#Neige Leblanche x reader

[temiizpalace]

☆┊WILL YOU MARRY ME? ..FOR THE FOOD OF COURSE

SUMMARY: a friend on the inside told you that this restaurant gives out free food to guests who propose.. well what better way to get free food than to get your crush in on this?

CHARACTERS: all (+RSA and ROLLO)

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: ignore the fact it’s a ton of highschool students getting proposed to

reader gender is not mentioned, reader could be yuu

THINKS ITS STUPID ; YOU PROPOSE

so let him get this straight. you want to fake a marriage proposal with him just to get a free dinner at a fancy restaurant? are you joking? why would you want to go through the hassle? he could literally cook or get someone to cook you a meal twice as good! also for free! you’re so lucky he likes you too. i mean what. anyways, reluctantly, he agreed to the plan.

as you got on one knee, he couldn’t help his heart from pounding. it’s fake, the boy reminded himself, trying to suppress his painfully obvious heartbeat. you slide the ring on his finger, the applause around him being the only to pull him out of lala land. at first he thought it was dumb, but next time, he wouldn’t mind doing this again so long as you don’t go back on your word.

he forgot about the food and barely ate.

ace, riddle, leona, azul, jamil, idia, sebek, rollo

HESITANT, BUT AGREES ; HE PROPOSES

proposal? like, marriage proposal? oh. oh seven. SERIOUSLY— wait, no, a staged one. whoops. haha, you got him. gosh darn it.. you want to do this with him though? you could’ve asked anyone else! what an honor it is to pretend to marry you.. it’s like a dream come true! sort of. hold on, what if he gets carried away? jeez, it makes him nervous just thinking about it.. can he do this? is this morally correct? well you asked him first.. okay, he’ll do it!

the ring box rests in his pocket, waiting for your signal before he can ask for your hand. as he got on his knee, he could feel his hands tremble, begging not to screw up or accidentally drop the ring. his eyes meet yours, as did the audiences. the heat in his cheeks rose immensely as he uttered the four magic words, your acceptance gaining cheers from the crowd. that.. that felt good. he’ll definitely propose to you again! but the next time he does, it won’t be for show.

he was sad when he remembered this was fake. the food didn’t taste good anymore.

deuce, cater, trey, jack, ruggie, epel, malleus, silver

HE GETS REALLY INTO IT ; HE PROPOSES

there was no convincing involved at all. the moment you said “let’s fake a proposal” he already agreed. and please let me tell you how into it he got. he went through rehearsals, wrote down heartfelt poems, and even got all dolled up just for the occasion. he showed up to your door with a bouquet of flowers, lifting your hand to brush against his lips, escorting you by the arm to his transportation, just the whole thing. like damn you’re not even in public yet. relax.

at the restaurant, he grabbed your hands suddenly, turning you to face him. he began to go on about how much he loved you, and how much your moments together meant to him. he lowered himself onto one knee, pulling the velvet box out of his pockets. you are presented with a REAL ring (not the fake one you offered, nono), with a glittering stone on top. this was an act, yet even you believed it was real for a moment. you accept his proposal before he suddenly pulled you in with his lips nearly against yours.

he pulls back, the sounds of tears from the waiter and compliments from other customers being the only sounds made in the moment. he plays it off like it was nothing, yet you felt yourself overheating at his bold acts. if this is how far he’ll go for an act, imagine how far he’ll go for the real thing.

ate his meal like nothing happened. you were the one who couldn’t eat.

jade, vil, rook, lilia che’nya

YOU HAD HIM THE SECOND YOU SPOKE ; YOU PROPOSE

yes. you didn’t even need to finish your sentence, it’s a yes. he’ll do it. ohhh propose! sure! he’ll do it right now! what? later? okay! wait, just pretend? ah. he sees now. while a little disappointed that this was just for a free meal, he’ll still do it. it’s basically real if you act like it is, right? whatever! you asked him to do this, meaning you must like him enough right? he’s excited now just thinking about! don’t worry about anything, he’s got it all figured out!

or he thought he did. you grab his hand as you wore a charming smile on your face. you spoke of fond memories you had of him and moments you’ve had together (that didn’t actually happen) which just gave him butterflies. he was such anice outgoing and cheery person, yet, this is the first time he just can’t find the words. as you asked for his hand in marriage, he felt his heart skip a beat before accepting gracefully. as you both hear your congratulations, finished your meal, and left the restaurant, he refused to take the ring off of his finger. he’ll wear it forever. it’ll look very nice with the real one he got you when it’s his turn to propose.

pookie please take the ring off it made a dent in your finger

floyd, kalim, neige

YOU HAD HIM AT FREE FOOD

free? food? now those are words ruggie likes to hear in the same sentence. AND ITS A FANCY RESTAURANT? sign. him. up. there’s proposal involved? cool. while he’s also really into that, he seemed more interested in what kind of foods they give out for free yknow what im saying?

will it be authentic sunset savanna dishes? scalding sands dishes? foods from the shaftlands? cmon, just spit it out. it’s not that he doesn’t care! you actually did catch him off guard with that proposal bit. he’s just really excited for the food part. when he saw the restaurant, he could already tell the food was going to be good.

as the proposal goes along, yada, yada, yada, the dinner is presented on the table. was he in heaven? did he die? cause holy crappp.. getting to become his crushes fiancé while also eating good was his idea of paradise! and this was just one restaurant that did this? what about the others? you can’t just leave em hanging! when you guys actually propose to each other, he’ll definitely want to do it in another fancy restaurant.

ruggie

A/N: hey guys im back (god damn that’s a lot of tags)

date published: 8/16/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[liliavanrougelover]

Kill it with fire!

Summary: You ask them to kill a bug

Characters: All NRC students + RSA students (platonic or romantic, your choice)

Warnings: Bugs

A/N: First work with Che'nya and Neige! Lets go.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Doesn’t kill bugs, it makes a mess. He traps them in a glass and throws them outside.

Trey Clover:

Simply squashes it. Usually with his shoe. If he has to use his hands, he washes them after. (AKA he’s sane.)

Cater Diamond:

Nope, nope, nope. You have to kill it. He refuses to go near bugs. If neither of you want to kill it, Cater gets Trey to do it.

Ace Trappola:

Just kills it. And brags about how well he protected you.

Deuce Spade:

He doesn’t want to hurt bugs, so he uses a glass to throw it outside.

Leona Kingscholar:

Kills it without hesitation. Unless, you woke him up for it. Can’t you do it yourself? It’s just a bug. He kills it anyway.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Eats it. OR, makes you pay him for killing it. Sometimes both.

Jack Howl:

Kills it. Normally. Like a sane person.

Azul Ashengrotto:

NO! He hates bugs too. If he must kill it, he better get something in return.

Jade Leech:

He finds it amusing that you’re scared of bugs. He better get something in return for killing it for you.

Floyd Leech:

Depends on his mood. If he’s in a good mood, he kills it and expects something in return for his services. If he’s in a bad mood, he tells you to do it yourself. If he’s in an unhinged mood, he eats it.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Doesn’t kill it. He puts a glass over it and throws it outside

Jamil Viper:

You DID NOT just ask HIM to kill a bug. The moment you point out the bug, he’s out of that room. Nuh-uh, no way, not a chance. If you really need to, ask Kalim.

Vil Schoenheit:

Puts a glass over it and throws it out.

Rook Hunt:

Grabs it with his BARE HAND. He tells you all about it with it in his hand. He then throws it outside. Insane.

Epel Felmier:

Oh yeah! Killing bugs is so masculine! Stomps it to make sure it’s dead. He looks at you with a proud smile afterwards. He did so good!

Idia Shroud:

He has Ortho, Ortho has laser eyes. He doesn’t need to take care of the bugs when Ortho takes care of the bugs. AKA, uses his brother as a bug exterminator.

Ortho Shroud:

Laser eyes.

Malleus Draconia:

Oh, you want him to kill a bug? Okay. *Proceeds to blow up half of the building.*

Lilia Vanrouge:

Did you know that bugs have a lot of protein? Back when he fought in the war, he ate bugs when the soldiers were short on food. In short, he eats it.

Silver Vanrouge:

Throws it outside with a cup. Thanks for being normal, Silver.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Stomps it until it's mush. How dare that bug terrorize his human. It must pay with its life.

Che’nya:

Messes with you by picking it up with his bare hand and shoving it at you. Ends up eating it when he’s done terrorizing you.

Neige Leblanche:

Cup method. And he’s super gentle too. He sets it down outside and is just like, “Goodbye, little buddy.” Such a silly guy <3

[twstowo]

Kissing Their Foreheads [Rollo, Che'nya and Neige]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.

♡︎Reader is from Noble Bell College in Rollo’s part and from Royal Sword Academy in Neige's part

♡︎I feel that I wrote so much more for these guys than the rest…my bad?

[First Years]☆[Second Years]☆[Third Years]☆[One final forehead kiss]☆[Here]

⋆⋅☆Rollo:

You have no idea how you ended up in this situation, but here you are, stuck in the same room with Rollo Flamme while he is giving you the chills. To be fair, he always had those dead eyes, but surely he isn’t mad at you, right? He doesn't want to burn you or anything... That’s just how his face looks all the time.

Well, you're not so sure about that anymore because now he is approaching you! And he is getting way too close for your comfort. You can hear yourself gulping from the nervousness.

You don’t even know why you’re reacting this way. You and Rollo were somewhat close; you’d dare to call him a friend by now, though you’re not sure he sees you that way. The two of you always ended up studying together after classes. Whenever you had trouble understanding a subject, Rollo would always help you out. He wasn’t that bad of a person once you got to know him.

However, he still had those questionable morals of his, and right now, he didn’t seem very happy. He kept ranting about the students from Night Raven College and by the Seven! He seemed particularly mad at this Malleus Draconia, and he had kept on rumbling about him for the past hours.

At this point, you had just shaken off your feeling of unease. You knew that Rollo was probably just stressed about wanting everything to be perfect for the new students. Yes, that had to be it! In fact, you were starting to pity his state.

So, without thinking about your own actions, as Rollo sat down next to you to continue your study session, you took hold of his face and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. As you leaned back in your seat, realizing what you had done, you noticed that Rollo was as embarrassed by your actions as you were. Both of your cheeks had a pink tint as you stared at each other, and now you had no idea of how to get out of this situation.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Che’nya:

There you were, invited to an unbirthday party by Riddle himself. You were having lots of fun eating and drinking while talking with your friends when, out of nowhere, Che’nya decided to show up and scared the living daylights out of you with his floating head.

And that wasn’t all. He seemed to have enjoyed your reaction so much that it turned into a contest to see how high you could jump when he scared you. Not fun. Not fun at all.

The second time his head popped up, you spilled your tea all over your clothes. You had to excuse yourself from the party to wash your shirt.

The third time, you almost stumbled against one of the pink flamingos. You swore that if Che’nya hadn't vanished right away, you would have hit him with one of those.

By the fourth time, you were ready to just run away from the party. But you were having such a fun time with the rest of your friends that you didn’t want Che’nya’s antics to get to you. You really needed to find a way to get payback—something that would surprise him so much that he would no longer pester you.

So, by the fifth time he showed up, you didn’t think twice. You grabbed hold of his floating head, not wanting him to escape. Che’nya had a huge grin plastered on his face, and you were so annoyed by his attitude. You did the most unthinkable thing you could think of: you kissed his forehead.

For the rest of the day, Che’nya didn’t annoy you anymore.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Neige:

By now, you and Neige had become pretty close friends. Not that it was very difficult—the guy was a ball of sunshine. He was also such a hard worker, helping out the dwarfs, studying for exams, training for his acting gigs; overall, he was always filled with work. Yet he always made time for the two of you to be together.

You always tried helping him out, whether by summarizing some of the content from your classes to help him study better or by making his lunch so that he could fully focus on his own stuff.

Neige always appreciated your help, even when he kept on saying how much he didn’t want you to overwork yourself because of him. You never listened to him.

One day, you found Neige, the ball of sunshine always full of energy, knocking at your dorm room. Normally, he would send you a message when he had free time; he never showed up without warning. And by the uncharacteristic dark circles under his eyes and that quivering smile of his, you knew he was tired. So you let him in, and you let him rest in your bed as you cuddled him, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead to help him relax.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ green is the color of envy (and poison)

type of post: fic characters: neige, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, vague possessiveness maybe angst idk, oooh drama author's note: I wanted a break from headcanons and had this strange urge to do a character study for neige. here I am, writing this at midnight

Neige Leblanche does not hate Vil Schoenheit.

The thought had not even occurred to him.

In fact, if you had even asked as much, his wide, doe-like eyes would fill with pretty tears, and he would ask you, in a trembling voice, if you really thought of him so cruelly.

Neige Leblanche did not hate anyone. On the contrary, he had so much love, it practically overflowed from him, touching the ground at his feet and imprinting itself on everything he held.

He was, for all intents and purposes, a vision of loveliness, a sunrise, morning dew on the petal of a white lily. He would have gladly, if you asked him, plucked each star out of the sky for you, written you a thousand songs, laid himself at your feet in adoration.

He was cupid, a chubby-faced, blushing cherub.

He had been content, for a time. Happy, even, with his little life, the family and career he had built with his own two hands, though you wouldn't know it from their softness.

Then, there was you.

You. You. The magicless prefect of Night Raven College. An otherworldly being. A hero.

You. So kindhearted, always gentle with the first years and animals. So polite, with him and his friends. So brave, facing danger and coming out unscathed. Your hope and gratefulness despite your circumstances reminded him, in a way, of himself.

There was no other explanation for it. You were sent for him.

Neige had simply never been so sure of anything. It felt right. It felt perfect. You were the one he'd been waiting for. You were his.

After the VDC, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You! You were perfect for him, his soulmate, and he didn't need to know you to know that. He'd never felt like this before, after all. It must be love.

You feel it too, don't you?

Limb by limb, he sews together a ragdoll of you in his mind. Something simple. Soft. Beautiful. Something for his thoughts to play with. He gives you a sword, one day, and he makes you a knight. He dresses you in the finest of silks, and he makes you a noble. He pushes up the corners of your sewn-together mouth, and he makes you smile back at him.

You're kind. You're brave. You're loving. You're loyal. You're chivalrous. You're anything he could want or need, anything at all, because you're his.

Why would fate lead him to someone who wasn't already perfect?

And, oh, how he wants to pick you flowers. Neige will make you breakfast in bed, and sing for you. Everyone loves him; and he loves everyone. But it isn't enough. You're his soulmate. Don't you know?

Why do you keep looking at each other like that.

You're so friendly, just like Neige, always so eager to please. Right? That's what it is. Right?

There could be no other reason for you and Vil Schoenheit to look at each other like that. As if you know something that Neige doesn't. As if you're having a conversation with only your eyes. What is that? What does it mean?

Why does he feel so comfortable touching you?

A hand on the small of your back, an arm around your waist. He corrects your posture with both hands on your shoulders. He taps your thigh when you're distracted. He holds your face in both palms to scold you for smudging the eyeliner he had so tediously put on you before coming here...

Why do you smile at him when he lectures you? Why does he smile back?

This strange, dizzying feeling, this tightness in Neige's chest, this unwelcomed weight, can't just be confusion.

He can only lie to himself for so long.

You feel it, too... don't you? Don't you get butterflies when you look at him? Don't you feel dizzy? Don't you think of him?

Vil murmurs something in your ear with a sly smile, and you laugh.

And you haven't even looked at Neige once yet. The thought makes him clench his fists under the table.

As this new, painful weight settles in his stomach, a dizzying thought sits with it.

Neige Leblanche is jealous.

Of Vil Schoenheit.

[dotster001]

How they Get You under the Mistletoe, Part Two

Summary: Staff and Non NRC students x gn! Reader

A/N: IT IS 11:54 ON DECEMBER 25TH, SO I FINISHED THIS ON TIME LET'S FUCKING GO!

Part One

CW:It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age. Also, use of alcohol in Crewel's part.

Dire Crowley

Rage Bait

The ghosts thought they were helping. They had decorated Ramshackle, and you were having a holiday party before your friends left for winter break. But they'd also put up mistletoe. And every time you tried to take it down, they'd float up and move it farther out of reach.

“Surely there's a special someone who'll be here tonight,” one of them said with a giggle.

“We just don't want you to regret not making a move, when you're our ages,” another one said with paternal softness.

You grumbled and stormed back over to the party, which was quickly getting out of hand. The later it got, more people showed up, and now there were more strangers than friends in your living space. And as though that wasn't bad enough-

“Prefect!”

You groaned when you heard the headmage’s voice. You turned around from the broken glass you were sweeping up, and sighed.

“What can I do for you, headmage?”

“I consider myself very generous, and can overlook a simple celebration, but this is out of hand.”

“Yah think?” You shouted, gesturing at the fight that had just broken out in the corner.

“How do you plan to shut it down?”

“I'm working on it!” You snapped, walking away with a dustpan full of glass, ready to sweep up the newest disaster.

“I have an idea,” he said, half a step behind you, not missing a single beat, despite the crowd doing its darndest to separate you.

“What is it?” You said, only half listening as you set down the dustpan.

He grabbed your arm, yanking you to the side.

“Kiss me,” he said with a wicked grin.

“What the fuck!”

He smirked even deeper, pointing up. And there was the mistletoe from earlier….but you could have sworn it was over there….

You made eye contact with one of the ghosts who winked at you.

“H-how is that gonna help?” You stuttered.

“Surely, your peers would find it unsettling to see the Headmage kissing his lover.”

“Lover?” You rolled your eyes. “You're not my lover-”

“But you'd like me to be,” his eyes twinkled.

“You don't even give me enough money to reward Grim when he actually passes a test.”

“Doesn't matter. I'm a handsome man. You can't say you're resistant to my charms.”

You pulled out of his grip and snapped.

“Oh please! If I was going to go for any of the staff, I'd go for Crewel!”

“Really?” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you're too scared to kiss me.”

“What!”

“You're worried that if you kiss me, you'll be forced to accept your feelings.”

“Shut up!”

“I'm a very generous lover-”

You slammed your lips against his, angrily. He kissed back with just as much force, his hands twining in your hair. The anger turned quickly to passion, and you were soon overwhelmed by the feelings inside you, shoving him away from you as you pressed your hands to your open mouth in shock.

He smirked, and you realized no one was in your dorm, except Ace, who was staring in complete disgust.

Divus Crewel

Double dog dare you

Vargas and Sam were both drinking with Crewel at the staff holiday party. It was meant to be a calm relaxed evening. But you'd shown up to interrogate the Headmage about something, and now Sam and Ashton were acting like fools.

“C'mon, man up!”

“We know you want to.”

“Gentlemen, please, let's be professional,” Divus grumbled as he threw back his glass.

“They aren't in your class anymore!”

“And my friends say that they are head over heels for you.”

“C'mon man up!”

“If you say man up one more time!” Divus scowled.

“If you don't, he will,” Sam snickered, pointing at Crowley, who did, indeed, seem to be trying to huddle you over to the mistletoe that someone had decided to put up for some reason. Though, the longer Crowley was shifting you, the clearer it became that this was a malicious plot.

“I dare you to swoop them up from under his wing, and give them a kiss they'll never forget,” Vargas said childishly.

Divus looked over at you, snatched Sam's drink, chugged it down, then stormed over to the both of you, buoyed on by the cheers of his friends.

“Scuse me Headmage,” he slurred, yanking you to him and kissing you sloppily.

…

…

…

When he woke up the next morning with a killer hangover, he would have thought it was all a dream. Until he saw you sleeping in a chair by his bed, holding a bucket full of vomit.

Mozus Trein

The Parent Trap

He'd invited you to the holiday party at his estate in the country. He thought it would be a low key way to introduce you to his daughters. If you got overwhelmed, you could blend into the crowd, or hide in his guest room upstairs, and no one would even notice you'd slipped away.

His daughters were a little too excited that he was dating again.

“Papa, you gotta!”

“It would be so romantic!”

The good news was, they liked you. Unfortunately (fortunately?) they might have been a little too excited.

“I'm not going to pull them away from the party, just to kiss them under a leaf,” he said with a glare.

“Don't worry, you don't have to pull them away!” Ania said with a smile, pulling out her magic pen. Unfortunately (fortunately?) Ania was incredibly gifted with flora magic. Materializing mistletoe above the two of you would be simple.

“I absolutely forbid it,” he hissed.

“Y/N! Over here please!” Darleen called to you. You politely excused yourself from the conversation you were having, and walked over to the group, eying his children nervously. Your gut instincts were definitely right.

“You don't have to-” Ania covered Trein’s mouth with her hand, giggling excitedly.

“What's going on?” You asked, eying him in concern.

“Just stand right there!” Darleen said, both daughters taking three steps back, before Ania quickly muttered a spell. You looked up and saw the mistletoe, your eyes widening. You looked over to his daughters, but they were already running away, hiding in the crowd.

You looked at Trein, feeling your cheeks warm as he stared at you with an empty expression on his face.

“We don't have to-”

He said, gently taking your hand in his, caressing the back with his thumb.

“I would be a fool not to accept this gift,” he said, sounding bitter, but there was light in his eyes. You smiled softly, and he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Ashton Vargas

Decoration Team

He'd somehow tricked you into decorating the employee lounge with him. You always thought he was more brawn than brains, but this wasn't the first time he'd tricked you into manual labor, so maybe you were the dumb one.

“Hah! Good work!” He slapped your back affectionately, and you stumbled into the table you were decorating, causing a couple of the tchotchkes you'd just placed to tumble forward. You frowned, and sighed, but he laughed again.

“Forget the table. I need you for something,” he snatched your wrist, dragging you to a corner of the room. Then, with absolutely no warning, he picked you up, and placed you on his shoulders. You gripped his head, absolutely terrified that you'd tumble.

“Don't worry. I got you. That's why I built up these muscles!” He momentarily let go of your left thigh to flex. This did not ease your panic.

He reached into his pocket and handed you something.

“Hang that on the ceiling right above ya! Let me know when you're finished.”

You stared at the mistletoe, and sighed. The sooner you put it up, the sooner he'd put you down.

“So, uh, is this a popular decoration for a staff party?” You asked, trying to ease your anxiety through conversation.

“Nah.”

“Nah? Done, by the way.”

He gently let you down from his shoulders, then turned you to face him.

“This won't get much use at the party. This decoration is for my….personal…enjoyment,” he purred as he took your chin in his hand.

Sam

*Gasp* you tripped!

Sam's shop always had weird things. But definitely the weirdest thing it had at the moment was the out of control mistletoe bush. A student had bought it, tried to cast a spell on it, then promptly returned it when he realized it was growing beyond his control. Normally, Sam had a strict no return policy. But he'd stared at it for moment, then agreed to the return.

It was the end of the night, and he was finally getting around to fixing it. He was simply staring at it, trying to puzzle out how to clean it up. You were staying far away. Partially because the monstrosity the mistletoe had become was horrifying beyond the realms of imagination, but also because….

You know…

Mistletoe.

Not that Sam wasn't unbelievably attractive. It just would be awkward if you both ended up near it. And Sam was a professional. He'd probably just laugh lightly and send you on your way. But still…it would be awkward.

Right?

“Sam,” you said, but he was so engrossed, he didn't hear you.

“Sam, I'm gonna clock out-” you had taken a step forward, but tripped over what felt like an outstretched leg, right into his arms.

“Ah! Are you alright, my little imp?” His voice sounded concerned, but the expression on his face didn't quite match.

“Y-yeah,” you said, trying to pretend you didn't notice just where you both were standing. He looked you up and down, rubbing your arms, as though looking for any injuries.

“You're certain?”

The mistletoe creature thing wrapped around the two of you, and you stiffened as you were pushed closer together. You tried to keep your mind off of the muscle you were feeling under his clothes.

“I know how to fix this. But should I?”

“Huh?” You gasped, mildly horrified about the implications.

“I can get out of this easily, but I could leave you as a sacrifice to the mistletoe.”

“What!”

He snickered. “Or we can make a deal.”

Uh oh. You've seen him do this to other people, but never to you….

“Sam, you write my paycheck. You know I don't have any money to give you.”

“I don't want money. But you do have something I want,” he leaned in so that your noses were pressing together. ��I'd like your heart. Think that's a deal you can make?”

Neige le Blanche

Marketing Campaign

After the SDC, Neige had pushed to get his manager to take you on. And now you were a notable up and comer, doing projects with Neige.

This campaign was for a cologne. It was winter themed, with hints of cinnamon and cloves, and Neige was to be the figurehead of the campaign. But he'd been insistent that you be his partner in this ad. You hadn't tested the product, you hadn't received a script or any information, other than the fancy outfit you'd been given for the photo.

Your manager was quickly giving you the rundown as hair and makeup worked on you, and you were just kind of nodding along, until,

“Wait, say that again?”

“You're going to be kissing his neck while you stand under the mistletoe?” Your manager said.

You stiffened, earning a scolding from your makeup guy for wrinkling your forehead.

“I know it's a big jump for his image, but your face will be at an angle, so you might not be associated with the image cha-”

“Does Neige know about this?” You asked, your voice squeaking a little.

“Yes. Of course he knows,” you manager rolled her eyes, before continuing with the brief.

Your manager continued briefing you, but you felt light headed and couldn't focus on her words.

Now that you were on the photo set, you stood stiffly waiting for the photographer to pose you.

“Sorry, Y/N, I meant to tell you about the shift in my image, but I forgot.”

Would it be unprofessional to say that it wasn't the image shift that had you tense?

“Don't worry about it, Neige,” you tried to laugh it off, but quickly you were being positioned for the photo, Neige tilting his head back, fully exposing his neck, where it was implied that he had used the cologne from the campaign.

You were positioned with your lips pressed to his neck. You really doubted you even needed makeup for this shot, your face was barely visible, but whatever.

“I'm really sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, barely moving his lips as the camera whirred.

“Don't worry about it,” you whispered into his neck.

“Alright, slowly kiss up his neck, then you're gonna grab his hair and kiss him. Slowly. We want to do this in one take,” the photographer said. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you made eye contact with Neige, whose cheeks were slightly pink.

“Sorry,” he breathed hoarsely.

“It's fine,” you whispered, following instructions, slowly, and kissing him, the taste of apples invading your mouth.

“Got it!” The photographer shouted, and you both separated quickly.

The photographer grinned at the photos on his camera, then raised that smile to you, giving you a wink.

“You were right, Neige, they were perfect for this one!”

You turned to Neige, your eyes wide, and you noticed he was heavily avoiding eye contact, his face bright red.

Rollo Flamme

Purity check

Can you tell from how I write him that I have religious trauma? 😂

Now that you'd been studying at NBC for a semester-long exchange program, you realized how close you'd grown to him. But still, sometimes you felt like you needed him to back off. You weren't a child, you could do what you wanted. Including-

“It's none of your business if I made out with someone!”

“There are rules to be followed on this campus. I don't know how they did things at NRC, but we have standards here.”

“Look! I didn't make out with anyone! And if I did, I don't need to tell you about it!”

You both glared at each other. He broke first.

“Come,” he said, grabbing your arm, and pulling you to the corner of the room where the mistletoe hung. He shot a glare at the couple that was using it, and they ran.

Come to think of it….this whole party was illegal. Why was he zeroing in on you? How was that fair?

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

“What!” You shouted, and his glare deepened.

“If you're worried about appearances, we are under the mistletoe, so it would be socially acceptable.”

“That's not-”

“Kiss me, and prove that you haven't been illegally kissing someone while at an illegal party,” he looked so fucking smug. Like he knew he'd won.

“How is that going to prove-”

“I'll taste someone on you. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

“Everyone here is kissing people-”

“You're here to purify you from those mage’s poison-”

“You're insufferable!”

“Please just kiss him!” You'd forgotten the vice president was with him, too caught up in the anger you were filled with. “If you just do it, we can all go home! Please!”

You both glared at each other, then you sighed, and kissed him. When you pulled away, he pursed his lips, eying you up and down, his cheeks dusted in pink.

“Return to your dorm within the hour, and you won't receive detention.”

And then he waltzed out as though nothing happened.

Chenya

…I'm praying for your soul….

“Mwahahaha!”

You stiffened. You knew that laughter. He was here. You'd locked every door and window, just in case. You'd told him you were spending a quiet night in, when he'd stolen Ace's phone to text you. And you intended it to stay that way.

But that voice was nearby…

You grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa, preparing for the moment he would appear.

You felt something smack you in the face. You looked at the thing that hit you, that had fallen to your feet. You picked it up, rolling it around in your hands, before your eyes widened.

“Mwahahaha!”

“Wait…” you whispered, the implications of the mistletoe in your hands finally hitting.

The mistletoe was yanked from your hands, by an invisible monster. It reappeared above you, then a mouth was on yours. He tastes like stolen strawberries, and one too many desserts. The lips left yours, and you felt him disappear again. Then his tail appeared, wrapping around you, as you felt him set his chin on your shoulder, a purr making your heart rate calm.

“Mmm you're delicious. Glad I stole that little toy from Riddle,” he giggled.

“He doesn't know you're here, right?” You whispered.

“Hee hee,” he vanished with that giggle, as you heard.

“Y/N L/N! Relinquish the thief!”

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir @lucifer5lucy

[married-to-google-translater]

Neige has a crush on cool and chill reader

Neige gets poisoned and reader kisses him (not because they like him but to save his life)

he thinks they are their true love and his prince in shining armed and becomes clingy and Yandere.

Reader is bit creeped out but too nice too say.

Yandere Neige Leblanche

It would be love at first sight.

At least for Neige.

He met you while visiting NRC.

And something about you caught his eye immediately.

Probably your coolness was something new to him.

And that interested Neige.

However, at the beginning he kept his feelings to himself.

Neige would be too shy to admit feelings.

He wouldn't want to ruin the friendship you had made.

And it worked.

Until THAT day came.

THE day everything changed.

(And not necessarily for the better.)

Someone had managed to poison Neige.

Probably some delusional fan who wanted to heal Neige with their kiss.

Or Vil who was having a nervous breakdown because he had to see Neige's face almost every day.

No one is sure XD

But the only way to poisoning would be true love's kiss.

And you wanted to help your friend.

Even though you were sure it wouldn't work you wanted to try to save Neige.

Friendship is also kind of love, isn't it?

And miraculously it would work.

This would change everything.

Neige would now believe that you were her true love.

It was your destiny to be together.

And nothing could separate you.

Neige would become much more clingy and possessive.

He would like to be with you all the time, do different date things and hug you all the time.

You've been trying to say that maybe this relationship isn't what you're looking for… And Neige refuses to hear those words.

He would love you so much.

And even though Neige seemed sweet, there was something strange about him.

And you didn't want to provoke him and find out what it was.

[lemonrin-i]

"In truth, Neige had never left that forest. The darkness, the eyes, the hands. He was always surrounded by those who wanted to grab him and tear him apart until he was unrecognizable and he had almost let it

But Neige needn't fear the darkness anymore, for he had found his light"

- Fairest of Them All

Special thanks to @pawnyao for this beautiful piece, it was very much worth the price!!

[cupids-chamber]

— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .

— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡

The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 

He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 

Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 

Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”

Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 

“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.

Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 

"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 

"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 

Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter

♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#691 Salt Wins

Neige*Pouting cutely sitting in a circle of salt on RSA campus*

Che'nya*Passing by and raises brow*Why are you sitting in a circle of salt?~

Neige: Oh...My Partner's a demon and im mad at them-

Che'nya: Oh noo~-*Saw all of sudden it got dark and floor quacked all of sudden*!?!

Demonic!Yuu*In your Giant Demonic Eldrich form, twisting your head in an unhuman way, black irises and red pupils, hitting the ground with your claws a deep mangled voice roars*UURRRRGJH YOU CANT SIT INSIDE THAT BARRIER FOR EVER!?!

Neige*Pouts just as angry pointing at you* -YOU STOP DOING YOUR BLOOD HARVEST AND THEN WE SHALL TALK!!!

Che'nya*Shacking in fright seeing you hovering above them*!?!?

part 8 of:

[cloudcountry]

uh neige with a reader who's hyperfixation is fairy tales! >:3

SUMMARY: neige with a reader that likes fairy tales!

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: the first neige request!!!

TAGLIST: @axvwriter

This can go one of two ways. Either you’re fixated on the cheery cutesy retellings of fairy tales (which Neige adores), or you’re fixated on the original fairy tales that make him have nightmares some nights. Either way, he will love you.

If it’s the former, he’d be happy to read them to you and with you! Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if he and the Dwarves read each other stories regularly. You can absolutely join in and make silly hand puppets and voices with them! Neige tells you over and over that they’d be happy to have you. <3

If it’s the latter, Neige will still support you! Honestly I think he’s a horror geek. Like people would expect him to be scared but he can recount the most gory of moments without batting an eye. It’s the sad tales that get him.

If you ever bring up how he reminds you of Snow White (because he literally IS) he’ll blush and swat the notion away. You think I can measure up to such a beautiful and kind princess? You’re too much!

Neige would listen to you ramble with hearts in his eyes and a dreamy sigh. You know how in older movies the love interest will rest their cheek on their fist and sigh as they sink down so the skin of their cheek bunches up against their knuckles? I hope I explained that right because that's exactly what he’d do.

One day, Neige will ask you what kind of prince you like the best. When you laugh and say that it’s him, the only prince you could ever want, you swear you see hearts and butterflies flying around his head. He’s so in love with you.

[solxamber]

Chasing Fairytales || Neige LeBlanche

Neige is convinced that you're either allergic to him specifically or he's done something to offend you with the way you're avoiding him. You're just trying not to get blinded by his smile.

Neige LeBlanche is baffled. Every time he sees you, your face contorts like you just bit into a lemon dipped in hot sauce while sitting on a cactus. It's a new look, and honestly, it worries him. You used to at least smile at him, maybe even nod, like normal people do. But now? Now, you treat him like he’s carrying some weird medieval plague.

He thinks back to every interaction. Did he step on your foot? Spill something on you? No, nothing comes to mind. One day you were acquaintances—maybe even teetering on the edge of friendship—and the next, you were bolting out of rooms faster than a cat hearing a vacuum.

Which brings him to his current situation: sitting in the house he shares with his friends. They’re all squished together on the couch, and Neige is surrounded by blank stares. These guys are his sounding board, but right now, they’re as useful as a broken umbrella in a hurricane.

“Did you sneeze on them?” Grum suggests, not even looking up from his game console.

“No, no, that wouldn’t be it,” Dominic pipes up, adjusting his glasses. “Maybe you accidentally sent them a weird text? Like one of those autocorrect disasters?”

Neige shakes his head, thoroughly confused. “I haven’t texted them anything strange…”

Hop, sitting cross-legged on the floor, nods sagely. “Maybe they saw you at a buffet once and you took the last of the mashed potatoes. People hold grudges over that kind of stuff.”

Timmy just blushes and mumbles something unintelligible while Snick chimes in with, “Could it be allergies? Maybe they’re allergic to you?”

At this point, Neige is spiraling. Allergies? Mashed potatoes? Is there a secret mashed potato incident he forgot about?

Toby simply taps Neige’s shoulder, holding up a drawing of two people holding hands with a big smiley face. Neige squints at it and tries to translate Toby's silent wisdom. “So… I should hold their hand? Is that what you’re saying?”

The group falls silent for a moment, pondering this profound suggestion. Then Shelpie yawns and says, “Maybe you’re just overthinking it. People are weird.”

Neige sighs, still no closer to figuring out why you’ve suddenly started acting like he’s carrying the plague.

Neige comes back to the club room after a long day of shooting and classes, ready to grab his bag and head home. As he's packing up, something catches his eye—a boxed lunch sitting right there on his desk. He blinks at it, confused. Is this...lost and found material? Was someone in too much of a hurry and just ditched it here?

But then he sees the note. "I’m cheering for you, Neige!" followed by a heart and a little smiley face. The handwriting is unmistakable—it’s yours. He stares at it, even more confused now, and kinda flattered too.

He scratches his head, wondering if he's entered some bizarre alternate universe where the person who avoids him like he's contagious is also sending him homemade lunches. "What did I do to deserve this?" he mumbles to himself, half expecting a hidden camera crew to pop out and yell “Surprise!”

Another day, Neige is stranded on campus, waiting for the rain to stop. His umbrella? Oh yeah, he gave that to a girl with a cold earlier because he's just that nice. Now he’s soaking and shivering under a tree, watching the downpour like it personally offended him.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps and sees you walking by, your jacket pulled tightly around you. It's the perfect chance to finally talk to you, to maybe say thanks for the mystery lunch. He smiles at you, hoping this might be the icebreaker he’s been waiting for.

Your reaction? You freeze like you’ve just seen a ghost, eyes wide and panicked, and before he can even get a "Hey, how are you?" out, you launch your umbrella at him like it's a grenade. "Wha—?" he barely gets the word out before you're gone, running away with your jacket awkwardly balanced over your head like a makeshift hood.

Neige stands there, soaked and confused, holding your umbrella and thinking, "We could have shared that, you know…"

The next day, he spots you again, this time crouched in the courtyard, petting a cat. You're cooing at it, making all those weird sounds people make when they think no one's watching, and the cat?

It's loving it, basking in the attention like it's at a spa. Neige sees an opportunity to approach—no rain this time, no excuses. He kneels beside you, reaching out to pet the cat too. "Cute, isn’t it?" he says, smiling softly.

You, on the other hand, barely look at him. "Yes, cat," you mumble like it's some kind of mantra, eyes darting nervously. Then you do a quick check of your phone and blurt out, “Oh no, I’m late for our class!” before bolting upright and sprinting off like a marathon runner.

Neige watches you go, utterly perplexed. "That class is in five hours," he says to the cat, who just looks up at him with a smug purr, like it's in on some cosmic joke that Neige will never understand.

Neige is lost. He's been called naive before, but this? This is a whole new level of confusion. And maybe—just maybe—a little heartbreak. You used to treat him like an actual person, not just a walking photoshoot waiting to happen.

Now? You're acting like he’s got some sort of rare, contagious celebrity plague, the kind of thing you’d catch from standing too close to a red carpet. Every time you see him, your face scrunches up like you just bit into an entire lemon, rind and all.

He’s walking through campus when he spots you with Vil. Now, Neige likes Vil. He admires him, even. Dreams of the day they’ll sit together, drink tea, and discuss which highlighter makes you look “ethereal but approachable.”

But right now, all he sees is you laughing and waving your hands like you’re auditioning for a role in a one-person circus, and Vil? He’s smiling at you like you’ve just told the funniest joke on the planet. And Neige feels something... alien.

It’s not heartburn from that extra-large mocha frappuccino he had earlier—no, this is worse. His stomach twists, his heart sinks, and it’s official: Neige, the cinnamon roll of the universe, is jealous.

Back home, he gathers his trusty team of consultants: Timmy, Toby, and the rest of the gang, who are sitting around the table, looking like they’re about to solve world hunger or invent a new kind of pizza. Neige dumps the whole story on them, his head in his hands.

“And then,” Neige groans, “they just ran away, like I had some kind of... I don’t know... ‘Famous-People-itis!’”

Timmy leans back, strokes his chin with all the fake wisdom of someone who has never solved a problem in his life, and says, “Neige, it’s obvious.”

Neige perks up. “It is?”

“Oh yeah.” Timmy nods solemnly, like he’s about to deliver a TED Talk. “They’re sick.”

Neige stares at him. “Sick?”

Hop jumps in, wide-eyed like he’s just cracked the code to the universe. “Yeah! It’s so clear! They’ve got a classic case of... uh... ‘Stage-Fright-itis.’ Happens all the time when regular folks meet people like you.”

Neige blinks. “That’s... not a thing.”

Hop waves him off, undeterred. “Totally a thing. Maybe they’re allergic to fame. It’s like how some people get hives around cats. You’re like a walking award show, man. Just your presence makes people break out in nervous sweats.”

Dominic nods sagely. “Or worse. They could’ve caught ‘Starstruck Syndrome.’”

Timmy gasps, clearly thrilled by this new theory. “Yes! Classic symptoms: sudden avoidance, inability to make eye contact, randomly throwing umbrellas at you instead of saying hello—textbook case.”

Neige stares between them, confused but desperate. “So... you think they’re avoiding me because they’re sick? Like, fame-sick?”

Snick shrugs. “I mean, what else could it be? You’re Neige LeBlanche, man! Maybe they’re just overwhelmed by your... Neigeness.”

Neige feels like he’s fallen into some kind of alternate reality where this actually makes sense. He nods slowly, trying to absorb it. “Okay, so... they’re not mad at me? They’re just... allergic to me?”

Timmy grins. “Exactly! Just give it time. Maybe bring them a cup of tea. Or like... a calming crystal. And if it gets worse, well, maybe invest in a hazmat suit. Just in case.”

You don’t know how this happened. One minute you’re chatting with Neige, all sunshine and sparkles, and the next, you wake up in a cold sweat, realizing you are absolutely, horrendously down bad for him. It’s not even subtle. It’s like a piano fell from the sky and crushed your chest with feelings.

But you? You’re... well, you. Neige is a celebrity, practically a walking ray of sunshine wrapped in a Disney Princess aura. Birds sing when he passes by, small woodland creatures would probably braid his hair if they had thumbs. And you? You’re the person who trips over their own shoes and talks to houseplants like they can solve your problems.

So, naturally, you do what any responsible person would do when faced with a crush that could upend their entire existence: you avoid him. Completely.

You’ll still be polite, of course—leave him the occasional lunch with a cute note, chuck an umbrella at him when it’s raining—but actual conversation? Nah.

That’s just asking for trouble. You’re already too attached, and the last thing you need is for this crush to grow into a full-blown romantic disaster.

One day, you’re chatting with Vil—well, "chatting" is a strong word. You’re pacing back and forth like a caffeinated squirrel, ranting about Neige and gesturing so wildly that Vil could probably make a whole meme compilation of just your hand movements.

“And he’s just so... pretty! It’s not fair! How can someone be that perfect? I swear, he’s like—like—” You flail dramatically, trying to find words for the cosmic injustice that is Neige LeBlanche.

Vil, who has been quietly sipping his tea, raises an eyebrow and watches the spectacle. At first, he’s mildly entertained. But the more you rant, the more he realizes something: you’re down bad.

You, who have somehow mastered the art of functional chaos, are completely, hopelessly in love with Neige. And Neige, poor, oblivious Neige, probably thinks you’ve contracted some rare, Neige-specific allergy.

Vil starts to laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a full-on, head-back, hand-over-mouth, this-is-the-best-day-ever laugh. He finds it hilarious that you, despite being tangled in your own feelings, have the emotional awareness of a potato. And Neige? Well, he’s just confused, which is even better.

“You’re fools,” Vil says, wiping a tear from his eye. “Both of you. Foolishly in love.”

You don’t even register his comment. You’re too busy waving your hands around, grumbling, “It’s just... it’s not fair! Why does he have to be that pretty? I mean, does he wake up with that face?”

Vil sips his tea, smirking. This is prime entertainment. And that’s when he notices Neige across the way, glancing over at you two with wide, unsure eyes. Ah, poor, innocent Neige.

With a bit of mischievous spite—and maybe a touch of pity—Vil lets out a soft sigh and shifts his expression. He stares at you with the most lovesick gaze he can muster, his eyes practically glowing with “adoration.” It’s a look straight out of a romance drama, and he knows it’s Oscar-worthy.

Neige sees it. And Vil sees him see it. The realization hits Neige like a freight train. His eyes widen, his mouth opens in a soft, shocked “O,” and Vil? Oh, Vil is living for this. The confusion, the dawning horror, the jealousy—all of it.

Neige, who probably hasn’t had a jealous bone in his body until this moment, now looks like he’s contemplating the meaning of life, death, and why Vil is looking at you like that.

Meanwhile, you’re still pacing, completely oblivious to the emotional chaos you’ve just triggered. “And another thing—how does he smell that nice all the time? It’s not normal, Vil. It’s witchcraft. I bet he’s got a secret team of scent specialists just following him around.”

Vil stifles another laugh. “Yes, yes. Quite the mystery.”

Neige, on the other hand, is staring at the two of you like you’ve just declared war. He doesn’t understand it yet, but for the first time in his life, he feels something dark and uncomfortable curl in his chest.

Vil catches his eye again and gives him the tiniest smirk. Neige stiffens.

You, still on your rant, throw your hands in the air. “I just... I don’t get it. It’s like... he’s too perfect. I can’t deal with it.” And Vil can't even muster the energy to get offended. He thinks this is prime entertainment.

Vil pats your shoulder, thoroughly amused. “Perhaps you should... have a word with him.”

You stop, finally noticing Vil’s smug grin. “What? Why?”

Vil just smirks and takes another sip of tea. “Oh, nothing. Just a hunch.”

You’ve finally decided that enough is enough. You’re going to talk to Neige. You’re not even sure what you’re going to say—probably something awkward about feelings and how he’s so perfect it makes your head spin—but the important thing is that you’ve made up your mind.

It’s time to stop running away like a scared cat and face him like a grown adult. Or, at the very least, someone who’s pretending to be a grown adult.

So, you walk to his house, your heart hammering in your chest, rehearsing about a dozen different ways to break the news. "Hey, Neige, I think I might be a little bit in love with you..." or maybe, "So, uh, funny story, I can’t look at you because you’re too attractive and it’s ruining my life."

But just as you raise your hand to knock, the door flies open, and there’s Neige, looking frazzled and... holding a hazmat suit.

“Here!” He thrusts it at you like it’s a life-saving device. You blink at the suit, then at him.

“Uh... why?”

“Because you’re allergic to me!” Neige says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.

You stare. He stares back, eyes wide and earnest, and you can’t decide whether you want to laugh or cry.

“Neige, that’s not... that’s not a thing that happens to people.”

“But you’ve been avoiding me!” he blurts, clutching the hazmat suit like it’s his last defense. “Every time I see you, you run away, or—” he frowns slightly, “—you throw things at me, like umbrellas! I just thought... maybe you were... allergic?”

You feel a pang of guilt seeing the hurt in his eyes. Here’s Neige, genuinely thinking he’s the problem, when really the only issue is that he’s so perfect it makes your brain short-circuit.

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Neige, I’m not allergic to you. I just...” You swallow, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been avoiding you because... I like you. A lot. Like, in a romantic way.”

For a moment, the world stops. Neige blinks, his face blank as his brain processes your words. Then his heart stutters, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee.

You panic. “Wait—what are you doing?!”

Is he skipping directly to a proposal? Is he about to reject you so hard he’s physically collapsing? You stare, horrified, wondering how things escalated this quickly.

But then Neige laughs, a bright, happy sound that immediately sets your heart racing in a different way. “No, no, I’m not proposing! I mean—unless you want me to—but, um, I was just going to ask if you’d be my partner.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and then before you can stop yourself, you grab him by the collar and kiss him. His lips taste like cotton candy and a dream come true, and for a moment, everything feels like a fairytale.

When you finally pull away, Neige’s smile is so blinding it’s a wonder the sun hasn’t given up trying. “I think I was... jealous?” he says, almost like he’s surprised by the revelation. “That’s never happened to me before. When I saw you with Vil... I didn’t like it.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably. “Vil? Don’t worry about him. He’s my friend. He was just messing with you for fun.”

Before Neige can respond, there’s a loud achoo from behind a nearby bush. You both turn to see his friends slowly emerge, looking sheepish. Snick is rubbing his nose, and Grum is pretending he wasn’t just crouched in the bushes like a nosy little spy.

“Well, this is awkward,” you mutter, feeling your face heat up.

But they aren’t even phased. They burst out cheering, clapping and whistling like they’ve just witnessed the grand finale of a romantic drama. You can’t help but laugh as they chant congratulations, even though you want to crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment.

Neige turns to you, smiling that bright, pure smile of his. “Maybe this is a fairytale ending after all.”

And for once, you think maybe—just maybe—you’ve finally found your happily ever after.

Masterlist

[temiizpalace]

☆┊DRESS TO IMPRESS!

SUMMARY: playing dress to impress with him!

CHARACTERS: all dorms + others

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: i feel so bad for having people with requests wait so long but im losing ideas and idk what to write 😭😭😭 please bear with me event requesters,,,,, ik i suck at this

reader gender is not mentioned, reader not specified to be yuu

VERY COMPETITIVE

if he catches you trolling it’s on sight. he takes this game very seriously, and refuses to get anything lower than 3rd. when you play together and ask to duo, he carries. you’ll see him with the most impressive and beautiful outfit you’ve ever seen and watch him lose his mind when he gets 5th. he spams poses, like in full concentration mode. also a very harsh critic. if he sees you off theme it’s an immediate 1 star, no exceptions. anytime he critiques your outfit you feel like an office worker with an overly harsh boss that demands better. he also probably has VIP. and beef with 10 year olds. (so think of when caseoh plays, but less yelling)

riddle, azul, jamil, vil, rollo

PLAYED IT AS A JOKE : IS NOW HOOKED

at first he thought it was just a dumb and silly dress up game for girls.. boy was he wrong. when he first played with you, he was expecting to hate this game to its core. he was a troller at first, purposefully making dumb outfits that don’t even match, barely adding anything to his outfit at all. suddenly, something in his mind flipped, and now he’s addicted. you’ll catch him sometimes playing his free time, teasing someone like him for playing a dress up game. not that you have room to talk. duos are fun, he likes being partners with you. he’s probably the kind of guy to vote everyone one star and then vote you five, but he expects five stars in return.

deuce, ruggie, epel, idia, skully j. graves

LOVES THE GAME

he’s played this before, he loves it! dressing up in cute outfits and watching other people dress up in cute outfits? why wouldn’t he play? and to play with you? that’s even better! wouldn’t be as competitive as the first category, but does take the game seriously. he doesn’t despise trolls, actually laughs at them sometimes. he does find it unfair they make the podium sometimes, but it’s really just a game. he loves duoing with you and wearing matching outfits, absolutely adorable! he either votes pretty fairly or votes everyone five stars depending on who they are. please play more with him, he loves this game!

cater, kalim, rook, ortho, lilia, neige

NOT THAT INTERESTED

what’s the appeal to it? it’s just playing dress up, nothing special. he’ll play once in awhile with you, but don’t expect it to be a regular thing. it’s just not his cup of tea. obviously since he doesn’t play often, his outfits are subpar. nothing podium worthy. votes pretty fairly, giving criticism and critique on other people’s outfits (though his aren’t that much better). he doesn’t mind being a duo with you, but you definitely carry. personally he thinks trollers are ruining the game and making it annoying for those who play religiously. overall, just a dress up game. would play but only if you play too.

trey, leona, jack, sebek, silver

THE TROLLER

is that one guy who has nothing on their character and walks onto the stage with no hair or makeup. skin tone is still at the default, colors on the clothes are unchanged, and it’s all on purpose too! would dress up in dumb outfits for a completely different theme and loves watching people argue about it in the chat. votes everybody one star because they’re just silly like that! absolutely cackles if he gets on the podium and loves watching the server get into fights about it. you don’t duo with him, you know better. loved playing with you, but it doesn’t seem the feeling is mutual.

ace, jade, floyd, che’nya

HOW TO POWER HANDHELD DEVICE

teach him how to use a phone first. doesn’t know how to log in to his account. when he joins the game, poor baby kept running into walls trying to put on shoes. outfits are usually incomplete or unchanged because he doesn’t know how to take off accessories or how to put them on. votes fair enough, but doesn’t ever make the podium. if you ask to duo, you’ll have to teach him cause he also doesn’t know about that either. basically just a big man baby who needs help using technology for the first time.

malleus

A/N: obsessed with this game lately (idia would know all the lana lore)

date published: 10/10/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[jester-lover]

Good day to you!

Your writing is so pleasant and calming, I wanted to see you write something short and sweet which just recently popped into my head.

Idia and whoever else you think would be fun, kissing reader who wore a sweet and sticky lip balm for the first time. What would be their reaction?

Strawberry Chapstick

Feat. Idia, Cater, and Neige, Sebek

good day to you too! thank you so much!! this was a fun post to create!

CW: fluff, embarrassment, sweetness, fem! terms

Idia

He’s actually turning pink rn

My boy finally built up the courage, the confidence, to give you a smooch, and you decide to wear the sweetest strawberry flavored chapstick???

Are you trying to KO him? Not cool, s/o, NOT COOL!

Idia lets out the cutest little abrupt gasp, before gently pushing you away and hiding his face in his hoodie

“Don’t come closer! Your normie tricks will never work on me!”

He’ll eventually crawl his miserable, wet cat looking self closer to you again, trying his best to be nonchalant as he attempts to kiss you again

Plz don’t mind him, he’s never felt the loving touch of a 3d woman before

Cater

:0

HES SUPER SURPRISED

Cater chuckles a little before asking if your lip balm was a special gift just for him

(he's a tease!)

Maybe buys you one of those spicy plumping lip glosses, just bc he prefers spice over sweetness

Cay-Cay thrives off your affection, and he adores being the center of your attention

also he def makes you take one of those cheesy selfies where you're kissing his cheek and he's posing all cute like y'all are on myspace or something

he's so cliche ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭

"Just kiss my cheek and pose for the camera!"

Neige

He's just so happy to be alive around you

when you kiss him with sweet strawberry flavored lip balm, he just sighs and blushes a little

to think, he's finally found his very own princess, who'll make him feel loved and give all his love to

he'll kiss you back too, his lip balm is apple flavored and leaves a little red tint on your lips

if you're lip balm is tinted, Neige will walk around with the stain on his face with pride

"Perhaps I can share another sweet little kiss with you, hm?"

I like to think he's a little bit old fashioned when it come to romance, so the next time you two go on a date, he'll get you a pack of your favorite flavored lip balms and a bouquet of your favorite flowers

Neige is so whimsically in love with you, and the domestic little moments you share

Sebek

The cryptid level shriek this man releases is lowkey astounding

Sebek finally mustered up the will to kiss you and you decided to wear a sweet lip balm?!

His entire face was red and he was slightly shaking

so you poke his cheek and he just releases a flurry of words all at once

"HUMAN! YOU THINK YOU CAN LURE ME IN WITH YOUR SWEET AFFECTIONS??? NEVER! AS A PROUD RETAINER OF-"

he'll wind down eventually, maybe even muster up the courage to ask you for another kiss, very quietly for a boisterous person like him

take care of him he's new to this ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

Thank you so much for reading, I'm getting back to fanfic as I'm feeling more positive and joyful!

[bluesylveon2]

Neige: who's that wonderful girl?

Yuu walking in with the most horrendous outfit know to man that it would make Vil cry

Yuu: what are you looking at?

Neige: could she be any cuter? 😊

[pomefioredove]

There was only one bed troupe w/ Rollo and/or Neige? Maybe we got forced into a road trip again and crowley, the genius he is, didn't order the rooms correctly, and now we have a couple room. Good bc big room, but . 1 bed. Shenanigans/pining or something ensue ❤️

actually scrumptious idea I'll take ten more of these /lh throwing in che'nya as a special treat

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ only one bed

type of post: blurbs characters: rollo, neige, che'nya additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Night Raven College is hosting its own cultural event, and everything has been going... strangely well. Seriously! No overblots, no evil schemes, just a day of food, festivities, and fun.

Then then sun sets. And then, of course, everything goes wrong.

"Prefect!" Crowley says, throwing your door open. "Something terrible has happened! A complete fool has miscounted the number of beds needed to accommodate our guests!"

You don't like where this is going. "...And?"

"Since the other rooms in Ramshackle are currently under renovation, I told our guest they could stay with you!"

"A complete fool?" a cold voice asks. "If I recall correctly, Monsieur Crowley, you said you were the one who arranged the rooms."

Crowley laughs nervously and steps aside, letting Rollo Flamme in.

"Yes, well... ah, um... good evening!" the headmaster says, dismissing himself.

Rollo waits until he's gone out the front door before turning to you.

"Hello... again," he says. "I apologize for this... reunion. I'm aware these arrangements are completely improper."

You look around awkwardly. "No, it's... okay. You can come in,"

"You're a poor liar. But thank you,"

When it comes time for sleep, Rollo puts an unnecessary amount of distance between the two of you, nearly hanging off the edge of the bed with his back turned towards you. He's stiff.

It looks uncomfortable. "Are you sure you-"

"I'm well, thank you," his tone is sharp, but there's no malice in it.

You fall asleep before him, but he does eventually relax.

You know this, of course, because when you wake up, he's moved across the bed. His face is buried in your side, his arms tight around your waist, as if he's afraid you'll leave.

It's almost cute, in a way. And you let him be.

He looks like he could use the rest.

You can almost see the rays of sunshine before Neige comes in, a cute little suitcase under his arm.

Crowley wishes you a good night and books it before you can ask any questions, leaving you with the boy.

"...My, this is a very dirty place," he says, studying a cobweb in the corner.

"I've been working on that,"

Neige turns back to you with the brightest smile. "Oh, I can tell! You've made a wonderful home here."

It's weird, a compliment without the bite. You don't even know what to say.

After Neige fusses and coos over Grim for a while, he gets in bed at 9:30, an unsurprisingly early time. You follow, exhausted from the day, anyway.

He doesn't ask to cuddle, but he keeps looking at you. Those big, doe-like eyes are even shinier in the dark.

Eventually, you give in. "...Alright,"

Neige smiles, absolutely delighted, and you have to remind yourself that he's not just getting closer to pick your pockets. He just likes it. Your arm rests around his shoulders as he clings to your side, warm and comfortable in his handmade pajamas.

When you wake up the next morning, he's made you (and Grim) breakfast in bed with what little he could find in your collapsing pantry.

And, inexplicably, the entire house is clean.

"Hello again, you~" but the voice is coming from inside your room.

You flinch in surprise, and Che'nya giggles.

"Wha- Che'nya?" you ask, and turn back to the headmaster. "Wouldn't it make more sense for him to stay at Heartslabyul?"

"Nothing "makes sense" about that boy," Crowley sighs. "Well... good luck with that!"

And then he leaves. You stand there in defeat as Che'nya starts looking through your personal belongings.

He also seems to prefer looking at you, rather than sleeping.

"This house is rather drafty,"

"It's winter," you sigh. He's been staring at you for the past hour.

He hums. "I wonder if the snow loves the tree and fields, that it kisses them gently?"

More nonsense, you think.

Finally, you give up. "If you're cold, you can lay on me,"

You can tell that Che'nya likes that, not only because he immediately curls up, purring with his head on your stomach and his limbs taking up half the bed, but because he stops talking.

At least you can sleep in peace.

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Non NRC

Summary: Yandere Neige/Chenya/Rollo/Najma x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: these are probably the tamest of the crew, yandere content, probably ooc but we know so little about these guys, Rook's an ass, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, Rollo's darling is on their last straw, Stockholm syndrome

A/N: I was gonna include Najma, but she's so pretty, she could do whatever she wanted, and I'd be like, "whatever you say, babygirl." Anyways...I did not include her here...for reasons....

Edit: I am a dumbass. I figured out how to write a Najma part.

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You'd gotten an invitation to Rook's estate in the Sunset Savannah. 

Rook had basically become your son's godfather, though you had to doubt his motives. At first that is.

You'd been suspicious. Of course Rook would want to raise up the next Neige le Blanche. Your son was the spitting image of him, but with the added “bonus” of having your “radiant, glowing eyes.” You couldn't help but worry that Rook was helping you because he wanted to be the one to help polish and prepare the one who would grow up to be the fairest of them all.

Your suspicions had faded over time, as he seemed to be taking a hands off approach, opting to send money, buy food and clothes, and play pretend dad if someone asked questions. He'd visit twice a year, expressing his excitement to simply play fairy godmother to the boy.

Then one evening, long after your son had gone to sleep, you'd sat late into the night talking in front of Rook's grandiose fireplace. The both of you had inched closer and closer, until he'd taken your chin in his hand, and was whispering against your lips.

“I've always loved your eyes. I'd always hoped that it would be my son you'd share them with.”

You laughed dryly. “Perhaps in another universe, there's a boy who looks like Rook Hunt, who has my (e/c) eyes.”

“I hope that Rook treasures him as much as I treasure S/N and his parent. Perhaps you can make the transgression up to me, by allowing me to dote on you, and continue to help raise your son.”

It had been a night where, despite not having drunk anything, you'd felt intoxicated: on eachother, and the firelight, and promises for the future. The next morning, you'd both agreed it was best to proceed as usual. Perhaps, as time went on, you would fall into something naturally. You weren't far off as it was.

A month later was when you'd gotten the invitation to his estate.

Your son was excited as always. And when you'd arrived, Rook had told you he had set up a tea party for you. The door opened, and a pair of arms were wrapped around you.

“Oh my sevens, thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

You stiffened, but didn't have time to react as Neige pulled away, and got down on your son's level, cupping his cheeks, and cooing softly. The static in your ears was preventing you from understanding anything he was saying. But you were the only one out of the four people in this room who was not smiling.

Neige pushed a lock of your son's hair back, and gave him a tearful smile, and you watched as your son skipped out the door. You felt Rook's hands on your shoulders, and it brought you back to earth. He gently directed you to one of the two chairs of the tea party you had been promised. You sat with a thud as Neige took the one across from you. 

You looked up at Rook, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He reached out, and gently brushed one away.

“Do not cry, Mon Trickster”

“Why?”

He smiled softly, yet still had the decency to look heartbroken.

“I cannot stand between soulmates. You can't let true love escape, for someone like me.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Just give him a chance. The beauty the two of you  create together is not something I can allow to get away.”

And then he left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, as you stared at Neige, who practically had hearts in his eyes. He reached across the table and gently took your hand, stroking the back with his thumb.

“I missed you both. So much.”

You bit your lip unsure of what to say.

“Listen, I know I've made some mistakes, but,” he sniffled a little, “I want you back. Please, give us another chance.”

“I don't think-”

“I'm so much better than I was! I hurt you, I know, but I'm not that person anymore.” He got up from his chair, and knelt before you, pressing your hand to his heart.

“I swear on everything I love that I will never hurt you again. I'll be less controlling. I won't fly off the handle. I won't give you the silent treatment when you have to talk to someone who isn't me. Please.”

He knew his crimes. That was a pretty huge step. And as you stared into his pleading eyes, you remembered how much you used to love this man. He seemed so earnest. 

Maybe you could learn to love him again.

“And what if you're lying?” You asked, hoarsely.

“I'm not.”

“A-a trial period. That's all I'll agree to.”

He looked ecstatic as he jumped up, and wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you. I promise to never make you cry again.”

You believed him. Just like you'd believed him everytime he made you pretty promises. 

But, maybe this time…

“Oh. Hey Y/N. Meow's it going?” Chenya said as though him shopping at the supermarket you always shopped at wasn't about to send you spiraling.

He reached past you, grabbing the bag of chips on the shelf next to you. You didn't dare move. Sudden movements made him excited. You'd sent your kids to grab something you'd forgotten in the frozen food aisle. You prayed it would take him a while to find it.

“Nya, you have nothing to be a scaredy cat about. I'm just here to shop,” he said with a wide smile, grabbing another several bags of chips. “See, I have a mew family. With an even more purrfect son.”

“Oh, well good for you, Chenya. I'm happy for you,” you said, quickly turning your cart so that you could run if you had to.

He looked at you, face blank. “So, I don't need you anymore.”

“That's so great. I'm happy for you,” you took a step back, trying to decide if you should call someone over, just in case he decided to be wild, just to fuck with you one more time.

“I'm glad. So leave me alone. M’kay?” He said, his face still uncharacteristically blank.

“Sounds good.”

You slowly walked out of the aisle. Once you were out of his eyeline, you ran for your son, and grabbed his hand.

“Forget it, baby, we're just gonna go home,” you whispered.

“But why?” He whined, begrudgingly putting the ice cream sandwiches, that you definitely didn't ask for, back on the shelf.

“I forgot my wallet at home,” you explained, but he didn't seem to be listening. He slowly pointed slightly behind you. Then you felt a tail wrap around your middle.

You looked over your shoulder, but as usual there was no body attached to the tail. You held back a groan. The only way to deal with him was to give him nothing.

“Nya, you were supposed to get insanely jealous!” He whined, and you felt his rough tongue lick up and down your neck, possessively.

“You said you were happy, and that you didn't need me,” you reminded, trying to subtly give your son the eye signal. You'd established it about a year ago. If you gave him that signal, it meant he had to get a grown up to help. Chenya was too unpredictable, so you had to hope that if your son got away, he would actually get help, or he'd be taken care of by a family far away. He turned on his heel, ready to walk, not run, down the aisle, when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

Chenya 's face hovered above the both of you, clearly upset. 

“Where are you going? Bad kitties get bites,” he warned. Your son, who was not related to Chenya, unfortunately had the same feline features and instincts. Upon hearing that warning, his ears drooped, and he looked down at the floor, whimpering.

“Aw! So pwecious! Papa will forgive you!” The tail around you disappeared, as Chenya recorpperated himself before your son, happily squishing his cheeks, and nuzzling their noses.

“Uh, who are you?” Your son asked nervously, looking at you as though you'd have a logical answer.

“That's-”

“Didn't you hear the first time? I'm your papa!” Chenya giggled happily, as he squeezed your son in a hug.

“This man is scary,” he whimpered.

“Chenya, let's just have a chat-”

His eyes turned to you, and you couldn't fight back a gasp. The anger in his face was something you'd never seen before.

“No. No more chats. No more discussions. No more, ‘let’s take a break's’. We are going home right now.”

He floated over to you, his face less than a centimeter from yours. “And, this time, you are going to stay put. Or the baby kitten is gonna be all mine to raise. I don't think you'd like that very much.”

Your door shattered into a million pieces. And there he was, holding his staff, and looking very displeased with you.

He held out a hand, clearly expecting you to take it. 

“Come.”

You simply sat there, too shocked to even blink, let alone process the command. The fact that he'd found you, meant you were already fucked. Taking his hand would have lessened whatever “purification” punishment he had cooked up for you in your twelve year absence. But you were too shocked.

“How-”

“If you have enough brains to ask questions, then you know you should take my hand, and come home. Before I get angry.”

“We should talk about this-” you began, but cut yourself off as his eyes flashed angrily.

“You had plenty of chances to talk about it. But you chose to act like a child, and run away from your problems.” His staff started to glow, and you swore you saw fire in his eyes. “You have one last chance. Come.”

You stood slowly, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to burn your apartment to the ground, just to make a point.

“S/N is asleep in his room,” you said, taking a step in that direction.

“We're leaving him.”

“What!”

“He was supposed to teach you how to behave. Instead he caused you to be foolish, and run from me.”

“Wait, Rollo, you can't be ser-”

“The child is obviously a distraction. So, he has no use for us.” 

You stared at him, and then ran for your son's room. Rollo quickly caught you around the middle, dragging you towards the exit.

“You can't do this!” You shouted, trying to wrestle from his firm grip. “That's my son!”

“One of your neighbors will see the broken door, and take him in. He is not your son anymore.”

You screamed, and struggled, but, for some reason, none of your neighbors even opened their doors to investigate. He dragged you all the way to his car, no one stopping him. He threw you in, quickly tying you down, before beginning the drive back home.

You continued to scream at him, calling him inhuman, a monster, how dare he separate you from your son? How could he care so little? Your son looked like him, for hell's sake!

“I told you. That boy was a means to an end. And he failed at that end. So I have no use for him. And neither do you. You'll soon forget.”

You snapped at him, and he groaned.

“Oh, just shut up for five minutes,” he muttered, and you found you no longer had your voice.

Ooh, you were steaming. When you had your voice back, you'd let him have it. Then again, so would he. He'd  throw you straight into your punishment, which would probably get worse when he realized your son had been manifesting signs of magic, meaning you needed to be “cleaned”. 

But, at this moment, you realized something. 

If you had to kill this man to get your son back, you were pretty sure you now had the resolve to do it.

You hesitated a moment, before knocking on the front door. You heard shouting inside, then were greeted by Jamil opening the door. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes widening. Then he groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"Najma, you can relax now. They're back!" He shouted into the house. You winced as you heard her squeak. She came running for you, wrapping her arms around you and her son.

"You gotta start taking better care of your things," Jamil warned her.

"Shut up," she muttered into your neck.

"I'll go tell Kalim to call off the search party," Jamil mumbled, walking past the both of you.

"I'm sorry, baby," you whispered, tears springing to your eyes.

She pulled back, her face furious.

"What the hell, Y/N? You scared me half to death. Where did you go? Why did you leave?" She snapped.

You sniffled, more tears flooding your eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know. I just got very scared for a moment. So I ran. I don't know why. I'm so so sorry."

She stared at you for a moment, before she sighed heavily.

"This may be partly my fault," she muttered, but you shook your head. How could this possibly be her fault? She was perfect!

She gently took your son from your arms. You reached back over to take him back, unsure why your stomach was turning, but she softly smiled at you.

"It's alright, Y/N. Come inside."

She walked in, and for some reason your feet felt like lead as you followed her.

"I know exactly what I did. It's not your fault, love," She smiled at you sweetly, but you were doubtful. Didn't you just run with your new son, filled with unspeakable terror, out of nowhere?

She laid your son in the basinet she'd gotten for the living room, then took a seat on the couch, tapping the space next to her. You quickly joined her, laying your head in her lap as she caressed your cheek.

"I thought you were far more adjusted, so I rushed us into the next step. You just weren't ready yet, and it clearly startled you. I'm sorry," she said, a regretful smile on her face.

"That's not true! I'm so ready. I love you and our son so much!"

Her eyes looked so sad, as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You don't even know," she whispered forlornly, before perking back up. "But, we'll work it out. We're in it now, the only thing to do is move forward!"

You felt lulled under by her gentle caresses, drifting off into a nightmare filled sleep. The last thing you saw, was a bitter expression on her face. Not that you'd remember it when you woke up screaming. You never did.