk! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Having An Older Sibling Figure! Reader

Characters: Epel Felmier, Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade Requester: 👪Anon A/N: I’ll name you 👪Anon and I hope you enjoy this. And I think it’s a little late on the shrimp posture thing, pretty sure it’s my body’s default position now lmao🤣 P.S: Each version of the Reader is based on a different Disney character; Epel - The Raven, Ace - Mad Hatter, and Deuce - The Caterpillar ⚠️ Trigger Warning for: Mentions of substance abuse ⚠️

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Epel Felmier 　———————————-««

🍎 As a high-ranking member in Pomefiore, you were seen as perfect. From your hair to your voice and the way you walk, many believed you to be the embodiment of what the Fairest one of All was

🍎 The only person you knew who didn’t believe that was a first-year, Epel Felmier

🍎 You were used to taking care of others because of your younger siblings, but Epel was a whole other case. Not that his stubbornness could deter your devoted spirit

🍎 Whenever he would need a break, not want but need, you would tell your housewarden that you would handle him while your large-black wings would flutter and flap to motivate the vice-houswarden to keep his hands to himself. Feathers are sensitive after all

🍎 He began to accept you when you kept getting him out of some situations with Vil, and since your record was squeaky clean with your fellow third-year, it was very easy to loosen Epel’s metaphorical leash

🍎 While he does not appreciate the teasing words you give him whenever he gets caught messing around by Vil, he would be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to know that despite his personality obviously not matching with the Pomefiore-stereotype, you were always by his side

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»»———————————-　 Ace Trappola 　———————————-««

🪅 As the most chaotic member inside of the Heartslabyul dorm, you were always seen making your current housewarden's upset. Ever since you first joined the school two years prior, you annoyed Riddle to no end

🪅 Though, when your older friend's classmate's younger brother decided to attend and got sorted into your dorm, you had to admit you wondered how much chaos you could cause with the younger Trappola boy

🪅 When you first met him, you tipped your hat off and laughed without an sense of sanity, which made Ace both nervous and interested in you

🪅 He has never seen someone as care-free as you before, especially in a dorm that was always fearful of their leader

🪅 You adore teasing him with your classic: "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" question. And whenever he answers and you admit your personal cluelessness, he gets upset, which makes you laugh

🪅 He may never admit to it, but he sees you like another older sibling. Though, he bonds with you in more chaotic ways than he could his actual biological brother, since he was far more mature than a duo of teenage college students

🪅 You had definitely saved him from Riddle's rage by pointing out an affect of your unique magic which has 'accidentally' made the housewarden's crown go running for it's money

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Deuce Spade　———————————-««

♠️ As his childhood was full of mishaps and trouble being caused by his oblivious-self, Deuce believed himself to be unworthy of devotion of a sibling, or anyone fairly close to him that wasn't his mother or grandmother

♠️ So, when you, a high-placing member of the Heartslabyul dorm came into his life by being found hanging around a larger-than-life mushroom, which was surrounded by many tall pieces of grass and whatnot, he was surprised at how sibling-like you treated him

♠️ When you explained why you seemed to look out for him, it made him realize he wasn't the only person with regrets...

"If I may ask, Mr/Miss. L/N. Why is it that you seem to not give up on me like others? I'm struggling to understand it myself." Deuce asked you as you laid with your back against the mushroom's cap.

"Young man, I do not tell my truth often. But, when I was a young newborn, my family ran a business that, let us say, was quite different. I began to abuse some types of material that I shouldn't have. And when I met my dear friend, Cater Diamond, I understood just how much harm it was causing me. From that day forward I pledged myself to leave my faults behind me. Now, when I see a soul as damaged as yours aiming for a good future, I cannot help but see a younger me in you. Do you understand?"

♠️ Deuce looked up at you in shock, he understood that unique magic could be hard to unlock, but hearing that you had to smoke and do all kinds of things just to gain it was horrendous to hear! But, when you compared yourself to him, his heart pounded in even more shock!

♠️ You, who is one of the strongest magic-users in the Heartslabyul dorm, and by-far one of the strongest members of the Spelldrive team, seeing yourself in him made him appreciate you being around even more. If that was even possible

♠️ Whenever you notice he needs a break, you would spell out a short quiz of riddles to wind his mind down. For someone who many describe as a smokeaholic, you really were a smart and kind person when needing to be

♠️ By the way, whenever you get angry, he most likely does. You are far less expressive with emotions than the first-year, but when someone sees you and Deuce angry, they get scared

[karniss-bg3]

The Tragedy of Faith

So between tumblr and twitter I've read various takes on Kar'niss and what draws people to him. For some it's the monster fucking appeal, for others it's the desire to fix a clearly broken individual. There are in-betweens and of course this is subjective and depends on the person. Act 2 spoilers ahead. Where my personal interest comes from is how good Larian communicated the tragedy of faith and what a cult can do to a person. Kar'niss is a creature that has been broken by not one God, but two. Lolth broke him physically, the Absolute broke him mentally. His entire identity has been lost to a deity to the point he raises her in his speech. Referring to her as "Majesty" and "Queen", two terms you don't really hear anyone else address her as, he has elevated her to his final savior and leader. He also often refers to himself as "we" and "us", cementing him as part of the hive mind rather than holding any individuality of his own. When he does refer to himself as "I", it's mostly to show further loyalty to the Absolute, to maintain a position of importance in his fractured mind. Cults are notorious for targeting the most vulnerable in society as they are the easiest to mold and manipulate to their doctrine. The fact that goblins are one of the main races that fall to the Absolute's influence is telling in that regard, as they are often dismissed by the other races. Kar'niss was ripe for the picking, an easy target to lure into her arms. No doubt he was found shortly after Lolth twisted him into a drider and banished him, he didn't stand a chance.

Not even taking those elements into account, Kar'niss came from a society that is infamous for cruelty and violence, especially toward males of their species. Drow greatest hits include, but are not limited to: -Killing their young if they are not aesthetically pleasing enough. In other words, ugly. -Sacrificing every third born son to Lolth.

-If a male finds the favor of two competing females, it often doesn't end well for the male. The rival woman will kill the male and chuck his dead body into his opponents bedchambers, just for the sake of being petty.

-Love and emotions of any sort are in short supply, if not outright unseen as a general rule. The nature of drow to backstab and seek to rise in the ranks makes it near impossible to be anything other than fierce and domineering.

With these things in mind, it's easy to assume that Kar'niss had a turbulent upbringing and likely suffered untold abuse from many around him. It's not to say that good or reasonable drow don't exist, it's just not commonplace in a Lolthite society. Unfortunately, the game doesn't give us a great deal to go on as far as his past. What little he reveals only happens after he's dead, and even then its really a cliffs notes version. What we do know is that his devotion is intense and unwavering. He's willing to die for the Absolute because in his mind the Absolute are the only ones who care about him. We even see fellow followers talk down to him, dismiss him, and verbally eye-roll the guy. To them, his fanaticism is over the top and they follow the same God he does.

All told, this leads me to the conclusion that Kar'niss has never, or rarely, known true compassion in his entire life. He's been used as a puppet for one deity or another, and likely mocked or cast aside even when he did everything right. It doesn't surprise me that there are folks who desire a romance option, or barring that a side venture to break him free of the Absolute's hold. We don't know if Kar'niss did terrible things in his past, or where his moral compass sits as his entire personality revolves around God. But I'd love to know, and I crave more background on him in one form or another.

I've spent too much time thinking about different paths that could happen in-game. I also understand it's incredibly unlikely he'll ever become a companion. The sheer amount of time and resources needed to give a character a satisfying arc is likely more than Larian can do with other constraints, but maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. So Kar'niss lovers, platonic, romantic, or everything in-between...I gotchu fam. We stan the spooder bby. Someone get that man a blanket and a nice mug of hot cocoa. And a cult de-programming kit, one of those would be good.

[dragon-toad]

HOT TAKE : Makarov was a bad father (and a bad grandfather)

I'm expecting a big wave of hate with this one... BUT LET ME EXPLAIN

We can dive into the generational trauma theory : we know Yuri has been profoundly hurt by his wife's death (giving birth to Makarov) and this is a thing we should consider. In most cases, people live with the burden of the death of their partner until they die, which could have been Yuri's case. And the idea that somehow his wife died for his son... Well, angst potential.

Now : death of a loved one + wife who dies giving birth to his son = difficult father-son relationship

And even if Yuri didn't do it intentionally, there could have been a distance between the father and the son, and it has repercussions on the futur.

So yes, it maybe happened completely differently, but let's consider this hypothesis to understand what comes after :

Makarov was raised in the guild, where everybody is friendly. The only thing is his daddy issues. He ends up considering the guild more important, so the thing to cherish and protect at all cost.

Everything is fine.

Then, Ivan enters the game.

I know it's very fun to have an antagonist in the family of the master, the man presented as the most loving, a father for all the lost children, etc. BUT maybe we can go a little deeper.

We sometimes have this idea that some characters are born meaner than others, it allows us to ignore psychology and sociology, but it's not fun.

We can suppose Ivan was born in the guild, like Makarov and certainly Laxus. And as it's shown every single second that Fairy Tail is a very healthy environment, a "big family", so even if Ivan was a bit twisted, he would not have been so mean with his colleagues, provoking his exclusion, and he would have not tried to destroy the guild.

Unless he have daddy issues too. Let's consider : Makarov has a son and the mother is nowhere to be found. Doesn't it remind you of something ? But Makarov know his relationship with his father wasn't awesome, so he tries differently.

So two possibilities can be explored :

1- Ivan is a spoiled child. Being the master's son allows him to do reprehensible things and not be punished after, or not too much, and Makarov wants to give him all the freedom he didn't have. Until he almost kills another member of the guild. Then Makarov is forced to expel him. He takes away the thing that gave Ivan an almost unlimited power, and he doesn't like it. So if he can't have Fairy Tail, nobody will.

2- Makarov prefers the guild to his son. He doesn't know how to raise a kid, what if he screws like his father ? (Spoiler : he does) So when Precht makes him the new master, he puts all his soul into his job. But Ivan wants a father. So he does everything to make his father notice him, to make his father proud. It leads him to dark places, and thus, being strong = being good enough. Unfortunately, it doesn't work, because he ends up expelled. So, by pure rage, he decides to destroy the thing his father loved more than him. (It's my favorite version)

In both cases, Ivan manipulates his son into believing that being strong is the only way for him to be respected, to be seen.

Which leads us to the Laxus part (finally)

It's canon that Ivan pushed his son to be the strongest (to the point he put a lacrima in his body) so yeah, Laxus has daddy issues. But he has gampa issues too.

Let's continue with the theory we built on this post : Makarov doesn't really raise his son, why would he raise his grandson ?

But we see Makarov taking care of a very young Laxus. Thus, Laxus once loved his grandfather. Except Ivan didn't. So we can suppose he decided to keep his son under his control by manipulating him into thinking he has to be the strongest.

Then Ivan was banned.

The problem with an abusive relationship is that the victim thinks the abuser is on the right, which explains why Laxus was all but happy his father was expelled. But he stayed in Fairy Tail, because despite everything, Fairy Tail is his home. But this home is controlled by the man who banned his father (his abuser)

Laxus becomes a rank-S mage, which means he's the strongest. He has all the rights to make Fairy Tail his home, not Makarov's.

Well yes, but no.

Because there's Mirajane, a prodigy so fucking strong she becomes a rank-S mage too. But Lisanna dies, and suddenly everybody loves Mirajane. She even becomes the right arm of Makarov, because she's too weak now to create problems now.

And there's Natsu and Gray, Makarov's little boys. They're noisy, annoying, but they have potential. They have the potential to become stronger than Laxus. And Makarov loves them.

But more important, because there's Erza, who is so strong, so kind, so nice... Who is his grandfather's favorite. The same grandfather who did nothing when Ivan imprisoned Laxus into a psychological jail and who banned Ivan for somebody else's weakness. And Laxus knows it : she is the future master of Fairy Tail. She will steal his home and make it even weaker.

So he has to take Fairy Tail now, even if his grandfather dies in the process. Better, it will make things easier !

But in the end, Laxus loves Fairy Tail. He loves the guild enough to not betray everybody by joining his father's guild.

Laxus broke the cycle. And I don't think it was thanks to Makarov. If Laxus broke the cycle, it's because despite everything, he has weirdos to stick with. The Raijinshuu are a safe place for Laxus, they are strong enough to be his friends colleagues, they don't call him "psychotic" when he tells them he wants the guild, and more important, they care for him.

Laxus broke the cycle thanks to people who cared for him. They even wanted to follow him when he was banned ! But he said no, because he care for them and he knows they will be better in Fairy Tail.

Now, let's consider : travelling must have felt like therapy for Laxus : he's not part of Fairy Tail anymore and he's sure he will never have the possibility to come back, but he will not join his father because he doesn't want to put his friends in danger. So he has to do something by himself, not under the influence of his father. And I believe this emancipation was beneficial for him. He could learn what it means to be himself, not Ivan's son or Makarov's grandson.

I don't think he fully forgave Makarov for his inaction and for loving other more than him, and he's not completely out of Ivan's philosophy, those things need time, but he escaped the cycle.

[icantdothistodaybruh]

oh, are you familiar with the BoM side story? where arthur dreams of different characters in different fairy tales? i’ve become so! obsessed! with the snow queen versions of sebaciel. ciels outfit is so pretty on him!! but i love a ciel that left everything behind to stay with sebastian.. and sebastian, he’s been so lonely for so long that when he gets a pretty boy he can’t let him go. when someone tries to save him they not only get a “no” but get forcefully snow-blasted right out the door. they understand each other because no one sees the beauty in desolation like they do… so of course they stay isolated in a castle together.

there’s the panel where sebastian’s wrapping his coat around ciels whole body… sebastian acting so smugly to ciels rescuers… the line where ciel says he belongs to the devil… i could live here forever… please consider this cold angle of sebaciel

I AM! AND IT'S ONE OF MY FAVE EXTRAS OUT THERE!!

The implication that the whole dream was of Sebastian's doing (which he is very capable of judging by GWA) brings out such an interesting twist to it - we can see a glimpse of Sebastian's actual opinion on other characters! But I'm of course going to talk a little about Ciel solely for today hehe

I might be wrong since I only have ru and eng translation at hand, but the way Ciel talks about his heart being frozen and eye belonging to the devil makes me think of these acts as essentially same thing, especially given that he "adapted beautifully to the world of Ice" by Sebastian's words. I mean that his heart being frozen doesn't equal to death or inability to feel, but rather just that, adaptation and belonging.

Now I know it sounded far-fetched, but the reason It caught my attention in the first place was the mentioning of the heart at all. It's a dream made by Sebastian, the 'emotionless' and 'unfeeling' demon, with clear analogy to the contract built on power, revenge, and hunger for one's soul, or at least that is how it always was portrayed before. So why would his made up dream-Ciel suddenly bring a heart into equation?

You should've seen my face when I got to the chapter were Elizabeth escapes to rCiel. Call me delulu but it suddenly made so much sense when Sebastian started talking how "human hearts are mysterious, complex things" and "no matter if you are demon or god it is truly and utterly impossible to shackle another's heart." Before that I wouldn't even think he'd have any opinion on the matters of the heart, let alone it be a stated fact to him that he can't have it in a way he can own souls or bodies.

And so that man, in his made up dream, with a made up Ciel, made that Ciel say that not only his soul (eye) belongs to the devil, but heart too. Knowing for a fact it can't belong to him in reality. I'm speechless.

Also when I got your ask yesterday I thought I should make a fanart or a redraw of that scene, and once again, you should've seen my face when I found the page:

and if you don't know why I was so surprised I'll gladly explain with two more pics:

My head exploded.

Three pieces. Representing their change of masks and roles. Yet each is the same in it's core. And one of them is character's fantasy while other two his reality. I'm so done with this show.

...could it be that Arthur's dream made by Sebastian is yet another lie becoming truth?...

[yuri-is-online]

hi, i'm not the same anon but i would like to hear more about the fyuuture kid au 👉👈 especially about riddle!!

hello new friend, you picked someone who is having a real bad time in this au (ﾟωﾟ；)

I am going to give some general information about Yutu and then move on to some Riddle specific stuff.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, general au explanation can be found here, and the posts can be found on my masterlist under the series section.

General Yutu Facts

"Yutu" is supposed to be a fake name fyuuture kid is using to help hide his identity, but I am open to suggestions on that. Originally he didn't remember his name and Crowley picked it out for him, but I like the idea of "Yuu two" being a nickname he had in both your world and Twisted Wonderland and picked as his alias to honor his parent. Yutu really admires Yuu, he has nothing but empathy for your situation and respect for your strength, and while he certainly fought with you from time to time (some Yutus more than others) he wants to be like you.

That desire was very much cemented when he heard about how you won against the overblot phantoms. Yutu's unique magic changes depending on who his dad is, but all Yutus have extensive experience in combat magic and have fought a lot of monsters. Including overblot phantoms, same as you. His fights didn't go as well though... he's extremely afraid of the Great Seven's phantoms and has regular nightmares about them.

Back to the names... I didn't have names picked out for every version of Yutu, but Riddle does happen to have been one of them. His real name was supposed to be March, yes like the march hare but if I'm honest I was more thinking about the saying "in like a lion out a lamb" because I thought that described Riddle's temper pretty well.

The other ones I picked out I still like are Merrin (I swear I found it on a list of mountain themed names??? But it means sea born or pearl of the sea), Laurie (yes like little women, his unique magic was supposed to something to do with painting), and Roland (I have an unironic love for French peerage ok please do not judge me).

Some of the Yutus were meant to have older siblings who stayed behind in Twisted Wonderland (Riddle! Yutu wasn't one of them), but that was very much an idea I didn't develop extensively since it was more left over from Fire Emblem Awakening. I wanted there to be a Lucina type older sibling character who was very protective of Yutu and wanting a future where he gets to stay in Twisted Wonderland and they get to be a happy family. But again I didn't cook this idea extensively so idk how to feel about keeping it as a part of the ayuu.

Anyway on to the Riddle specific stuff ¬‿¬

So that bit about Yutu's real name coming from a description from Riddle's temper: I like to leave what Yutu looks like up to the reader, but Riddle! Yutu if nothing else took two things from his father, his (lack of) height and his temper. His facial expressions when pouting and angry are eerily similar, and they both have a strong affinity for fire. Riddle! Yutu is a lot like Riddle Tsum now that I think about it? Very high energy and likes to jump around all over the place, but determined to be at least somewhat dignified.

Since traveling back in time Yutu has been "studying" with Grim to try and get his flames hot enough to burn blue to flex on his dad and to bond with the monster. He usually just ends up watching him though, the mental image he had of Grim vs what the little guy is actually like is really wild.

Back to the temper, unlike Riddle Yutu wasn't home schooled so he got into a lot of trouble for losing it on other students. He had a chip on his shoulder about not having a dad, having a parent with amnesia, and especially about being short oh god he is so spiteful about that. He got sent to detention a lot, and shamefully it made him fight with Yuu a lot too. Not that he hates Yuu, he was just very emotional and not always the easiest to deal with. His last few interactions with Yuu before they died were very strained, and he is filled with remorse for a bunch of stupid things he said.

When he gets to the point where he has to admit to Yuu who he is there is going to be a lot of crying and begging for forgiveness. He was a stupid, angry kid who just wanted to know who he was and didn't feel like he belonged lashing out at the one person who he knew wanting nothing but the best for him. He doesn't really feel the need to ask for forgiveness from his dad (yet)... by the time Yutu was isekaid into Twisted Wonderland Riddle had been corrupted by his overblot phantom and was wrecking the Queendom of Roses so he never really met the real Riddle until he traveled back in time.

He also got compared to Riddle a lot, Yutu isn't stupid by any means but because of all that time spent in detention he is a bit behind on the fundamentals. Not to mention all Riddle has done up to this point is practice magic and Yutu only just found out it was real so of course there was going to be a skill gap! But still, he's Riddle's son and Riddle was a very memorable student for Crewel, so Yutu was guaranteed to hear some comparisons. It didn't help the daddy issues though...

Speaking of Yutu's time at NRC, he did get placed into Heartslabyul by the Dark Mirror and he does know all 810 rules of the Queen's rules. He's not as obsessed with them as Riddle is but he still knows what he's supposed to do and tries to be on his best behavior. He was not interested in being dorm leader and wanted to instead focus on the things Yuu always encouraged him to do, like controlling his temper and getting good grades.

I sort of like the idea of his unique magic being the ability to grow/shrink because in the book Rule 42 of the Queen of Hearts says “All persons more than a mile high to leave the court" and I like the idea of him trying to use his spell to get out of arguments with his dad.

Riddle has no idea that Yutu hates him... at first. This is partially because Yutu is usually very polite to him and partially because he is utterly unaware of how much people are afraid of him in general, but he starts to pick up on it when he tries to interact with Yuu. He wants to have a private tea party with just Yuu? Well Yutu immediately starts acting like this is somehow scandalous and calls him out on his feelings in front of the prefect and he wants to lose it so badly- Yuu agrees anyway and Riddle immediately gets unreasonably smug while Yutu pouts. Take that sucker! He's going to study with the prefect all alone and since it's Riddle you know you really are just going to study.

I don't think Riddle really considers Yutu a rival for Yuu's romantic attention, partially because he isn't fully aware of what it is he feels for Yuu, but even if he was. Riddle knows that Yuu sees Yutu as someone under their care similar to Grim, they actually talk to him about it quite a bit and he has no issue with that. He is actually sort of grateful for Yutu's existence since it has given him an excuse to talk to Yuu more and let them know how he respects them.

Yutu's academic struggles are something that actually bring him closer to Riddle ironically enough. Riddle has created study guides for Yuu and Grim before, he has no problem doing that for Yutu and inviting himself over to give instructions.

"Did you not get a lot of help from your parents?" Riddle sounds nervous, and he should it's an invasive question to ask. Yutu wants to be angry, but when he looks at Riddle, he just feels sad. "Not that it is any of my business really but well. I just noticed you never really talk about them, even to Yuu."

"My dad wasn't really around." He forces himself to look at Riddle when he says it, but it doesn't make him feel any better. If anything it makes Yutu feel worse, he knows about as much about Riddle as Riddle knows about him now that he's forced to look at him. "And my other parent... they tried really hard. But I wasn't always willing to accept it."

"I can't say I understand what that would be like." Riddle looks like he is trying to and that should be what he wants, right? "My mother home schooled me so it's hard for me to understand that someone's parents wouldn't be a constant figure in their schooling."

"You were home schooled?"

Yutu didn't know anything about his grandmother, it didn't even really occur to him that he had one and once he learns about her... well it certainly makes things make a lot more sense. He doesn't want to meet her, but he is curious about what she thought about his parent. What would she think about him? Does he even want to know?

My last concrete thought is that Yutu doesn't really get the whole horse girl thing. He is sort of afraid of horses actually, but I can see him maybe wanting to ride with Riddle once their relationship gets a bit better just to do something with him.

I like the idea of Riddle! Yutu being very into baseball for some reason and there's no way he's going to convince his dad to do that with him ha. Well not in this timeline anyway, I can see good timeline Riddle doing a bunch of research on baseball so he can talk to his kid about it. And showing up to all his matches to scream in support of his kid instead of at the coaches. He is breaking the cycle we love to see it.

[zgvlt]

sending your crush a survey form hcs first years (and idia shroud) x reader (separate) *ortho's is platonic, with reader having a crush on idia instead

author's note: insp. by that youtube trend! i haven't seen another writer do this for twst, but regardless this will be my own rendition and take on the trope! even though the gen concept is the same, each character has a different twist with theirs

general tags: gender neutral reader, fluff + attempt at humor, sfw, time skip after NRC graduation, not beta read, mix of text and images (for images, image desc/text version available for screen readers and those who prefer to read text over image)

wc: approx. 6k+ total (around 1k per character)

character: ACE TRAPPOLA premise/trope: sending the survey form to Ace, who's already your signfinicant other

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

The initial reaction is nothing out of the norm for Ace. Sure he doesn't seenzone or ghost you, but his quick replies consist of him typing variations of "LMAO" and "ARE YOU FRFR", as well as laugh reacting the message itself.

He also asks you if you're planning on becoming an influencer or streamer or something along those lines, why else would you want to make and send him a form like that?

After a few minutes, though, he'll start trying to call you, mentioning/pinging you to make sure you answer. If you're able to ignore his calls, he's going to make sure your phone is unusable with the amount of notifications he sends your way. Hey, maybe you'll even click on it and answer the call on accident!

Ace, as your significant other, probably knows your schedule so he's fairly confident that you have nothing else better to do than to answer him (he wouldn't be spamming you otherwise), so he's smug and not surprised that you eventually answer him. The first thing he tells you on call is,

"You're so lame, we're literally dating?! By the way... did you actually send this to other people?"

Makes fun of you if you say he's the only one but he also thinks it's sweet, and he says as much in a tone that sort of comes off as mocking at first, but it's clear after the first few seconds that he does think it's cute.

He's mature enough if you say you've sent it to other people. Rather than jealous, he's smug at the fact that he's the last crush, he's the end game.

Tells you to stay on the call as he answers the form. You'll notice that even as he's making fun of you with each question, the things he says versus the things he types differ from one another.

(And even if it didn't, you've become an expert at figuring out how to read Ace Trappola)

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: did you know that i liked you (don't lie) A: wtf did you downgrade me?? did i go from L O V E to L I K E...? damn 💔💔

Q: if yes, how did you find out A: because you were ALWAYS clinging onto me in our NRC days 🙄 like come on could you not leave me alone for a little bit damn you really had to spend every minute with me and then after graduation ur still all over me tsk tsk also you were all heart eyes whenever you looked at me I'm not dense!

Q: okay so did you ever like ME A: the way i know you’re asking this so you can get some new material to make fun of me with. who did you get that bad attitude from huh 🤔 anyway unfortunately i did, and because i know you’re going to try to punt me for that i’m jOKING we’re literally together of course i did and do

Q: what do you like about me A: [ticks the boxes: everything, about, me, other] wowww maybe i do hype you up too much what is this behavior

Q: how did we meet A: you were in trouble and i saved your butt no this is not historical revisionism

Q: most memorable moment(s) w/ me A: to get the sap out, every moment with you is memorable awwww im so sweet, anyway now that i said that - everytime we got in trouble w/ trein or crewel bc we kept passing notes - group bonding activity by making fun with deuce (with love!) - the time we got caught sneaking out by riddle, trey, AND cater like triple kill?? - i guessss our first date (see point three) (theyve NEVER let me forget it bruh)

Q: is there something you dont like abt me A: well if were being serious there are just like there are things you find annoying about me but weve talked about it before and were working through it anyway serious talk over!! if there are other replies to this let me know if i have to fight someone lol (or you can do it yourself and i can watch) (or just prank them or smth i support your rights AND your wrongs)

Q: answer this only if ur my s/o: ily A: why are you being so cute today should i be worried? KIDDING i love you too

Q: ty for answering any last words? A: its been a while since weve gone out, we should go on a date again tonight

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Once Ace submits the form, he tells you to read his answers already, almost as if he's expecting you to speedrun through them.

You're totally free to make fun of him back for the things he typed out—he can try to complain or whine, even retaliate whatever you say, but the banter and playful arguing makes things more fun for him. He likes any and all of your attention, you know it as well as he does.

If you sent the form to anyone else, he asks if he can read their answers as well. He won't budge if you'd rather keep it private because the knowledge of him being the final choice bloats his head just fine, but wouldn't it be more fun to laugh at those who, to quote, "fumbled the bag" when it came to you?

(And, well, you can listen to him agree with the nice things they wrote about you, because he knows first hand just how lovable you really are and how lucky he really is to be with you)

When you get to the last question, he's grinning to himself—even without the camera turned on, you can just hear him smiling, like he knows that you're rolling your eyes.

Whatever, you can both share your sweet nothings in person, when the both of you get somewhere more comfortable to be more vulnerable with each other.

"So, you up for a date some time tonight? My treat!"

character: DEUCE SPADE premise/trope: Deuce getting the form from someone he's highly admired for years

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

He doesn't answer you for a few minutes, even though it's considered rude to just view your message. You can see that he's viewed your message, for sevens' sake! Still, you send one final message telling him to take his time with answering—Deuce was probably panicking or overreacting behind the screens.

He was. He gets the message while he's at work, and he has to try very hard to swallow his shout—it would be bad if he alarmed his co-workers, after all!

Tries to answer—both your message and your form—during his break, but decides that he needs far more time than his work break would allow, so he tries to focus on his job until he can go home.

His hands hover over the keyboard, and he reads the things he types out over and over again just to make sure he doesn't have any typos. If he's made you wait this long, he'll at least try to have good spelling!

DEUCE : are you sure you sent this to the right person?

Deuce has a bit of a hard time grasping that you could even have a crush on him—he's harbored a huge crush on you for YEARS, an admiration turned romantic affection that he's been, unfortunately, made fun of for his whole NRC career.

(His friends made fun of him for being such a coward, but confessing seemed so out of the question years ago! He had to focus on becoming an honor student, and you were just so...???)

When you reassure him that, yes, you did mean to send it to him, he replies that he'll answer it A.S.A.P! The sudden vigor gives you whiplash, and out of fear of formality you have to tell him that he can be as honest as possible.

It takes Deuce an hour at least to send in his answers, but when you look them over later you'll find that although he's trying to be polite and is clearly holding back (it's alright, you can have a proper talk about this some other time), his answers are genuine and his sweetness shines through.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: How do we know each other? A: We both went to NRC and we shared a few classes, then we became friends

Q: Before this, did you know I liked you? A: No?! Not at all?! I mean I knew you liked me as a friend, because we were friends, but like-like? Like as a crush? I mean Ace and a few other people teased me about you liking me back then but I always thought it was a joke because you know? You’re you???

Q: Did you ever like me back? A: I didn’t think I would say it this way but yes?! Of course? I would be blind not to!

Q: If yes, how long did the crush last? A: [ticks the boxes: 3+ years, other] Um am I supposed to answer 3+ if it's ongoing...?

Q: If you liked me, why didn't you tell me? A: There were two main reasons… first I never thought I could have a chance with you, I didn’t want to ruin anything, second is just that I wanted to grow first into a better student and person, so I didn’t think I was ready to date either.

Q: What do you like most about me? A: Do I say just one thing…? It’s kinda hard to choose, and this is super embarrassing, you know. I guess I like that you never look down on me for my past and the fact that I’m still… not very cool. Even though you tell me I am. I like that you try to help me in whatever way you can, and I like that you’re always one of the first people to defend me when a bunch of jerks feel like causing trouble. And when you ran into my mom that one time, you told her really nice things about me (she told me even though you told her not to, sorry!) and I ended up liking you even more… I just find you reliable and respectable and I’ve always wanted to catch up to you since you were (are?) so out of my league?

Q: Could you imagine yourself dating me? A: Absolutely

Q: Thank you for answering! Sorry if this is awkward. Anything else to add? A: Wait can you tell me how long you liked me for? And a few other things I kind of want an explanation :’) Should I send a form too or do I just DM you?

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Aside from wanting some explanations (as much as you're willing to give), honestly, Deuce is a little distraught (okay, more than a little—the crush had never really disappeared even after graduation). He genuinely thinks he lost his chance with you. After all, the title was in the past tense!

No he didn't lose his chance, but he's gearing himself up to just accept that you saw something good in him to the point that you once liked him—that, in a way, gives him a sense of happiness.

Maybe you're a mind reader, or maybe you're just good at detecting Deuce's tone from his answers and later messages, because you let him know that you're very much still into him, and if he still is then maybe he's willing to give the both of you a shot...?

At that point Deuce is very much glad to be at home because he's grinning ear to ear, face flushed like the color of his alma mater dorm. He feels like those teenage girls from those movies he watched with his mom on occasion—the ones who got butterflies in their stomach.

It's the fastest he texts back yet, sending you a stream of messages that all form the answer of a resounding YES.

Yes, he does call his mom later that night and tells her that he has a date coming soon. His mom always did wonder if he'd ever find a significant other amidst his busy career.

(His mother teases him a bit, but as embarrassing as it is to be teased like he was still a high schooler, his happiness overthrows it)

DEUCE : HUH?? OF COURSE I WANT TO GO ON A DTEA WITH YOU?? DEUCE : *DATE sorry I got excited. obviously, duh.., wow i'm seriously still not very cool, huh DEUCE : so... no pressure but when are you free to meet up?

character: JACK HOWL premise/trope: two best friends with very obvious mutual pining but have never said a word about their feelings, and now they live far apart. you send the form to Jack for closure (or resolution)

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

He wants to ask if this is a joke (even though the form title said it was not a prank), but refrains from sending in what he initially typed out. If you were serious, and he thinks you are, then it wouldn't be right for him to doubt or question your feelings.

It's going to take him a while to actually fully process the form title and form description alone, but he lets you know that he's not ignoring you or anything, he just needs a hot minute

JACK : Don't worry, I'm not ignoring you, but I need a moment. By the way, do you really want me to answer the form? Or do you want to just... call.

For one reason or another, perhaps you wanting to gauge his own interest in you, or perhaps you needing some time before properly having that conversation with him, you request he answer the form first.

Jack doesn't exactly like it when people beat around the bush, but he knows it must have taken a lot of courage out of you to confess to him. Braver than him, really, who never had the strength to let you know what he felt for you, feelings that were apparently required all this time.

Later, Jack would laugh to himself (or with you) at how silly the both of you were, wallowing in angst over unrequited love that was never actually unrequited.

A part of Jack does wish he knew earlier, maybe the both of you could have been dating all this time, but perhaps this was the timing that was meant for him and you... not that Jack knew anything about destiny or fate.

His answers are serious, but not cold, not completely. Warmth lingers, mostly from you imagining him reading the words to you, imagining his expressions as he does so.

His answers are also quite honest, although you can picture him getting somewhat embarrassed over how vulnerable he's being. Maybe typing things out instead of immediately saying them verbally helps him be less shy and awkward about this, too.

And when you read them, you can easily identify his fondness and affection for you, the one he's always possessed. Really, it's a wonder that it took him spelling out his feelings for you to realize how much he adores you.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: did u ever realize i more than liked you? A: There were a few times where I really thought you might have liked me back, mostly by watching your body language, or the things my seniors (Leona and Ruggie) pointed out, but the “signs” felt so natural that I just pushed it aside.

Q: did u ever have feelings for me too? A: Let me say something first: why are you immediately assuming that I don’t have the same feelings for you? Like you’re expecting me to reject you? Really, you’re so… anyway. For the record, it’s not “did”, it’s “do”, I do have feelings for you, since we were students in NRC. That hasn’t changed even after we left and went our separate ways. And I don’t want to assume, and since I checked the other questions and you didn’t ask… I’ve probably liked you for just as long. Look, I know I’m actually a lot more dense than I thought I would be, but I didn’t think you would be, too.

Q: did you ever want to date me? A: I did, and I still do.

Q: if i said i still have feelings for you, and that i miss you, how would you feel? A: I would say I’m the same, and that I wish we lived nearer each other so I could see you right now, and tell you these things in person instead of a form.

Q: jack when’s ur next vacation/free day :( A: No vacation until next month, but I can free up my Sat-Sun if you want?

Q: what things do you like about me A: Everything? Is that bad to say? Even though I tried to push you aw[a]y at first, you still tried to be my friend, and then we got closer and closer. You appreciate my space, but you also keep me company. I’m used to being alone, but I’m glad that I wasn’t because you were always around. I think it would be easier to say what I don’t like about you, it’ll take less time.

Q: umm ive been asking so much, do u have any questions for me? A: A few, though I can ask the rest later 1) Is there a certain type of place you would want to visit any time soon? 2) Is there anything you want from my hometown? 3) Just making sure, you’re still single, right? 4) Do you really want to stop liking me?

Q: jackkk i really miss you :((( huhuhu A: i miss you too, more than i let you know. im sorry i rarely tell you that

Q: sorry im a mess, do u wanna add smth A: please call me when you’re done reading this (or when you can)

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

It's difficult for Jack to proceed with the rest of his day, especially when you tell him you're going to read his response, when you haven't called him yet.

Thankfully you don't make him wait for too long, although Jack was willing to wait if you had other urgent matters to attend to, or if you just needed more time to compose your thoughts.

Once in call, Jack takes the initiative to steer the conversation to the topic at hand—your feelings for him, his feelings for you, and what that meant for your relationship going forward.

The both of you lived quite a ways apart, and while that wasn't necessarily ideal (Jack desperately wanted to see you and hold you in his arms right now), he was sure he had the ability to make it work with you, as long as you were willing to do the same.

Weekend trips to see each other, perhaps moving closer to each other and moving in together in the future, those weren't out of the question.

There were certain topics that could always be decided on later, and he lets you know as much; he just needed to call you now so he could tell you what he's always wanted to for years.

"Hey, don't get over me just yet, not when I've been wanting to see you again."

character: EPEL FELMIER premise/trope: you have been flirting with Epel for years, even though the two of you are merely (unfortunately for you AND him) best friends. you send the form for fun, and get the retaliation you very well deserve

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

Seconds after sending the form, you're immediately laughing it off, launching excuses and reasons as to why you sent one (and made a form to begin with). In fact, even before you sent the link, you were already building it up to be "just another one of your flirtations" instead of what it really is

Epel loves you, really (and wow did it take him a while... and a whole bunch of people pointing out his feelings to actually realize it wasn't just the friendly kind of love), but he's very tired of... whatever was going on with the both of you

It's cute when you flirt with him to be honest, even though it's embarrassing and downright flustering more than half the time (probably the thing stopping him from ever trying to do the same unto you), but it always felt... nice. Even if he did lose his shit one too many times.

It'd feel even better if the both of you were actually dating, though

He doesn't think you've been flirting with him as a joke or anything, he'd definitely would've put a stop to it otherwise, but he still wants his feelings to be taken more seriously, and for you to consider that he is very capable of liking you back, and for you to actually give him a say

Well, this form would be a good chance for that, right?

His voice message is enough to make you nervous, the incoherent keyboard smash you sent right after is proof of it

"Hehe, just give me a few minutes, I'mma answer it properly!"

Epel tries to be smooth but his answers have some awkwardness to them, clearly attempting to emulate you and how you enjoy talking to him, but the attempts at flirting are not lost on you.

Still, you can just tell that it isn't just payback—he's very serious about the things he's writing, even with the quips and joking responses to your questions here and there.

It's his sheer honesty though, the way he writes like he just spills his feelings for you all over the keyboard without regard for any proper form, that ends up the most romantic and impactful.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: hypotheticallyyyy, would u like me back A: Why would you need hypotheticals when I DO like you back? (Also, didn't you say you "hypothetically" loved me? Why is it "like" now?)

Q: *shakes 8ball* would u date me if ever A: The following is ticked: - signs point to yes - it is decidedly so - without a doubt - yes - definitely - outlook good - most likely - other: My sources (my heart) says yes

Q: so, did u know ur the apple of my eye A: You're so silly why am I even into vou..? Right, it's because l'm apple-solutely a fool for you.

Q: epel why are u still here TT A: WellI, if you want me to answer this seriously, it's because I'm getting impatient. I like/love you, you feel the same, we kind of act like we're dating half the time… actually a lot of people already think we're meant to be, so why aren't we dating yet? it's driving me crazy honestly, sometimes i think i'll just kiss you to shut you up whenever you think up some lame pickup line or when you want to hold my hand

Q: when'd ya realize u LOVED me <3- delulu A: Vil pointed out that I didn't bite your head off when you called me cute

Q: whats ur favorite moment with me <3 A: When we went to my hometown w/ the rest of our schoolmates, and then we separated from our group so I could give you a personal tour of my home. You joked that you would get lost and that we were on a date so you needed me to hold your hand, maybe u did want to hold hands but I also knew your hands were cold be SOMEONE forgot their gloves. We held hands the whole tour, and be people recognize me everyone assumed we were dating… but you didn't care if people thought (realized) you loved me, as long I never found out.. and because I was dense, I didn't until I recalled that day again

Q: not to fish for compliments BUT i will. list EVERTHING you like about me <3 A: 1) everything ;) INCLUDING your flirting, believe it or not 2) the way you can tease me and poke fun at me w/o belittling me 3) when you call me "cute" it makes me feel the same as when u call me "cool" 4) the way u enable+join me in, as our friends would say, ; "being chaotic good"

Q: what do you hate about me hehehe A: i hate that ur single and not dating me yet

Q: why did you finish this form epel A: because i want to raise apple trees and make jam with you in the future

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

The both of you have always been the type to joke with one another. It's not that neither of you take to having serious conversations, but it's always been about things you wanted to vent about, or Epel's thoughts on his appearance and femininity, or a few other things the both of you felt like bringing up. Never a love life.

(You have asked him if he was in a relationship a few times since graduation, likely to see if you had to steer clear and fully give up on him. He's guilty to asking the same questions.)

For someone who flirted with him a lot, you never brought it up seriously before. Not since the incident with the ghost bride.

Of course, he knows he could have stepped up much earlier, that the both of you could have been dating even back in NRC, but perhaps he wanted to wait (until he eventually became impatient), or he needed reassurance or a sign.

Epel's not very sure, and he doesn't think there's one definite reason, but that's besides the point. He finally got to tell you his feelings, and even though you've more than hinted that you feel the same, he wants to hear it from you this time, without you taking it back or pushing it as a joke it never was.

He has his moments of insecurity, too many to count especially in the past, but when he rings you on the phone and you pick up immediately, he's full of confidence, grinning in anticipation of what's to come.

"So, if I said I loved you, too, what would'ya think about it?"

character: SEBEK ZIGVOLT premise/trope: pretending the form you're making him answer is a regular survey you need participants for

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

If asked, you pretended it was a requisite you desperately needed participants for because Sebek would definitely take some time off his ever busy schedule to help a friend out. He gets it, getting participants is difficult! And because he's such a good friend, obviously he'll take some time out of his day to answer your survey!

Asks if he should send the form to Malleus and Lilia too but you absolutely refuse. You cite that they've exceeded the maximum age range, an answer Sebek readily accepts. An age range, how diligent of you to put that into consideration!

You can expect him to answer your form as soon as he's able to, and he tells you as much!

SEBEK : What an odd research topic. I never knew this was one of your interests! Still, I applaud you for your dedication and for your interest in studying fae; I shall aid you in your study! And if you have anything more to ask, feel free to call me any time!

He is... more than confused when he goes over the questions. It's always important to read all the questions before answering a test, so he employs the same tactic when he looks at the survey. He's not sure if he regrets it, but his throat certainly hates him for it—choking on nothing but his own spit.

His instincts tell him to message you IMMEDIATELY, face flushed at the idea of you playing a joke, making a fool out of him, but then... he stops himself from doing so.

You're clearly teasing him, yes, but all the same he's curious about your motives, about how you would react to his answers, about the answers you want to get out of him... or anyone else. Did you send the form to anyone else? What if you were getting answers from other people?

Oddly enough, what motivates him to answer instead of interrogating you about the form is the idea of someone else sending in the form before him. He can't have that! He had to show that he was your most reliable friend, the one you could count on if you really needed help.

Most of his answers are predictably... Sebek, loud even in text, honest in his confusion and feelings. Well, in the ones you allow him to type anyway. Probably your fault with your choice of questions. Still, it's enough to reassure you of his feelings, that you weren't just delusional and seeing things.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: When you see a picture of me, what emotions are you likely to feel? A: The following is ticked: - Happy, Glad, Pleased - Shy, Nervous, Hesitant - Ecstatic, Excited, Motivated - Delighted, Charmed, Exhilarated - other: You don’t have a study at ALL, do you? How brave to fool me like this!

Q: What traits do you associate with me? A: The following is ticked: - charming - bewitching - endearing - lovable - good-looking - fascinating - other: If you’re going to list everything, why even give the option for other?

Q: With this vague scale, how would you rate your feelings for me? A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

Q: How compatible do you think you are with me on a scale of… on a scale? A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

Q: If I asked you on a date, how likely are you to say yes A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

Q: How sure are you of the extent of your feelings for me A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

[ SECTION BREAK / NOT A QUESTION ] Not a question but based on my pre-existing research, it seems our feelings are quite similar! Just sharing!

Q: Hi, I will finally allow you to rant away now :) Thanks for answering this! A: This was not only the most ridiculous test/survey I have taken in my LIFE, but also the most DIFFICULT. The way I’m not allowed to explain myself, well, expect that I will most CERTAINLY be explaining myself at a later date. It has to be on a later date because WHY DID YOU PUT A CHRACTER LIMIT ON THI

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Are all humans so... odd and creative when it comes to expressing their feelings? Was this an expression of your feelings? Was this you wanting to court him, or perhaps asking him to court you?!

Sebek's thoughts are all over the place, but they bring out the feelings he thought had died down after graduation. Whatever charm you had placed on him had never worn off, remaining even when you weren't in his presence.

Before typing out his (very lengthy) paragraph of a text message, a paragraph more suited for an email, really, Sebek thinks of two things.

First, that Briar Valley needs better cell reception—a bunch of your text messages just came in, asking if he was answering the form, or if he was busy and got called on to do something, or if he was plain ignoring you.

(Well, by your texts, he at least knows he's the only one you've sent the form to. That gives him far too much pride than it should)

Second, that he wasn't in Briar Valley right now (the younger him never would have thought of thinking such a thing), or that you were in Briar Valley right now, so he could go up to see you and express his feelings most appropriately.

He supposes a text will do for now. A nicely worded text, if he can't send a letter (he could, but it would take too long). He can just... do something more romantic later.

SEBEK : DEAREST HUMAN! Even with our time apart, you are still as confounding and befuddling and CONFUSING as ever, you and your unusual ways of showing what I presume to be your affections for me, or at the very least signaling your interest, gathering information to analyze my own interest levels! Admittedly your attempt was, for the lack of a better way to phrase it, lacking good prose, unpoetic, and extremely weird, but nevertheless your feelings have reached me. Somehow, you have managed to render me speechless (for a few minutes), and you, in spite of your general lack of romanticism, continue to set my heart ablaze. With that said, even though I find your methods cowardly, I accept your advances, but I ask we hold off from pursuing anything until I can tell you in person. That is to say, I want for us to meet again.

[ BONUS ! ]

character: ORTHO SHROUD (& IDIA SHROUD) premise/trope: sending a form to your crush's younger brother, Ortho, mostly because you don't want to commit to confessing to Idia yet

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

He already knew you had feelings for his brother, but there's a different type of happiness in knowing you're willing to admit it (at least to him, if not yet Idia)

It's one thing to like his brother, and it's another thing to be able to say it. From his observations (of you, of others, and the games his brother played) and research (on online forums... and also the games his brother played), there was that probability that you would be ashamed of yourself for liking Idia, his wonderful but flawed brother. He's glad you don't seem to think that way.

That aside, he thinks you sending him the form is fun! He's more than willing to answer anything you want to know (whether it's just about him or if it's something to help you get closer to his brother)

Plus, he got called your BFF! :D

ORTHO : Your secret is safe with me! Don't worry q(≧▽≦q) My metaphorical lips are sealed!

When it comes to answering, he's straight to the point but cute, even when he says things that could come off as burns towards you or his brother. Most of all, it's very clear that he not only adores his brother, but that he cares for you, too.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: hi ortho! first of all, i missed youuu 💙 A: I missed you too! I haven’t seen you since graduation ＞︿＜

Q: so since i’m sure you know i like idia, when/how did you realize? A: I was walking with you to class one day when your heart rate increased! I was really scared that something had happened to you ::>_<:: I ran a few tests out of concern, even though you were confused about why I wanted to do that. Everything was normal when I checked it, but when I suggested my brother help investigate the anomaly your heart rate rose again!

Q: just making sure, do you think idia has a clue that i like him A: Oh, absolutely! He… just kidding! Not at all! I never told him, even though I wanted to sometimes, but even if I did I don’t think he would belive me! My brother is not dense, he gets flustered by you a lot, but I think he’s too in denial that it’s possible you like him!

Q: do you think idia likes me too A: That’s a secret! Please confess to my brother first, or wait for him to confess!

Q: its okay with u if i dated him, right? A: I approve! I like you very much o(^.^)o Me and Idia always have fun with you!

Q: serious question do you think idia would open to dating right now? A: Hmmm I think it’s better that you talk to him about it! I know the both of you can come to an agreement that you’ll both be happy with ( ˇ v ˇ )

Q: aside from the fact that you love your brother and that you like me, why do you think we’re good for one another? A: I have prepared multiple answers for this question! [ 1 ] Because you like him! [ 2 ] Because you like me, too! ヾ(•ω•`)o [ 3 ] Because you understand and accept Idia without forcing him to change. [ 4 ] Because you know when Idia wants space and when he wants to hang out with you. [ 5 ] Because you smile brightly around him and he smiles brightly around you. Idia is happier seeing you than seeing Gakemo live, or getting an SSR!

Q: do u have any tips for meee A: Just be yourself! ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ

Q: if i get rejected by idia, are you still down to be my little brother? hihi A: I don’t want to tell you the probabilities of anything, but you should have more faith in yourself! And of course! o((>ω< ))o

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

The chances are, either he gives you enough assurance to confess to Idia in the coming days/weeks, or he convinces you to wait it out when the time is right—dating sims usually had confession scenes at very specific and special locations, right? Maybe you had to wait for a sign.

Either way, it's hard not to believe you have a chance when Ortho tells you—not because of his godly skills (seriously, what kind of genius is Idia?) in analyzing data and making predictions based on probabilities, but because Ortho's the one who knows him best, who's always going to be there when he needs it.

How can you not trust him when he implies (implies, only so he won't take the chance from his brother to confess to you properly) that his brother might just have a crush on you, too?

After a while, the conversation divulges from Idia to simply catching up with Ortho, asking him how he's been doing, setting up a day where the both of you could play a few online games together (with and without Idia), but his sweet messages remain in your head all day.

ORTHO : Even though I want you to date my brother as soon as possible (please I promise the probability of him liking you back is much higher than you think!), I promise I won't interfere, so take your time! ORTHO : Even without dating him, I already see you as my other big sibling anyway \^o^/

masterlist | end notes

[ 1 ] made this in 2 days because i was just really tired from school and wanted a break, but wanted something a little less taxing brain power wise than a one-shot. i've had this idea in my head for a few months now so i thought i would finally write it out!

[ 2 ] figuring out how someone would type is a struggle, so i had to make guesses based on how they write the valentine letters + voice lines, then take some liberties based on their relationship dynamic with the reader + the tone of the premise

[ 3 ] epel: "because I want to raise apple trees and make jam with you in the future", referencing one his suitor suit (the groom outfit, i forgot what it's called in EN) voice lines

[ 4 ] speaking of epel, i asked for ideas basically on what dynamics people liked with him. unfortunately i couldn't employ EVERY idea, i mostly went with @ / syl-lithy 's with a dash of everyone elses. ig ill just have to use the other dynamics in some other work for epel 😌

[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU (Reader's Version) // Prev. / Chapter 2 / next.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader (You), Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, emetophobia, parental death (rip to your fake mom), descriptions of burning, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. Four years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because most days you feel like a shadow, some horrifically sad creature caught halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter. 

You can’t scrub the bitter smell of hospital from your memories, not even with denial. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise. 

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive? 

Maybe, the real question is how long will they want to? Chapter Summary: After an awkward encounter with Lydia Martin, Stiles realizes that his new acquaintance might be the perfect person to jumpstart his 15-year plan. You, on the other hand, aren't interested in discussing your ex-best friend; you're much more focused on the man who was attacked by the mysterious beast ravaging the town.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support so far. So many of y'all have been so sweet :') Comments and reblogs are love.

Monday came, and you’d forgotten about Stiles Stilinski and his sweatshirt. In all fairness, you almost forgot your essay too. Lack of sleep, maybe, or perhaps lack of Wellbutrin—you’d also forgotten if you’d taken your pills before you left for school.

You crinkled your nearly empty can of Red Bull a few times and twisted the tab in circles until it snapped off. Nervous habit. You flicked the tab into a trashcan and squeezed the can until it crumpled in on itself. Okay, you’d definitely forgotten to take your pills. However, on your list of things to forget, homework outranked antidepressants by several places, so your day wasn’t off to the worst possible start in the world. Dr. Lin always said that you should spend at least five minutes every morning changing your ‘self-talk’ to ‘gratitude, not negatude’—she also said that consistently taking your meds was imperative to your mental health, but one out of two wasn’t so bad. See. Positive thinking; you were killing it. 

It was, however, pretty damn difficult to put a positive spin on a bloodied school bus cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. 

You lingered on the outskirts of the swarm of teenagers gawking behind the barricade that a few deputies were fruitlessly attempting to enforce. The back door of the bus was crumpled in the middle, wrenched open, and barely clinging to life with a lone intact hinge. More concerning, was the blood smeared across the yellow paint and the bloody handprints pressed against the windows. You peered through the mass of shoulders in front of you and cupped your hand over your eyes. There were four large gouges in the door and tears in the vinyl seats—claws: you realized. They were claw marks. 

Baffling. The entire scene was, in all sincerity, baffling. 

Awful, you quickly corrected yourself. The carnage was awful, first and foremost. It was awful, horrific, and totally tragic…but it was also bizarre. Animals, wild or not, generally didn’t hunt on school grounds; that honor was reserved for creepy super-seniors and perverse volleyball coaches. You chewed on your bottom lip and stewed. A bear seemed most likely, given the battering the bus took, but Beacon Hills was a long way from Los Padres. Mountain lions and coyotes, on the other hand, often strolled into small-town suburbia to snack on the occasional unaccompanied support animal. Still, you doubted they had the strength or dexterity to rip a steel door off of its hinges. 

The first warning bell rang, and it was especially shrill while you were lost in your own head. You managed to not flinch with a herculean effort and pushed through the remaining voyeurs towards the front doors. Stuffing your airpods into your ears, you turned up the volume on your phone until the bass vibrated all thoughts of coyotes, cougars, and bears out of your mind. Oh my. 

Positive: Ellie Rowsell’s ethereal vocals demanded your full and undivided attention. 

Negative: Ellie Rowsell’s ethereal vocals demanded your full and undivided attention. 

You grabbed your chemistry notecards, a few highlighters, and a fat stack of books from your locker just as an overly-cologned jackass shoved his equally pungent friend straight into your crowded arms.

Positive: You hadn’t gotten the chance to organize your notes by unit number before they scattered all over the floor. 

Negative: They were still scattered all over the floor.

Biting back a few choice expletives, you crouched down and gathered your notecards into a messy heap. You stretched across the scuffed tile for your highlighters; one brushed past your fingertips and rolled into the pointed toe of a sleek brown leather boot. You glanced up, apology ready, but your tongue went cottony when you locked eyes with Lydia Martin.

Lydia Martin was many things to many people, but you supposed the general consensus would be that she was the apex predator—regardless of what the bloodbath outside might lead a person to believe. Most students were consenting prey. Enthusiastically consenting, in fact. You understood the impulse. Knowing she could destroy you, that was the thing that made Lydia so undeniably captivating.

Lydia was…sublime. That was the only word for it. She was the duality of fear and attraction. She defined indefinable beauty—because she wasn’t just beautiful (anybody could be beautiful), Lydia was fiercely beautiful and, in the same breath, the grace of girlhood. She was…she suckerpunched Jordan Aadams in the third grade for making fun of your eyes without lifting a single manicured finger; that was the closest you could come to explaining the phenomenon Lydia Martin left in her wake.

Lydia’s thick red curls spilled over her shoulders as she looked down at the obstacle in her path. The angry pinch in her brows softened briefly once she made eye-contact with you, but she quickly corrected her slip and schooled her face into a blank expression. Returning her attention to her friend, Lydia’s heels clicked against the floor as she stepped over your copy of Metamorphosis and continued on with her conversation like it hadn’t ever stopped. Like you were just a mirage or a distorted oil-slick reflection—like you were a ghost who just wouldn’t fucking die already. You watched her go, forgetting to blink, until they reached Lydia’s locker on the other side of the hall.

Before she got extensions, Lydia liked to wear her hair in a French braid. Before she discovered full-coverage concealer, her freckles were golden against the fairness of her cheeks. Before everything fell apart, she was your best friend. 

In the end, it wasn’t a terribly dramatic thing. There wasn’t a melodramatic scene or an explosive fight; sometimes, you wondered if that would've been better. There was a certain kind of brutality to a slow, quiet death; one that lasted long after the hot water turned cold and shampoo stung your eyes. After the funeral, you could taste decay in your conversations, in your silences. The rot crawled listlessly—everything did back then—tauntingly sluggish. You saw the end coming weeks before you stopped speaking, and you didn’t even try to stop it. To be fair, Lydia didn’t either.

On the first day of seventh grade, Lydia had new friends; they all smelled like vanilla and owned matching couture purses. She’d always been magnetic, but evidently losing her only constant was her final quest before she transcended to godhood. You made her human; that must have been the problem. You were babies together. You were more than family. Now, you sat across from each other in a class you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, and you did not look at each other unless it was straight through.

You snatched the runaway highlighter and quickly sunk back against the wall, pressing into it like you could force your body through the cracks in the bricks or at the very least shed the sentimentality clinging to your skin. You darted your gaze across the hall and almost snorted when you saw the amount of people who’d flocked to Lydia’s side in the span of no more than thirty seconds. Lydia was unobtainable, unknowable—and yet ever so desirable. No one really knew her, so of course they all wanted to be her. 

Lydia only liked one of them, the new girl with shiny black hair and dark eyes; you could tell. Her top lip pursed ever so slightly when she was holding back a barbed comment and a violent eye roll. Usually, Lydia didn’t bother with niceties, but for whatever reason she’d decided her new persona should only intimidate peons with looks and confidence, never brains. It was a shame, really; her cave-dweller boyfriend desperately needed educating. 

You resisted the urge to look across the hall again and smoothed out the bent corner of a notecard until ‘alpha’ became ‘alpha particle’. A shadow fell over the pink-highlighted text, and you frowned. Glancing up, your frown cemented when you saw Stiles’s elven nose and remembered that you still had his sweatshirt wadded on your desk chair.

“Hey,” Stiles adjusted his grip on his backpack, “did your car make it home okay?”

You nodded and shut your locker with your elbow, bending with the wobbling tower of school supplies in your arms until it stabilized again.

“Cool.” He nodded a few times, mouth puckered like a duck, and scratched at the back of his neck, “So. You and Lydia, huh.”

You stared intently at your notes, “Is that a question?”

“No, it’s a statement.” He hooked his thumbs around his backpack straps and leaned back slightly, “And that episode of telepathic taekwondo was definitely a statement.” 

You glowered until ‘alpha decay’ and ‘helium-4 nucleus’ mushed together into an illegible pink blob, “I’ve got a statement for you—only two words actually.” 

“So it is a thing.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he grabbed the books from under your arms.

You refused to feel grateful, even as you readjusted your grip on your cards and freed one of your hands, “Get lost, Stilinski.”

“That’s three words.” The smirk was deafening now.

The one-minute warning bell rang and a mass of students swarmed the hallway, effectively drowning out Stiles’s smugness with a sea of jock whooping and band geek trumpeting. You met his gaze and smiled, quick and sickly-sweet, before stepping around him, “Kindly. Choke.”

You ignored the sound of Stiles’s large footsteps following far too closely behind you. You wanted to be annoyed with him, but English was his first-period and he did have your books in his stupidly big hands. Instead of flipping him off, you focused your itching fingers on stacking cards and pencils on top of your desk until Stiles sat down in the seat next to you—without permission. You changed your mind; he was annoying. 

Stiles scooted the desk closer to yours with his feet, and the metal legs screeched against the linoleum flooring for you. “Was it like a ‘grew apart over the summer’ thing, or did some serious shit go down?”

You sighed heavily and lined your pencils and pens next to each other, first in order of length and then color, “Why do you care?”

His mouth remained open for a second, and then he shrugged a little too casually, “I’m a naturally inquisitive person.”

“You’re unnaturally irritating,” you grumbled, low in your throat, and scowled at your picked-apart cuticles like they had done you a particular disservice. 

Stiles huffed through his nose and threw his hands in the air, “Come on, I totally saved your ass Friday—very chivalrously too, might I add. I won’t even press charges for the theft.”

“Theft?” you finally turned around in your seat to face him at the accusation. 

Stiles nodded solemnly, “My sweatshirt. My most favorite sweatshirt of all the sweatshirts.”

Oh. You deflated a little; you’d forgotten about that pesky little detail again. You snatched your books off of his desk before your lives could become further entangled and replied flatly,  “I’ll overnight it.”

“No, I insist you keep it.” His smile was a little too crooked to be truly cocky,  “I’m a good guy like that.”

You tapped your pencil against your chin, eraser side up, and cocked your head to the side, “Isn’t it incredible how every self-proclaimed ‘good guy’ is exclusively terrible.”

Stiles’s face twisted into a petulant scowl as he collapsed against the back of his chair, and you were a little surprised that the desk managed to contain all of his gangly appendages without collapsing as well. “I like her, okay!” His exasperated confession carried to the next row of students, and Stiles melted into his seat when a jacked sophomore with no neck whistled lewdly behind you. Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles lowered his voice, “Actually, I’m kind of in love with her if you want to be technical about it.”

“Oh.” You blinked and then laughed.

“Don’t laugh, asshole.” 

“Sorry,” you grinned, not sorry in the slightest, “it’s just…isn’t everyone?”

Stiles shook his head and sighed wistfully, “Not like I am.”

You turned to get a better look at him and didn’t mask the doubt in your eyes. He was wearing a brown flannel that was practically mewling for a good ironing and a red t-shirt with the silhouette of a spider embossed over his chest. Spider-Man’s emblem, obviously. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d say it was the Andrew Garfield version. Regardless, it was blatantly clear that Stiles’s homeplanet was lightyears away from Lydia’s.  

You folded your arms over your chest and leaned back against your seat, “Have you even talked to her?” 

“Technically…no,” Stiles dipped his head from side to side like a bobble head and then pressed his palms together, gesturing with them every so often to emphasize the most ridiculous words in his sentence, “but we have a deep, unspoken connection, mostly via sporadic eye-contact.”

You just looked at him, unamused and unimpressed.

Stiles held up his hands like a director and kicked his feet onto his desk, “It’s about the long-game.”

“Gross,” you pulled a face. You weren't sure if you were referring to the gray wad of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe or the pride in his long-con. It was probably a bit of both.

“Are you gonna help a guy out or not?” Stiles nudged the leg of your desk with his sneaker—the gumless one, thankfully—and sent one of your pens careening towards the edge.

You caught it before it could hit the ground and glared at him. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not an ‘in.’” You returned the pen to its rightful place between your pencil and purple highlighter: a perfect rainbow of neuroticism. You straightened your row of writing utensils again and swallowed shallowly, “I don’t even know her anymore.”

For the first time since Stiles had popped up in front of your locker like a chronic zit, understanding clicked in his eyes. Actually, he almost looked apologetic. Stiles sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and leaned forward onto his forearms, “So…what happened? Did you not make queen bee first-string?”

“No,” you bristled. After a long exhale, you crumpled in on yourself a little and mumbled, “Yes…kind of. I don’t know. I have my version; I’m sure she has hers.”

Stiles clasped his hands together and nodded sagely, “There are as many truths as there are people.”

Your brows scrunched, and your eyes went lidded as you flipped through your mental philosophy rolodex, “Camus?”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Evangelion.” 

You were startled into a snorty chortle, “Obviously you’re a weeb.”

Stiles hid his amusement behind a slow roll of his eyes, “You’re at least 1/16 weeb if you know Evangelion is an anime.”

Before you could deny such blasphemy, you were distracted by the boy who usually sat next to you—Greg something, you were pretty sure—coming to a stop directly between you and Stiles. He lingered next to the side of his desk, breathing heavily through his mouth like some kind of sick prowler. 

Stiles glanced at him with a flat expression and then looked up again, brows shooting towards his hairline, when he didn’t leave, “Can I help you?” He jerked his head forward and shook it slightly, “Need a mint?”

Greg Something stared at him, red-rimmed eyes thoroughly glazed over, and you wondered if being faded at 7:45 in the morning was worth the tortuous five-hour wait until lunch. 

“No?” Stiles waved his hand in the air; Greg didn’t even blink. “Okay seeya.”

It took him roughly 30 seconds to comprehend what Stiles was saying, but eventually Greg shuffled towards one of the remaining empty seats in the middle of the classroom. 

“Thank you,” Stiles muttered before returning his attention to the side of your face.

You smirked slightly at your notebook, doodling a little bird with sharp talons along the margins of your notes on Kafka’s thoughts on absurdism—spoiler alert: the guy who wrote a book about a dude randomly transforming into a bug was a big fan of it. You added a long feathered tail to your bird and said, “It is his seat.”

Stiles scoffed and looked over his shoulder. You both watched Greg shove a handful of Cheeto Puffs into his mouth in slow-motion for a moment, and Stiles replied, “I think he’ll live.”

“Oh,” you shook your head a little, freshly bitten lips curling around the extended vowel, “I’m not worried about him.”

Stiles clicked his pen aggressively with his thumb and pressed his mouth together until his lips disappeared into a flat line. “If you would just answer my questions the first time, I wouldn’t have to keep asking them, so, for the love of god—” fortuitously for him, he was cut off by a loud scratchy buzz before you could succumb to your base instincts and throw an eraser into his flapping mouth. 

Principal Montoya’s voice crackled through the loudspeaker, “Attention students: I know that many of you are concerned about the…incident in the parking lot, but rest assured that the police have it well in hand. Classes will proceed as scheduled as they continue their investigation. Have a productive day, Cyclones.”

A resounding groan echoed throughout the classroom and into the hallway, followed by the hum of students breaking into various complaints. Mr. Lyman thwacked his pointer against the whiteboard, and the force of his swing sent the cartoonish hand on the end of the stick into rapid vibration—effectively shutting everyone up. The quiet was only disturbed by the rustle of zippers being unzipped and papers being smoothed when he instructed everyone to turn their essays in. 

You hastily wrote your name across the top of your paper and pointedly kept your eyes on the board when Stiles leaned across his desk. “Life’s short, y’know. One day you’re a traveling salesman, and the next you’re a grotesque, monstrous insect, wishing that you’d seized life when you had the opposable thumbs for it, so—”

“A man just died; have some class,” you interrupted him, voice dry as it was soft. Stiles might not care about getting in trouble, but you’d worked very hard to remain on a no-name basis with all your teachers. 

“We don’t know that he’s dead��or that he’s a he.”

“Oh yeah,” you jotted down the daily prompt in your notebook and muttered, “I’m sure the guy just decided to go home and sleep off the mauled limbs.”

“It could’ve been an animal,” Stiles huffed, bowing his head in submission when Mr. Lyman shot him a stern look from behind his desk. He continued with his hand over his mouth, muffling his words, “And they do run off to die alone.” 

You stared at him for a long moment. “That’s cats. Are you saying a bear ripped a bus apart for a cat.” 

“Well, if you say anything in that tone, it’s going to sound ridiculous,” Stiles muttered sullenly against his palm, and you were pretty sure that he was pouting behind it too.

You opened your mouth to reply and then squinted slightly when a boy with floppy hair skidded to a halt in front of you. His mouth was slightly agape as he looked back and forth between Stiles and Greg, who was now licking the nearly toxic orange dust off of his fingers. 

 “Sit, Scotty,” Stiles jerked his thumb towards the empty desk behind him. “Good boy.”

The boy, Scott you gathered, did not look amused, but he sat down behind Stiles anyway and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. Stiles whipped around and responded in a hushed screech.

You were distracted from her eavesdropping when Lydia’s friend sat down next to Scott—directly behind you. Her jaw could cut glass. You dropped your chin onto your folded arms and refused to let yourself frown; the end result was a slightly constipated pout. It was just…Allison had just started going to Beacon Hills a few weeks ago, and she was already completely intertwined in Lydia’s life. 

Lydia was…prickly, so you were just surprised, that’s all, how easily Allison fit into her life. More palatable, you thought as you risked a peek over your shoulder; she must be more palatable than most. A terrible, ugly thing creeped over you, and you found yourself imagining Allison choking on her beautiful, silky black hair until her beautiful dark eyes popped out of her head. Just for a moment. A brief, awful, horrible moment—until you remembered it wasn’t Allison’s fault. 

“Hey.” You flinched when you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder.

You reluctantly shifted in your chair so that you could see Allison. You just looked at her for an uncomfortable moment, and Allison smiled awkwardly, “The tests.” You blinked and licked your dry lips, at a loss for words. Allison smiled again, a little nervous but still kind, “They're on your desk.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly and reached for the pile of papers on your desk that you’d missed during your lengthy period of dissociation. You kept one and then held out the rest to Allison, mumbling, “Sorry,” under your breath.

Allison looked at you for a moment, and you didn’t like the discerning look in her doe eyes. “It’s okay. I zone-out all the time.” 

You could see why Lydia liked her; she was nice, overly so. You felt that ugly feeling slip into your mouth again, bitterness coating your tongue, and you wished that Allison was catty or at very least a vapid twit who was either too stupid or too self-involved to notice other people—like the rest of Lydia’s circle. 

“I like your necklace.” Allison nodded a little towards the black chain around your neck. 

A heavy pendant rested just over your sternum; the maze etched into the stone had eroded in places, like it had been left out in acid rain for decades. You weren’t sure exactly what it was made of; your mother never said when she gave it to you, and you never asked. It didn’t matter much now. 

“Thanks,” you finally said, because that was what normal people did when they were complimented, and you were a normal person. Mostly. You swallowed thickly and bit down on the scab in the center of your bottom lip before adding, “I like your jacket.” You did. It was simple, unadorned by gaudy zippers and lapels like so many of the other leather jackets on campus. You would wear it yourself if you didn’t break into a sweat in any temperature warmer than tepid. 

Allison’s cheeks dimpled when she smiled, and you quashed the sigh rising in your throat. Her smile was magnificent. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off, but my friend convinced me to—” Allison let out a little breathy laugh, “Sorry, you definitely don’t want to hear my jacket’s tragic backstory.”

You didn’t, not if it included hearing about Lydia’s fashion tips second-hand. Still, you scraped up a little smile, “As long as it doesn’t begin with a cow, you’re golden.”

Allison laughed and held up her hands, “It’s faux; I promise.”

“Ladies,” Mr. Lyman called from across the classroom, “I wasn’t aware that existentialism was so amusing.” You felt a dizzying heat crawl up your neck to your ears once you realized that the only noise in the room, other than Allison’s tinkly laughter, was the scratch of pencils on paper as students worked on their tests. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled at the same time, and Allison mouthed another ‘Sorry’ just for you before you turned around. Damn. You liked her. How incredibly inconvenient. You almost wished that Stiles was still pestering you so that you had a real reason to be upset—until you finally got a good look at the mid-term, more specifically at the thickness of it. You flipped through the lengthy test and looked at the ceiling briefly: Six essay questions? 

Positive: At least, you found a legitimate excuse to sulk. 

Negative: You felt a migraine coming on. 

Blessedly, whatever Scott had said to Stiles at the beginning of class was distracting enough to keep his, frankly obsessive, focus on him for the rest of first-period. You were even able to finish the final essay question without interruption—which was plenty difficult without being interrogated about your ex-best friend. You almost scoffed when you read the prompt: Whom do you sympathize with more, Gregor or his family? Who in their right mind would side with a pathetic parasite who couldn’t love anyone more than he hated himself? An uncomfortable, undeniable pang of melancholy sliced through your throat, and you were actually grateful for the distraction when the bell rang for second period and you had to pack up for chemistry. 

The impending chemistry midterm, however, was evidently a touch too distracting because you didn’t notice that you’d regained your lanky shadow until you were in Mr. Harris’s classroom and he stole the flashcard in your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned across the lab table and rocked onto your tiptoes. Your outstretched arm shook as you struggled to even brush your fingers against the cardstock, “I haven’t talked to her in years. Lurk elsewhere.”

Stiles opened his mouth and then shut it again, head bobbing helplessly for a moment, “I was just going to ask you about…Gregor. That last question was a real piece of work, huh.”

You plucked the card out of his grasp while he was distracted by his social ineptitude, “Uh huh.” 

“Scout’s honor,” Stiles placed his hand over his chest and somehow made his big eyes rounder. His pink bottom lip jutted out ever-so slightly, but the quivering at the edges of his mouth gave him away. Sighing, he leaned his weight onto his palm: flat against the tabletop, fingers spread, and far too close to your own. He gestured erratically with his other hand, and you jerked back to avoid being smacked in the face. “Personally, I’m on Grete’s side. I mean, you can only take care of your werebug brother for so long without some kind of recognition before you snap.” Stiles shot a pointed look over his shoulder at his friend from first-period, and you thought the glare Scott returned was well-deserved. You could be biased, but probably not. 

“He was a little preoccupied by being, y’know, a bug.” You shuffled your notecards and frowned pensively at the question that ended up on top of the stack: What is the formula for Calcium acetate?  

“He could’ve said thank you in Morse code.” Stiles looked over your shoulder and added, “C4H6CaO4.”

You flipped the card over and pursed your lips. He was right. “I actually said the same thing,” you admitted begrudgingly as you grabbed the next flashcard from the pile. “Not the Morse code bit, that’s objectively insane. I did say that the best thing he did for her was die.”

“Damn.” Stiles’s forehead wrinkled as he let out a puff of air, “A little harsh.”

You picked at your raw cuticles and wished you could pull your bottom lip over your head. “It’s like you said,” you muttered as you folded your arms firmly over your chest, ducking your chin towards the divot in your breastbone, “she could only deal with his depressed bullshit for so long before she got on with her life and made new, sane, non-insect friends who actually go outside, and have fun at parties, and respond to texts.” You paused and remembered that you needed air to function when your lungs started to burn. Exhaling shallowly, you pressed your calves against the stool’s frigid legs until it hurt. Maybe, if you crushed your limbs together tightly enough, curled in on yourself closely enough, you could disappear. “And don’t, y’know, crawl on the ceiling and projectile vomit Exorcist style,” you finished weakly.

Stiles studied you for a moment, and it was like he could see every painfully tender spot inside you. You felt ants crawling underneath your skin and him seeing you, and you wanted to bolt before you came completely unstitched at the seams. “Well,” he trailed off for a moment, rubbing the back of his head, “in all fairness, being there…that’s kind of the deal when you’re friends—even if they turn into a disgusting bug.” You didn’t know that someone so caustic could sound so gentle, like ink running across paper.

“Siblings.” You swallowed and looked away from his unyielding gaze, but you still saw amber and understanding every time you blinked. “You mean siblings.”

“Sure.” Stiles smiled a little and slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, “Siblings.”

You swallowed again, couldn’t even manage a ‘see'ya’ or an eyeroll when he saluted you goodbye, and watched him saunter towards his seat next to Scott through your lashes with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. You felt a little sick once you realized that you weren’t relieved by his absence. It was all you’d wanted at the beginning of his inquisition, and yet…you wanted him to sit next to you. The epiphany struck you right in the stomach, and you felt a bit like one of your dad’s rare butterflies—tissue paper wings pinned to paper, fervently yearning to fly away, even if it meant ripping yourself apart. 

Normally, you thoroughly enjoyed not having a lab partner. The class had an odd number of students, and Mr. Harris either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care that you never joined another pair during labs. It was a toss-up, considering he seemed to loathe his job as much as he loved devoting his undivided attention to mocking Stiles. Speak of the bifocal-ed Devil. 

“Mr. Stilinski,” the contempt in Mr. Harris’s voice was sickeningly viscous. You imagined mucus dripping from his thin lips; it helped quell some of the righteous anger in your gut. He continued, and now he was spitting up slugs and snot, “If that’s your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while. I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?”

“No–” Stiles’s jaw hung open as he shook his head violently. 

Mr. Harris silenced him with a glare, and your fingers curled into your palms as you watched the condescension gloss over his smirk when Stiles complied. Your jagged, bitten-down nails pinched your skin; you quickly flattened your hands on top of the table before you did something stupid like draw attention to yourself. It was none of your business, after all, and you had a test to prepare for. 

You stared at your notes, reread the same sentence over and over again without comprehending a single word, until you felt the uneasy sensation of someone sneaking up behind you.

“Hey,” Stiles sat down on the empty stool next to you and kicked at your shoe lightly under the table. You hummed in recognition and slid your textbook over to make room for his things. 

Stiles’s face scrunched as he flipped through his own notes. You couldn’t read most of it—not that you were looking; his hand-writing was just glaringly atrocious. Everything was smooshed together and most of the letters were partially incomplete, like his pencil couldn’t keep up with his brain. You looked back at your own notebook, at the meticulously symmetrical loops and compulsively straight lines, and the corner of your mouth curled into a brief smile. 

The quiet was nice, but you couldn’t shake the irritation sticking to your fingers. You tapped your pencil against your notebook a few times, bit down on the inside of your cheek, and then said, “He’s a dick.” You spoke quietly, but Stiles still flinched. The highlighter in his hand left a long yellow streak across his textbook, and you winced. Truthfully, you were equally startled that you’d voluntarily broken a perfect moment of silence. 

Stiles didn’t seem bothered by the new mark permanently defacing his book, most likely because a good portion of the glossy pages were already more yellow than they were white. He angled his chin towards you and smirked, “Are you legally allowed to call a teacher a dick? Y’know, as the resident teacher’s pet.” 

You grinned at your notes, “I have the utmost authority, actually.”

Stiles leaned forward onto his forearms and struggled to keep his mouth impassive, “Oh, yeah?”

A loud, grating squeal of metal on tile and an even louder yelp interrupted your reply. A girl near the front of the classroom shot up out of her seat, almost sending her stool toppling to the ground, and then bolted towards the window overlooking the parking lot, “I think they found something!” 

Mr. Harris quickly lost control of the classroom as the rest of the class surrounded her, practically pressing their stupefied faces against the glass to get a better look at what, or rather whom, the EMTs were wheeling out of the thicket of trees just beyond the school’s perimeter. You hesitated for a moment before joining the stragglers. Morbid fascination dwindled after you were confronted with the reality of it—you weren't in any rush to see another dead body. 

You weren't ever supposed to actually see the photos; they were strictly evidence for the potential arson investigation. The coroner didn’t even want your dad to see the body. There hadn’t been any point, after all; it was completely unidentifiable. At the time, you thought it would help. You thought peeking at the case file while the Sheriff was on the phone might remind you of some crucial detail, hidden in the depths of your blackout—and, well, you thought it might finally make it real. Maybe, if you saw the proof, you’d finally believe that your mom wasn’t coming back. 

You’d been wrong, of course. Seeing what was left of your mom, seeing her like…that, it’d just made you puke. Your whole body had trembled from the retching, and then you were paralyzed, held hostage by a glacial streak of terror. Sheriff Stilinski had been so terribly understanding about the whole thing, like it was nothing: vomit on his office floor, trembling hands invading his private files. He’d just wiped the corners of your mouth with a tissue and rubbed your upper back in slow circles, just like her your mom did when you were sick—which ultimately sent you into another round of dry-heaving. You never felt the temptation to look again. 

You let out a deep breath when you looked out the window and saw the man on the gurney twitch. His jacket and pants were black, and his shirt was charcoal gray, dark enough to hide any blood stains. The only injury you could make out was a large gash on his face; it was still bleeding sluggishly, leaving a sticky red trail from his jaw to his neck. Your grip on your forearms tightened as your stomach lurched. 

The paramedics began to load the gurney into the ambulance, and the man surged forward without a single warning. His screams were raw, like they’d been ripped from his throat along with the flesh on his cheek, and every single one of the students crowded against the windows recoiled from the wailing. You swallowed the bile burning your throat. It was like they were watching their own, personal horror movie and couldn’t decide if they were more exhilarated or horrified—just itching for the jump scare. 

You stumbled back towards the door and bumped into Stiles and Scott. Stiles gripped your arm gently until you regained your footing.

“That’s not a rabbit,” Scott said under his breath. He looked as queasy as you felt.

“Or a cat,” you added quietly.

“But he’s alive,” Stiles nudged Scott a little, “that’s good, right? Dead guys can’t do that.”

Scott still looked like he was going to hurl all over Stiles’s white Vans, and you felt a flutter of sympathy. The only thing worse than puking was doing it in front of other people. “You might want to take him somewhere,” you spoke softly to Stiles. “He looks like he’s going to pass out.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded a little and wrapped an arm around Scott’s rigid shoulders, “good call.” 

His eyes darted around the classroom: big, and brown, and frantic—like a lost fawn. You nodded towards the dark corner Mr. Harris was dissociating in, “I’ll cover for you.”

“Yeah?” Stiles smiled a little, but he looked weary down to his bones as he started shuffling Scott towards the door. 

“Yeah,” your smile was a bit wobbly at the edges, “but only ‘cause I get a sick thrill out of fucking with dicks.” 

Your weak attempt to ease some of the tension in the air was semi-successful; Scott was still staring into another dimension, but Stiles looked positively giddy at the prospect of such a perfect setup. “I have, just, so many thoughts on that, but I’ll save them for after Scott—” he gave Scott a long look and scratched the back of his buzzed head, “gets his blood sugar up.”

It was sweet, you thought as you watched Stiles guide Scott into the hallway, lying to spare Scott’s pride. You thought Stiles would be a better liar, but maybe that was the downfall of being raised by a police officer. It was either that or the general social impotence. Not that you had much room to talk; silence was your preferred method of social interaction. 

The classroom was far from silent now. Students were spread out across the room in little clumps. Some spoke in furious whispers. Others weren’t as discreet, and you could hear every single preposterous word that left their mouths. The amount of sophomores who didn’t know that the California grizzly bear went extinct almost a century ago was a very depressing glimpse into the public education system, but at least there were only two boys howling obnoxiously at a few giggling volleyball girls. Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone and typed ‘Beacon Hills bus attack’ into the search bar. 

You refreshed the webpage obsessively, all throughout chemistry and art class, until an article finally popped up on your screen at lunch. You bit into your slightly bruised apple and squinted at your phone, immensely grateful for the empty courtyard as you came across the grittier details. 

You always ate lunch outside; it was quieter without the echoes of gossip and laughter, and the heady scent of cut grass was far preferable to whatever monstrosity the cafeteria was serving that day. Today, the afternoon heat made the earthy warmth especially thick in the air. Normally, you loved that smell, the smell of summer. It reminded you of frenzied August afternoons, running through Lydia’s sprawling backyard and swinging into brisk lake water, but the smell was quickly becoming suffocating the more you read. 

The man who was attacked was a bus driver. He was smiling in the photo they’d chosen to include before pictures of the crime scene, like a warped ‘before and after’ ad. You dropped your half-eaten apple into your lunch sack and shoved it to the side when you got to the background bits. Garrison Myers had a family, a wife and two daughters; they were praying for his unlikely survival. Your throat hurt, and you wondered if there was an apple chunk lodged in your esophagus. Swallowing hard, you scrolled down to the police interview. The deputy they managed to get a quote from clearly knew next to nothing, though he did posit the possibility of a mountain lion attack. You rolled your eyes. Maybe on PCP. 

The only thing you were sure of was that whatever kind of beast ripped a woman in half and slashed a man to ribbons in the span of a week wasn’t going to stop. At least, not until it was killed.

[noeou]

THE ART OF AVOIDANCE.

the only way to get rid of a crush is by avoiding them, at least in your mind.

includes: vil schoenheit, idia shroud, and riddle rosehearts. ( x gn!reader. )

next parts: curently unavailable.

contains: fluff! platonic to romantic. open ended for idia and vil. ooc 'cause i said so.

sincerely noe ,⠀this takes up 8 pages in google docs 0.6k words minimum (each), lhm. i'm gonna go eat now. also a quick thank you to the person that answered this, you helped me pick the other two characters <3

vil schoenheit [ pomefiore ]

the main reason you and vil got along was because you could take criticism. that and the fact that you didn't take his long and (oddly) specific 'observations' to heart, but after a while it got hard to put up with.

no, your skin didn't get weaker. it was just the fact that the person you loved (debatable) and adored (also debatable) was constantly telling you your mishaps and it's impossible for it to not get to your head.

it felt that you couldn't tell anyone about your feelings 'cause you knew you'd get met with judgement on you 'type' and get told 'but you're yn, you can take it!' if you say you can no longer take his criticisms.

"Ace, hand me the glue gun please."

But you'd always have the duo and Grim. So that's where your time went instead of chasing the around house warden that probably didn't notice your absence.

"On it!" The red head turned from his project to hand you the glue gun.

"Are you guys almost done?" Deuce asked, pausing on his as well.

Grim jumped up excitedly, "Yeppers! Look at our super cool one!"

You chuckled as your companion showed off a mini doll version of him you both knitted.

"Mine's cooler!" Ace joined, except with his doll.

Their banter was interrupted with a knock on the door. Ace visibly paled, becoming nervous as he went to get the door.

"Warden Riddle, I swear it wasn't me!" You facepalmed at the sight of your friend. He didn't even look at who was at the door before he spewed apologies.

"I'm not Riddle..."

Apparently, you didn't check either. It was your turn to panic at the sight of the very person you tried (not that is was hard) to avoid.

vil didn't mean to criticize you to the point of scaring you away. all the little details he'd point out were things, most of the time, he admired about you. it was just impossible to say. people in his life would take the smallest compliment from him and twist it to fit their fantasy of him being in love with them or something to that affect.

he knew that repeating all those observations may affect how he thought of you so he did keep a journal, expressing the little things he felt too suffocated to say.

when epel suggested he may have scared you away, he was afraid the first year was right. that's why he went to go find you, not sending rook or epel but going himself. and his worse fears may have been confirmed.

Vil had no intention of forcing you to interact with him, he just intended to give you said journal and leaving. He wanted to leave the future of your relationship to you and he'd keep his distance until the decision was made.

He was willing to share thoughts and feelings he kept between him and the pages with you, a small hope that was put out by the sound of your laughing with the Heartslabyul two.

It took a minute, a foreign hesitance, before he knocked on the door.

The sudden silence made him even more anxious. Until it was filled with apologies addressed to the Crimson Tyrant, then he was simply confused.

He scanned the room for you, meeting not your eyes but a hand covering your face. Did you know it was him? Was he making a mistake?

You looked more comfortable as well. Your uniform was messed up, your hair was down. It was as if he was looking at a much younger version of you, a look of youth that he purposely had you hide.

"I'm not Riddle..." he managed, not looking away from you.

The mixed emotions on your face didn't go unnoticed, but he had no time to try and interpret them.

"Vil." Ace bowed again, not as deeply as he was a moment prior. The blue haired one stood as well, fists clenched and tied with a look of irritation.

"I mean no harm—"

"As if!" Vil nearly screamed why your cat-like companion jumped up onto Ace's head. "All you've done is harm! It's better for all of us if you leave now."

"Grim!" You pulled him off the redhead and pulled the other away. "We should talk."

The expression of surprise on the house warden's face was mirrored by your friends, only without his relief tied in as well.

"I would like that— if only if you're comfortable."

You led him out of the twisted Heartslabyul halls. Neither of you able to look at the other as you walked.

It was strange. Suddenly the roles were reversed and Vil was the one following you. He didn't mind it completely, but the anxiety of your next move was too great for him to think clearly.

Eventually, he was forced to speak.

"I've only come to deliver this to you," he handed you a hardcover book, magic sealing it.

The moment it made contact with your skin as you took it, the magic seemingly became void and you could open it. For a moment, a childlike curiosity took over as you examined it.

"But..."

You looked up, returning to reality.

You had no idea how to react as you watched Vil's mask so tightly sewn on break before you. The emotion made him unrecognizable, in a good way. For the first time in you knowing him, the Fairest of them all became personable.

Was it really possible for a perfect person to become more perfect?

"I've decided that waiting is something I don't want to do. I feel stupid for trying to tell you in any other way than face to face… but infatuation is something I rarely encounter, and I want you to know— I want you to know I like you. Like in that way.”

idia shroud [ ignihyde ]

you tried your hardest to be patient, knowing idia’s rocky relationship with human interaction. you made sure he was taking car of himself and had neat surroundings and as he got more and more comfortable with you, he’d help you out and join ortho and you when you’d visit.

getting to know him was not, at all, an easy feat. but it was fair to say it was worth it. you ended up falling for him, no? the hard thing about that is, you fell for a side of him he kept well hidden.

you knew pulling back and away would permanently damage your relationship to a point of no return, however staying knowing the potential would break you.

“Do what you think is right, Y/n.”

You and Ortho were collecting scraps to bring back to the dorm when you broke the news to him.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt Idia—”

“As much as I care for my brother, I also care about you. If he truly is putting you through this, especially if he doesn’t know he is… I think you’d Gould put yourself first.”

It was times like this Ortho’s childlike form truly didn’t fit his maturity. You smiled at his words, nodding as your confidence grew in your decision.

“Thank you, I hope our friendship—”

Ortho used his shoes to propel him higher in the sky, high enough to pat your head. He grinned as he said, “Nothing will change between us, you’re like an older sibling to me!”

From that day forward, you continued things as they were only when Idia wasn’t around. Ortho was a big help in this, not forcing you to talk to his brother if you didn’t want, but not even he was able to predict the older’s every move.

idia knew something was up when your time on animal crossing increased as the amount he saw you decreased. you were never one to be interested in games as much as he, but he made you an account anyway and you played together sometimes.

he had a full proof plan, he'd log onto his computer like a facetime and confront you when you came to visit while he was out. however, you looked calmer, ignoring the evidence of lack of sleep in your eyes.

he decided to keep his mouth shut, watching you for a moment longer before hanging up.

Idia is not stupid, he was aware that the more time that passed would only mess up your relationship further. He needed to act quickly.

Locking himself in his room for a few days, he thought up a full proof plan to win you back but as more than friends. Double or nothing, as they say.

Staring at his hightech whiteboard, empty for hours at this point, nothing was happening. He frowned to himself, retreating to his gaming chair with an exasperated sigh escaping him.

He did as you'd do in a situation like this and logged on to animal crossing. If his assumptions were correct you wouldn't be able to log back on for a few hours now, logging onto your account he started working.

Back when you were still talking to him, you mentioned you wanted to build something that resembled the hade's underworld. You said it reminded you of something called 'Hadestown' and you showed his a few pictures so he had the idea.

So far it looked really good, he just planned on helping get you the necessary tools you need. Maybe it was the tiredness getting to him, but he made a pin, telling you it was him as well as all the things he also wanted to say.

Logging off, he went to take a nap without a second thought.

riddle rosehearts [ heartslabyul ]

the main reason you chose to distance yourself from riddle was actually because you thought he'd hate it if he found out you had feeling for him in that way. you were hoping, since it's exam week, that he'd be too busy preparing to notice you were gone and after this week your feeling will be gone and things could go back to normal.

it felt weird though, studying without him. normally study sessions would be productive, but with you carrying the team with the last two braincells… productive isn't the word i'd use.

considering how riddle is the housewarden of your bestfriends, you had to take them in when your plan started. while you trusted them to keep your secret, ace would most likely slip up in one way or another during a scolding.

It wasn't as bad as you thought having the two over, it was like a long sleepover. They had made makeshift beds on the floor out of fear of your (mostly) see through roommates. 

Most of your time was spent attempting to study before the four of you inevitably gave up and headed to Sam's for ice cream to sulk about how you'd definitely fail. It was a cycle with seemingly no end. 

"We can do this!" You pumped a fist in the air, the others beginning to match your energy. 

Grim put on a look of determination, much like the other two. "We'll mop the floor with this!"

"Indeed we will."

And just like all your other attempts that week, you only ended up 'moping the floor' with your tears. 

You werent sure how you got in this position, but you stared at Deuce's paper through glossy eyes at an attempt to understand the explanations he tried to provide. It was dark outside, cool in your room. A blanket was laid over the both of your laps and over Ace's face as he gave up long ago and took a nap on the Deuce's leg. Grim did the same, but rested on your head. 

"I want Riddle back," You mumbled, the last of your frustration transferring into sadness. You wiped the threatening tears with the back of your hand.

Deuce let out a sigh, trying to think of what to say. "Maybe we can get someone else's help?" 

"Like who?" You sat up, pulling your companion down from his resting place above you.

"Az–"

"Don't mess with me, Deuce. We both know how that'll end."

"Or you could ask me as you usually do."

in the beginning, riddle thought that you, ace and deuce were up to something when you went missing at the same time. there wasn't much he could do about it with his schedule. don't be mistaken he didn't forget about you.

normally around this time he'd be pulling all nighters with you, feeling frustrated at your slowness, but still trying his best to stay calm. he missed that, not the lack of sleep, but having an excuse to be with you without having to initiate it. it was a mutually understood (?) thing. 

no, he didn't ask questions until those days turned into the majority of the week. during a sudy session with trey and cater, they pointed out how he should at least message you, because even they were getting worried. he sent you a quick message that turned into two, then three, and four. 

Riddle isn't one to appreciate interruptions, especially when studying so it was surprising how irritated at a lack thereof. 

"Where are you going?" Cater watched him, curiously.

In one moment, Riddle was sitting working somewhat peacefully and the next he was fuming out the door. He thought of the worst case scenarios, you were never one to ignore messages; he also couldn't get ahold of his freshmen (though that was that out of the ordinary.)

A shiver was sent down his spine upon entering the cool place. It was also possible it was because he walked in on three ghosts playing cards.

"Are you looking for your lovely?" the smallest one asked.

"Y/n! Your boyfri–"

"Refrain from that." Riddle addressed the biggest one. He patted his uniform, calming himself. "They're upstairs?"

"Who's asking?" The slim one dragged.

The smallest floated up to whack the other's nonexistent head, "Y/n's husband, obviously!"

"Wait they got married?" 

"No!" Riddle headed for the stairs, deciding not to waste a moment more on them. 

In their laughter, one managed to warn, "Knock! The youngins' are hard at work up there."

Riddle wanted to make sure you three were at least alive and not wanted criminals, the first confirmed at the sound of your voices. He wanted to scold each of you for scaring him, but the mention of his name made him stop and listen.

"I want Riddle back," You sounded weak, and low on energy. It wasn't something he wasn't used to, but knowing he wasn't there to help in the ways he was able.

Deuce let out a sigh,  "Maybe we can get someone else's help?" 

No, why weren't you going to him?

"Like who?" He heard shuffling in the room, pressing his ear to the wooden door to hear better.

"Az–"

"Don't mess with me, Deuce. We both know how that'll end."

Unable to listen to you foolishness for a moment longer, he made his grand entrance. He wasn't sure if he was angry or sad, but looking at your tear stained face made him concerned.

"Or you could ask me as you usually do." He managed, taking in your conditions.

"Housewarden!" Deuce tried to shake his redheaded counterpart awake but stopped at Riddle's command.

"Do not bother, I'm here for Y/n. You get some rest, as well, we can review tomorrow. I'll return them safely." Riddle looked to you, who didn't return his gaze. 

He let out a sigh of relief as you got up and collected yourself– "wait for me downstairs."

That he did, awkwardly being examined by the three transparent elders.

"Win 'em back, alrightie?"

"Yeah! It's been a snotfest without ya', a pain really."

"Mhm, they're not all that bright."

In sync they laughed, in sync they stopped. Looking at him again, they disappeared into puffs of smoke and reappeared the same way around him.

"Break their heart again and I'll request that you join us in a game of cards."

"And we've been playing for a while…"

"I wasn't planning on it!" Riddle face felt much warmer at the thought of doing so. 

"Guys, leave him alone." You groaned, groggily. 

He led you outside and you found a seat on a cut down tree's trunk. Patting the space next to you, he joined you. 

"Why are you here?"

"Why are you not talking to me?"

More awkwardness ensued when you both said that at the same time. He looked at you, again not meeting his eyes.

"'Cause you'll hate me. Banish me even," The lack of sleep was talking. 

"Banish you from where?" He asked, confused.

"Heartslabyul… and here," – you pointed at the spot on his chest his heart would be– "Because I think you're adorable and smart and amusing and so many other things. And because I like you, but I don't think you'd like that, would you?"

His expression changed to one of more surprise, his lips tugging upward only for the keenest of eyes to notice. Looking down at the landscape before him, with another relieved breath, "And what if I would?"

[flightyalrighty]

What do you think about Shadow? What is your personal perception of him? I'm curious about your answer (I hope is spoiler free)

On his character profile, wikipedia etc... for a while he is describled in a strong negative way, like he has no positive traits, an anti-MarySue. But I remember that Shadow from SA2 to 2006, including Shadow 2005 (surprisling, watching the cut scene, I found his positive traits are still there), and then Prime Shadow, tMoStH (those two versions are a bit shy) and Archie Shadow has a good balance of positive and negative traits. In particular the first Shadow (Adventure 2) was enternaining, he seemed playful and mischievous at times, like he was sill a kid even if he was heavily burdened by his past, and there was something likeable in Shadow in Heroes, like he is nice to have around as friend although sometimes he may get difficult to deal with his stubborness, melancholy and pessimism.

Often people complain about Shadow being too expressive in Archie comics. I admit I complained too before rewatching SA2/Sheroes cutscenes, reading some old Sega description of the character, how Maekawa envisioned him (far different than what we have today and that's clear from SA2), I could see Archies' choices.

Also, Archie Shadow is still cold and gruff toward those he doesn't know/he didn't connect with (I lovd the part where he was answering to Relic's questions). He shows his softer side only to his closest friends and still has that hints of distrust, typical of those that were and are still abused and rejected in every possible way.

I like how you showed this in the early page of Infested. The Shadow in first pages is caring toward Rouge, but he is quiet, very focused, and stubborn (when he wanted to complete his mission despite the double concussion and the pain). I see the tick (the bug makes me think to a tick. I see them quite often bvecause the little b...s often attack my cats) is now neutralizing his mental shield, leaving him with his insecurities exposed and vulnerable, in order to make him panic more easily. Shadow's personality is still there for now but his defense is gone.

I think that different continuities have different takes on Shadow (as you mentioned with Archie and Prime). While I thought pretty long and hard about how to answer this, ultimately I'm not sure how. I'll try?

My personal perception of Shadow is simply how he was written before the series had its big tonal shift starting with Sonic Colors. This no-nonsense guy who strives to do the right thing in the most straightforward and efficient way possible. His character arc concluded with Sonic 06, and then he was slid backwards by a company that wanted so badly to twist the franchise to suit the whims of people who never had a real interest in Sonic to begin with. Shadow is so much more than the flat character he'd been hydraulic pressed into. He's more than

This.

I don't envy Ian Flynn's job. He started his career a lot more free to write Shadow how he wanted to, and then found himself struggling against more and more and more restraints -- To the point that he's said on record that he doesn't like writing Shadow anymore. That's sad, especially when my favorite take on all of Team Dark came from his pen. Ian Flynn, famously, was Archie Sonic's writer until its death.

Archie's Team Dark is how I love to see them written.

Archie Shadow, in particular, had a lot more going on than game!Shadow. He was far less likely to cause friction within the Team Dark dynamic -- Not to say friction is a bad thing in fiction, quite the opposite, but when that friction happens all the time it's exhausting. If Shadow was actually allowed more moments to be an actual teammate or collaborate with someone outside of Team Dark without making the whole situation way more needlessly difficult all on his own, that could solve a lot of the issues folks have been complaining about. Like, he doesn't even need to be written nicer, just more willing to work with allies when necessary. He used to do this. Now he barrels into every situation solo.

Anyway, kvetching about Shadow's current writing concluded (on top of the actual answer for this ask).

[writingseaslugs]

Octavinelle: When They're Sick

To all my Emetophobes out there...this does reference the thing but isn't described. They got food poisoning, but as someone with emetophobia it won't be heavily in this...at all. This is your warning though that if even slight mentions trigger you, go away. Floyd is probably the worst one of the bunch, so my apologies. I stan the man but we all know he can’t take care of himself.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

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Octavinelle: When They’re Sick

You’d think that by now the members of Octavinelle would’ve learned that when Jade brought back a new mushroom to cook with, they should let him try it first. Of course Jade knew this, and oftentimes wouldn’t mention it was something new he found. This caused the two people closest to him to get that beautiful thing known as food poisoning. Not the most glamorous of sicknesses, but it was what they got for eating something that Jade made without questioning him more. Misery does love company it would seem.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is honestly mortified at the thought that he’s sick, especially with something like food poisoning. He refuses to accept it even though he clearly has it. He tells himself it’s just a bit of nausea and that’s all. That is until later when he’s chilling in the bathroom and he realizes maybe it wasn’t just nausea. This isn’t going to stop him though, he has too much work to do at the lounge so he’ll put up with it in order to get things done.

Initially he will be refusing any form of help. He is at his most vulnerable and disgusting moment in life and doesn’t want to be seen. He can delete photos of his past, but he can’t delete your memories of what you’ll witness. You’re going to have to force him to let you help him out one way or another because let’s be honest, something like food poisoning is going to put our poor, dear Azul out of commission for a while.

The moment you shine that beautiful bottle of twisted wonderland’s version of pepto in his face he’s grabbing it and hoarding it away. He’s not even going to question it as he pours the serving size into the little cup they give and downs it in one go. He might turn a bit green at the taste but he’ll keep it down in front of you.

Azul will originally be kindly denying any and all food until he’s confident he can keep something down. Even then, it can only be something bland. Unseasoned fish with rice will be his go to in this situation and he’ll thank you for making it. He will be questioning if Jade got to the dish beforehand, so reassure him that the culprit of his downfall didn’t touch it. He’s going to eat super slow and stop a few times to make sure it’s settling in his stomach, but once he knows he can eat he’ll actually eat.

He will be asking to form a contract with you. Something simple, you get whatever you want and in return, you can’t physically speak of what you witnessed. He’s desperate after having you see him that sick and he will be stressing about you possibly making fun of him. He’ll be playing it off cool, but inside he is absolutely dying. Just sign the contract and ask for something simple, like a free soda on Mondays at the lounge. It’ll be less stressful on him even though he has nothing to worry about with you.

Jade Leech

Jade knows he screwed up the moment he felt his stomach protesting. Honestly it’s not the worst he’s done when experimenting with mushrooms. He’s not hallucinating this time, so that’s a bonus. Still, he hates that disgusting feeling of nausea settling in him and he might become significantly more grouchy and ask to be alone. He’ll find a room away from Floyd while he’s sick just so nobody can interact with him. He’s more moody due to his own failings, and his normal cool demeanor goes away a little bit.

He’s going to try and be nice about it in his own way, mainly when he’s telling you to leave him alone. He won’t out right snap at you, that’s not what he does, but the frown on his face as he tells you that he doesn’t want to have any visitors is enough of a hint. If you nudge him some more and let him know you just want to help by getting him a few things he’ll need, he might let up due to not having the energy to argue back. As long as you make yourself sparse, he’ll allow it. 

Jade has no issues with the medicines you bring him, but he will be reading the bottles thoroughly to make sure it isn’t something that might kill him. He doesn’t often get sick and this is the first time dealing with something like this while on land, so the medication they use is different. You might have to just pour him a shot and hand it to him or else he’ll be spending too long checking over things instead of just taking it. He’ll thank you though, so that’s a bonus.

He’s going to wait until his stomach stops flipping before he eats anything. He’s a firm believer in the BRAT diet after researching it and will only eat the things listed on it. Get him some apple sauce and a cut up banana to start things off. If he’s well enough to eat that means he’s finally getting back to normal. He’ll carry out a conversation with you at this point and not be forcing you out of the room. He might even thank you for helping him out despite his…testy attitude.

Once he’s better he’ll be fully back to normal and probably not discuss the incident too much. He’ll thank you of course, but after that he’ll act like it never happened. It’s probably for the best, he’d rather not have anyone around him when vulnerable like that, so having you take care of him was already something that was hard for him to accept. Easier to forget about it…if not for Floyd always bringing it up.

Floyd Leech

He is one of the most dramatic people when he’s sick, which is saying something. Unlike the others, he really doesn’t want to be alone. The moment he realizes what Jade did, he’s going to be overly emotional. He’s also not going to be listening to his body until it’s too late, which normally leads him to clinging onto a trash can on his bed with tears in his eyes because he didn’t realize he was about to be sick until five seconds before it happened. It’s also violent…very violent. It’s better to not be in the room and clear out.

If you’re brave enough to help him, you need to have a strong stomach and not have emetophobia. He’s not the one to run to the toilet so you’ll be having to take out a lot of trash bags while he’s sick. He also, for some ungodly reason, wants to cuddle while he’s sick. It’s not suggested, not just for his breath but there’s a chance if he’s curled up with you then he won’t have enough reaction time. So simply tell him to lay down and not get sick everywhere. Plus side is if you do have emetophobia, you can probably string Jade into cleaning up for his brother as long as he’s not sick as well.

He hates medicine, and he’s worse than a child. He wants to feel better, sure, but he doesn’t want to take gross medicine. You’re going to have to pop the medicine into a fridge to make it not taste as bad and then try and convince him that it’ll taste fine. If you lie to him he promises he’ll get you back once he’s better. Really he should be fine with taking medicine if he takes the potion to have legs, but he swears it’s only because he’s used to the other one’s bad taste. Plug his nose and force it down his throat if you have to.

Floyd only has two moods when he has food poisoning: he’s either going to eat whatever he wants and his body will force eject it ten minutes later, or he simply refuses to touch anything. Give him bland foods and monitor how fast he’s eating it. Best to just bring really small plates out for him so he doesn’t try to down it all in one go, if he’s even willing to eat. He’s a difficult patient to please.

Once he’s better, expect the world’s clingiest eel to ever exist. He’ll be wanting to go everywhere with you and thanking you for being such a good nurse. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t sleep for two days because you were making sure he was fine, he’s going to be wanting to spend every minute he has with you now. If you’re really that tired then he will just take a nap with you. Just…good luck getting away from him after he’s recovered. He likes to be taken care of and spoiled; he’ll almost be disappointed he’s better which is probably why he’s hanging around you right after. Anytime you turn and ask him how he’s feeling he gets all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

[twst-hottest-takes]

So. . . Basically I am loving the idea of the new Halloween event! I do have a couple of hangups, but it's nothing that breaks the game.

First off the premise!

Another book-based event! Much like with Stitch in the beach episode, it looks like Jack Skellington, Sally, and Zero are all going to be characters that our chosen cast interacts with!

While this will be a lot of fun, I am a bit sad that this means we likely won't get officially "twisted" versions of these characters (barring Skully but we'll get to him). Also the book-based event means that, likely, whatever happens can be considered semi-canon at best because everyone will just end up with amnesia and forget the whole thing happened in the end which is a little less fun.

Next up!

"Skully J. Graves"

Not much to say at this point. Love him. Love his design. Gojo is reincarnated and I'm not complaining. I can't wait to see how he interacts with the casts of NRC and Nightmare Before Christmas. How will he fit into the story?

Being Twisted from the Pumpkin King himself (confirmed by Yana Taboso!) I wonder exactly how he'll be as an antagonist to our boys, if at all.

And of course the new cards!

~Fabulous~

~Chef's Kiss~

~Mmmwwwwaa!~

I was hoping for a different group of SSRs, but I won't harp on that too much. The guys look great! We've gotten 2 Jamil cards in a row now with his hair down and I think he looks great! Sebek is so dapper in that hat, and he was one of the characters I hoped would get a gold card for this Halloween. ~And LEONA. WOW. Man, he looks awesome in an eyepatch. Like, I know he doesn't need it, but that is actually the PEAK of his character design.

IT ONLY TOOK 5 YEARS FOR SAVANACLAW TO GET A HALLOWEEN SSR!

I was honestly hoping that Jack Howl would get it because he's so neglected (HIS LAST EVENT CARD WITH A GROOVY ILLUSTRATIONS WAS PORT FEST!) and Ruggie and Leona generally get more attention than him, but Leona is fine for now I guess (Stop stealing Jack's cards!). The card looks great and Jack can always have one next time. He isn't in this event which is a pity, but at least that means next time is open for him! (We're running out of characters to rotate into the SSR slots. . .kind of frustrating actually.)

As for the rest of the cards: They look great too! Honestly, I'm happiest to see Vil, Azul, and Malleus get the R cards they so deserve (mostly Vil because he should have had one last year!). The one thing I agree with in terms of negative aspects is that Idia does seem a little lack-luster for an SR card. I think we're just very used to his Phantom Bride attire and this is kind of a downcycle of that look so I don't blame people for being underwhelmed honestly.

Also, Trey is out of R-Card Hell! Good for him. :)

Final thoughts and hopes for the event?

I think it's funny that they need to specify it as Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas.

I think that each of the SSRs will get a featured character to have alongside their chibi battle sprite. Much like Stitch is with Lilia and Floyd. (A leaked image has Sebek with Zero, so I think the safe bet is that Leona will have Jack and Jamil will have Sally.

All of the overblotters are in this event, which is the first time I thinj this has happenes on Halloween so you can tell this one is going to be special!

And that's just about it from me as far as first impressions go! One last thing before I go though!

I have this cockamamie idea in my head that since this one is such a big deal--given the featured film theme--I really, REALLY, would like the idea of this being the next Halloween event to get a 2-part release. Like how the first 2 years were Halloween 1/2, I think ALL THE BOYS should get the chance to dress up fancy and hang out in Halloweentown! It's a pipe dream, and highly unlikely, but there is another character we didn't see in the teaser that could easily be twisted for a new bishie in a second part to this story!

(EDIT! I HAD TO RECAST THE POLL TO MAKE IT GO FOR LONGER THAN A DAY!)