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dotster001 · 2 years

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How they get you under the Mistletoe

Summary: Twst NRC students x gn! reader. How they get you under the Mistletoe.

A/N: Merry Christmas if you celebrate that! If not, happy holidays! I was gonna do the staff too for this, but it got so long 😂 if people enjoy this, I can do the staff and RSA/Noble bell.

The Long awaited Part Two

Ace Trappola

You have no idea until it's too late.

You had to admit, despite the strict rulebook she made, the queen of hearts knew how to throw a holiday party. You were finishing off a glass of the best sparkling cider you'd ever had when you felt an arm around your waist.

You turned to see Ace, just in time for him to lightly punch your shoulder as he told some random student, "And this one? You shoulda seen them, they really whipped our asses into shape."

"You're exaggerating," Deuce pouted from next to him.

"Am not," Ace said. He pushed you slightly forward and gestured to you.

"You wouldn't know it by looking at them, but our beloved Y/N can be a hard ass."

He took a step forward, and whispered, "Huh. Would you look at that prefect. It appears we are under the mistletoe."

You wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, but it was too late. His lips were already on yours.

The world around you faded, and for a moment it was just you and him. Then you were brought back to reality by …

"Ew, Ace," Deuce groaned, and walked away, as did the other Heartslaybul student.

You were about to follow after them to apologize for Ace's tomfoolery, when he grabbed your wrist and whispered, "Hey, we're still under the mistletoe. Can't wreck tradition, now can we?"

Deuce Spade

You were setting up decorations together

First years were in charge of setting up the decor for the Heartslaybul holiday party. Ace and Deuce had of course come begging on their hands and knees for you and Grim to come help.

You'd decided it would save time if you split the work, so Ace and Grim were working on the upstairs hall decor, while you and Deuce were working on the common room.

You were on a shaky ladder trying to hang up some garland and mistletoe, when Deuce panicked and held your ladder still.

"I feel better knowing that I'm holding the ladder still for you," he said, looking up at you nervously.

You nodded, and finished hanging the things, before climbing down (sort of) into his waiting arms. You were about to say you were okay, when you noticed his reddened cheeks, and his eyes flicking between the mistletoe and your lips.

Knowing Deuce as long as you had, you knew you'd have to initiate the thing he clearly wanted. You pressed a quick peck to his lips.

His eyes widened, then darkened as he smiled mischievously. He grabbed your face and kissed you fervently until Grim came through hoping to escape, and screamed.

Riddle Rosehearts

You have to follow the rules.

Riddle had been acting funny the entirety of the party. He'd been quiet, and his face was a bright red, but you figured he was probably tired from exams, and/or stressed about returning home for the break.

It was nearing the end of the party, when he suddenly approached you with a stern frown on his face.

"I know you aren't a member of Heartslaybul, but remember, when you are in my kingdom, you have to follow my rules."

"Why yes, your majesty, of course," you gave a mock curtsy. "And now I'm sure you're gonna tell me what rule I broke?"

He scowled before he turned away.

"Rule 533, the queen and their beloved must share a kiss under the mistletoe, if the holiday is being celebrated under a full moon."

"I'm your beloved?" You couldn't decide whether to tease him, or flush yourself. But this whole thing was very vulnerable of him, and your heart was melting.

"Yes" he whispered. "Now are you going to follow me to mistletoe, or do I have to punish you?"

You gave a fake sigh, "Lead the way, your majesty."

He led you under the mistletoe, and gave you a chaste kiss.

"That's it?" You scoffed.

"What do you mean that's…"

You cut him off with a deep kiss, that he reciprocated incredibly quickly.

When you pulled away, it hit you.

"Wait, isn't it a crescent moon tonight?"

His eyes widened at being caught, and he said the first thing that came to his otherwise empty brain.

"Off with your head!"

Trey Clover

A quiet (orchestrated) moment alone

You were helping Trey with the baking for the party. Knowing Heartslaybul, the party itself was going to be raucous, so having some time to just chill with Trey was nice.

Once everything was in the oven, you began trying to clean up some of the clutter.

"There's no need to do that right now," he said with a soft smile. He took a seat and patted the chair next to him.

"Come sit for a moment, just relax," he hummed before crossing his arms behind his head, closing his eyes, and leaning back.

You took the seat next to him, and did your best to find a comfortable position before sighing.

"I'm not an old man like you. I can't just sleep anywhere."

He opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

"Old man?"

"Yeah, let's face it Trey. You're an old man in a college kid's body."

He smiled mischievously. "That so?"

He pulled out some mistletoe he'd been holding on to and held it above your head, using his other hand to seductively caress your jaw.

"Well, ya gonna give this old man a kiss?"

"That came out weird," You said with a laugh.

"I know, I heard it after I said it," he winced. "Still…"

He leaned in even closer.

"Part of that question still stands," he whispered.

Before you could tease him with a "which part", he was kissing you like he was starving, and you were his last meal.

Cater Diamond

Doing an innocent trend

Being the token non magic student at NRC, Cater knew you were a gold mine for content. You'd become a frequent guest on Cater's magicam, and a popular one at that.

So when Cater had told you before the party that he would need you for a trend later, you didn't think too much about it.

Now he was dragging you off somewhere, giggling over his shoulder as you spilled your drink, or tripped on a stray student. You figured you'd pay him back later.

He stopped abruptly, and told you to stay put as he set up his camera. You had ten seconds once he started the camera to get set, so he always filled you in while he set up any filters or sound bites he wanted.

"Kay, so you're under mistletoe right? So the trend is to kiss your bestie's cheeks under the mistletoe, then hug. All you gotta do is stand there and look fabulous, until the hug part."

It sounded like a pretty boring trend to you. But, whatever, that's why Cater was in charge. He finished set up, pressed the button, and the ten seconds timer started. He ran back over to you, gave you a reassuring, "ready?", And then kissed your cheek on the far side to the camera as the video started.

He kissed your other cheek, and you began to move closer for the hug, when his arms were around you, and he was kissing you.

He took a step back, and took in your appearance, which was flustered and shocked. Your jaw was dropped so far you were certain it was on the floor. And your heart, oh God your heart, you were worried it was beating way too fast.

The set time of the video ended, and Cater practically skipped over to his phone, where he checked the video, added some effects, put in some tags, and posted it.

All you could do was watch him the entire time, words completely gone from your brain.

After the video posted, he put his phone back in his pocket and gave you a smug grin.

"I tagged you in it," he said, eyes looking softer than usual as he pointed to the pocket you kept your phone in.

You pulled it out, and looked at the video you were tagged in.

"Kissing my crush under the mistletoe to see how they'll react."

Leona Kingscholar

It was an accident, but he's not complaining.

Ruggie had asked you to bring Leona the food plate he'd asked for, since he was trying to put as much food in Tupperware as he could before the Savannaclaw party finished. You were a good pal, so you agreed, knowing full well that the second the plate was secure, and you were in arms reach, you would become a nap buddy.

But you weren't complaining. Even though Savannaclaw was hot, it still felt nice to cuddle with a heater during the holidays. For the vibes, of course.

Just as predicted, he opened a single eye, had you set down the plate, and suddenly, you were a little spoon.

"Thanks herbivore," he hummed half heartedly as he nuzzled into your neck.

You were finally starting to drift off, when you were flipped on your back, and he was hovering above you. His eyes were lit up with mischief as he looked down at you like the prey you were beginning to realize you were.

"I guess my nap spot just happens to be under the mistletoe. You'll indulge me, right herbivore?"

Then his lips were on your neck, your jaw, your cheek, but never your lips, until you whined at him to stop teasing you.

He laughed lowly, and whispered, "As you wish." And finally gave you what you wanted.

Ruggie Bucchi

If you don't know how he does it, hi, you must be new. Welcome to the fandom 😂

"Laugh with me," he whispered, and before you could cuss him out for being a prick, he was already giggling and walking you both over to the mistletoe that you'd seen a Savannaclaw student and his Octavinelle boyfriend making out under an hour ago.

When you both stopped under it, he gasped in mock surprise.

"My my my, what have we here? It appears we've been caught under the mistletoe!" He said, as his grin turned sneakier and sneakier now that he was certain he'd won.

His tail was wagging at a mile a minute as you "reluctantly" puckered your lips out to him. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and you thought it was over.

But Ruggie is an opportunist.

Hours of making out later, you finally pried yourself from Ruggie's embrace, but only on the promise that you would bring back some hot chocolate to share.

Jack Howl

You'll have to initiate.

The entirety of the party, you'd seen Jack's eyes flicker to the mistletoe, over to you, and then down to the floor in embarrassment.

He'd made sure neither of you wandered over in that direction, and if you asked him if something was wrong, his cheeks would darken.

Naturally, because this was Savannaclaw, you, Ruggie and Jack were the only ones there for party cleanup.

You subtly made eye contact with Ruggie and nodded towards the mistletoe, then towards Jack.

Ruggie grinned and made a gesture for money with his hands. You rolled your eyes and nodded, and he smiled.

"We're out of garbage bags, I'll be right back guys," Ruggie said before leaving the room.

Jack started to follow after him, and you grabbed his arm.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"We have trash bags right here," he nodded at the obvious box of trash bags, and you cursed Ruggie in your head.

"He's just giving us privacy, come over here," you did your best to pull him over to the mistletoe, but he was made out of stone.

"Why?"

"Gah! Just trust me!"

He frowned, but allowed you to pull him over. Once you were under the mistletoe, his tail started wagging like a fan, but his eyes couldn't meet yours.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, until he sighed, and relaxed.

It was over far too soon, but you knew Jack would probably explode if you overdid it. And you'd rather not have that happen.

What surprised you, though, was how you were suddenly engulfed in his arms, as he buried his face in your hair, and held you close.

Azul Ashengrotto

His wingmen are simultaneously the worst and the best.

The Monstro Lounge was having a winter themed night. Azul may or may not have been planning with the tweels how he was going to effortlessly get you under the mistletoe.

You arrived, as planned, with Grim, and had taken a seat at a table near the VIP room.

"Prefect! I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I was hoping you could look at the menu I'm thinking about for the next semester."

"Of course," you stood up and followed him to the chosen spot, but now that you were here, he was nervous to initiate. So he continued pointing out dishes on the menu until…

"Have you kissed them yet?" Floyd shouted from across the lounge.

"Yes, you see we've been keeping other students away from the mistletoe, but they are starting to get upset. I'd hurry up if I were you," Jade said at a much subtler volume.

Azul turned a bright shade of red as you looked at him.

"I…well…prefect?"

You gave him a nod, and he took a deep breath, and kissed you.

"God finally!"

"Subtly, Floyd!"

Jade Leech

You don't know until it's too late, part 2.

"There's something I'd like to show you in my room. My new terrarium has produced interesting results."

You were following Jade to his room, when you realized he was no longer walking with you. You turned around and saw him furrowing his brow at his phone, and typing something.

You walked back over to him to ask what was wrong, and you were suddenly pulled flush against him as he gave you a smug grin.

"Looks like you've trapped me under the mistletoe," he said as though he wasn't the one who had pulled you in.

"Ah well," he sighed, with a surrendering smile, running a gloved finger along your jaw, then tilting your chin up. "if that is what you truly desire, I suppose I shall have to oblige."

Floyd Leech

You have three options.

There are three ways this can go, and it all depends on his mood.

Route 1:

Floyd had joined you in your booth and continued slouching, until he finally just laid himself in your lap.

"Floyd, there is mistletoe over there," Jade said as he dropped off the food you'd ordered.

Floyd groaned, "Shrimpy and I can just kiss over here. What's the big deal about a leaf?"

Route 2:

Floyd immediately grabbed your hand when you set foot in the Monstro Lounge. He giggled excitedly like a kid on Christmas morning.

"C'mon Shrimpy! We gotta kiss under the mistletoe!"

Whether you're flustered or not doesn't matter. Prepare for excited sloppy kisses.

Route 3:

Floyd said nothing as you entered the lounge and he just….scooped you up. Long boy was way too strong to fight off, so you just kind of let him. But that was the only way to get along with Floyd really. You just had to be along for the ride.

Once he reached where he was going, he adjusted your position so that you were pressed to him, and his hands were under your knees, and you wrapped your arms around him for more support.

"Hmmm…. I've caught myself a Shrimpy," he said lowly, but his eyes were glittering with excitement.

"Well, it's too late for you," he leaned in and nibbled your lip. "Because according to Azul and land people's traditions, that leaf above us means you have to kiss me."

Kalim al Asim

Just asks you like a normal person.

The Scarabia holiday party was hopping, obviously. You'd expected nothing less. He'd planned for everything including...

"Y/N! Let's go kiss under the mistletoe!" He said excitedly as he grabbed your hand.

He froze for a minute then looked at you sheepishly.

"Only if you want to, of course, but I'd really like to kiss you, please?"

How could you say no to those puppy eyes?

"Of cour-"

The words weren't out of your mouth when he was pulling you to the mistletoe, and excitedly kissing you all over your face, really anywhere he could reach, like his affection for you was exploding in kiss form.

Jamil Viper

A quiet moment, in private.

You knew Jamil was probably in charge of a lot for the party. He seemed particularly stressed, too, because after this he had to oversee cleanup, and then helping all the students get ready to go home for break.

So you stayed out of his way during the party, and offered to take over cleanup manager, while he helped final inspections and packing.

He finished a little before you, then helped you finish, and invited you for tea in his room. When you both had your tea, he exhaustedly flopped backwards on the bed with a groan.

"That was a lot," he sighed.

"Yeah, but you have a little break now," you said, massaging his shoulders.

He sat up with a start.

"I was supposed to kiss you!"

"Huh?"

Instead of answering, he just started fervently making out with you. Eventually, your lips were free as he held you close and kissed your neck and the rest of your face.

"What do you mean you were supposed to kiss me?"

"Under the mistletoe," he managed to get out. "It's the whole reason Kalim put the stupid thing there."

Vil Schoenheit

He just asks (pt 2) He's not an animal, potato.

The holiday party was a formal affair in the Pomefiore dorm. Vil was seated in his throne, with Rook standing by his side, as his potatoes mingled. His eyes were on a single potato. You.

At length, Rook gave a laugh.

"Roi du poison, just go kiss them. You know you want to."

Vil sighed, and gave a glare to Rook, but it was too late. He was already calling you over to the throne.

You arrived and gave a mock bow.

"Your highness," you said with a grin. "You called?"

"Yes," since you were going to act like a smart ass, he'd play with you a little. "I'd like you to join me under the mistletoe, if you'd be so kind."

Your jaw dropped, and you looked like a blubbering fish. He smiled to himself, and stood up from the throne, gracefully taking your arm and walking to the mistletoe.

He tilted your head up with a single finger and smugly asked, "Well?"

You gave a vigorous nod. He laughed and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Then he just walked away.

Always leave your audience wanting more.

Rook Hunt

Everything seems normal-WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM?

He must have been hiding nearby. Waiting for you. A part of you was chiding yourself for not knowing.

You had intended to walk past the mistletoe into the kitchen, where you would get some more snacks. No one had been around. You were certain.

Rook dropped from the sky just as you stepped under the mistletoe.

"What the fuck!" You shouted, but he was simply giggling, and wrapping his arms around you, trapping your arms to your sides.

"You let your guard down, Mon Trickster."

"Yeah, that's on me," you sighed.

"Is the prey surrendering?" He laughed out in amusement.

You gave an experimental wiggle, then sighed .

"Yeah, looks like it."

He leaned in and spoke against your lips, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"Then I'll take my prize now."

Epel Felmier

Thinks it's stupid…until it's not.

"Kissin' under the mistletoe is a stupid tradition," Epel said for the fifth time in an hour. But this was the first time you'd heard it. You'd been elsewhere all day. But he'd said it to literally everybody else.

"Yeah, it kind of is," you laughed back, and his frown deepened.

"W-well, it's not that stupid," Epel said.

"Sure it is, I mean who even came up with it?"

"It's not stupid! I'll prove it to ya!"

He grabbed your wrist and dragged you off under the mistletoe, and kissed you hard.

"See? Not stupid," he said smugly. Until he realized what he'd just done. Then his face turned a bright red.

"Fuck," he muttered. " 'S a stupid tradition."

Idia Shroud

Lmao not happening.

He'll die before he goes to the holiday party. And he'll die before he participates in such a stupid normie tradition.

Sorry Idia simps, but you know I'm right.

Malleus Draconia

Over prepares.

Whoever was in charge of decorating….had definitely overdone it.

The ceiling was covered in mistletoe. You couldn't go more than a couple steps without finding yourself under another sprig.

"Child of man, are you enjoying your festivities?" Malleus suddenly boomed from behind you.

"For sure!" You turned to face him with a smile. "Thanks for inviting me!"

Malleus smiles for a moment, then releases the fakest gasp you've ever heard.

"Child of man! It appears we are under the mistletoe!"

You look at the multitudes of mistletoe on the ceiling, and laugh, "I think it'd be weirder if we weren't under the mistletoe."

He furrows his brow and pouts. "Lilia told me about the human holiday tradition where you must kiss if you are under the mistletoe."

Oh.

OH!

You felt your cheeks warm as you put two and two together.

"O-okay, if you want a kiss then-"

His lips are on yours immediately, his hands in your hair and on your back, like if he stops moving them you'll be able to escape his grip.

He pulls away and licks his lips seductively.

"There, we have not broken tradition."

You both walk a couple of steps, then…

"*Fake gasp* Child of man! We are under the mistletoe yet again!"

Lilia Vanrouge

Hijinks and mischiefs.

You have no idea how you ended up under the mistletoe with Lilia. But now he was floating around you in circles, tapping his chin thoughtfully with a satisfied smirk.

"Now what do I do with you, little human? It appears you have fallen in a trap set by the very crafty Lilia Vanrouge."

You felt his breath on the back of your neck, as he hovered close behind you, but not close enough to actually touch.

"I suppose I could let you go."

He whispered.

Then his breath was on your right ear.

"Or I could trap you here forever so that you have to kiss me whenever I want."

He floated in front of you and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Why it hadn't occurred to you to just leave him there, you had no idea. But with all the hovering and breathing on your skin, you thought you would lose your mind if he didn't kiss you soon.

He hummed to himself, then tilted his head and leaned in close. As his lips were about to brush against yours, he abruptly shifted up and pressed a quick peck to the tip of your nose.

Then he grinned and flew away.

Cheeky bastard.

Silver

A goodnight kiss.

Silver had fallen asleep halfway through the party. He'd woken up at the end, when you were about to leave. He knew it had been snowing, so he'd offered to walk you back to Ramshackle.

As you reached the door, Silver found himself taken with how beautiful you looked surrounded by the snow. Your eyes glinting from the cold, your hair shining with the glitter of snowflakes. Truly radiant.

"Wait," he said softly as you turned the handle.

You turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. He walked closer, and took your hands in his, rubbing his chilly nose against yours affectionately.

"I don't know if I'll get to see you again before break is over," he whispered. You leaned the rest of the way in and softly kissed him, before slowly pulling away and stepping inside.

"Goodnight Silver," you whispered, and he swore he'd never been more awake than that moment.

Sebek Zigvolt

It's stupid until it isn't (pt 2)

"Y/N keeps walking very close to that mistletoe. Dangerously close," Lilia whispered to Sebek.

"So?" Sebek asked, as though he hadn't been watching you do this for the last half hour while you talked to some random second year in his dorm.

"It looks almost like Donovan is doing it on purpose," Lilia said with a smirk, nodding at the second year in question. At a second glance, Sebek saw Lilia was right. It looked like he was trying to back you into it.

Sebek scowled. "It doesn't matter. It's a silly human tradition of little substance."

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard you laugh loudly at something Donovan had said.

Without a word he marched over to you.

"Human!"

"Oh, hey Sebek!" You turned with a smile. "What's-"

He wrapped a single arm around your waist, and pulled you close as he kissed you under the mistletoe.

He kept the arm around your waist as he turned to Donovan, who had a rather ugly scowl on his face.

"EXCUSE ME DONOVAN, MY HUMAN AND I ARE GOING TO HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION IN THE HALLWAY CLOSET!" Sebek said, louder than even he intended. But your flustered expression, and Donovan's rage, as he walked you to the hallway, made it all worth it.

....

Tag list- @lleoll @shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

Text

Steal Your Heart (Part 1)

When the calling card of the infamous Knave of Hearts arrives, he’ll rob his victims blind of their most treasured items on the appointed date. Enter ace detective Yuu accompanied by rookie cop Deuce Spade, both seeking to apprehend the Knave and bring him to justice.

Will they succeed, or will the phantom thief steal their valuables--and their hearts--first?

This was originally meant to be one fic, but it was getting to be WAY too long. I decided to split it in half and release this part now and the second part (which I am still working on!) later. This first part focuses more on Yuu and Deuce; the second part will be more Yuu and Ace.

(Please note: there are slight romantic implications in the form of an Ace/Yuu/Deuce love triangle, but those elements could also be interpreted as platonic or as just playful teasing with no additional meaning. It’s all in the eyes of the reader!)

Imagine this...

The police station’s waiting room was a familiar sight.

With time, the shiny checkered floor had grown matte, marred with scratches and scuffs from the boots that crossed it on a daily basis. Someone had taken to attempt to pretty up the otherwise dull space by hanging out abstract paintings on the cream-colored walls, and a vase of white roses dripping with red paint at the check-in desk. There was as even a glass tank which housed a small family of colorful hedgehogs.

Maybe they were meant to be welcoming—but really, they were more clashing than anything. Certainly not a fit for the stiff atmosphere of the station.

Still the fluorescent lightbulbs buzzed faintly, flickering in and out on occasion. The sound distracted from the old television mounted in a corner to entertain guests. It seemed to play commercials on a loop more often than it played actual shows. Currently, an Olympus Corp. branded tablet was being toted as the next big technological marvel—though the TV’s audio was fuzzy at best, and the image half static.

A coffee table pushed to the wall, stacked with a new stash of magazines. Whoever updated the reading materials—most likely the friendly senior officer with orange waves for hair—was into the latest trends, often selecting fashion magazines with high gloss finishes. A dangerously beautiful man graced the covers of many of them, dressed in the hottest summertime styles while looking the part of an untouchable ice queen.

As usual, the station was scented with coffee and tea, the beverages of choice for many officers burning the midnight oil or working overtime. The chief demanded it at times to meet deadlines and goals—he was such a stickler for them—and the caffeine helped those under him stay sane as they went about their duties.

In the afternoons, most were either out on lunch or on patrol, lessening the foot traffic at HQ. There was only one man in uniform, seated behind the desk and filing some papers.

Yuu shifted in their own chair, adjusting the rim of the baseball cap upon their head. They were suited in an inconspicuous jacket and sneakers, fingers toying with a badge in a pocket, hidden out of view. To the common man, they were a jogger--but one flash of their lilac gemstone bound to a black and white striped ribbon, and there would be no doubt as to what their true identity was.

The smell of coffee and tea grew stronger, and Yuu glanced up from behind the bill of their hat.

The bespectacled man from behind the fro

nt desk had approached. He had a sheepish smile, bearing a paper cup filled with hot brown liquid and a napkin with a donut laid upon it. Bright pink icing dusted with sugared violet petals crowned the golden fried pastry.

“Detective.”

“Mr. Clover.” Yuu nodded—a terse, polite greeting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Please, just ‘Trey’ is fine.” He offered the treats, which they readily accepted. “Sorry for calling you in on such short notice. I’m sure you’re busy juggling your other cases—but I think I speak for the entire department when I say we’re thankful that you were able to make it.”

“No worries, I’m used to it in this line of work,” Yuu replied. “It must be something pretty urgent this time around. The Chief sounded frantic over the phone.”

Trey rubbed at his chin, grasping for the right words. “Let’s just say he’s not in the best of moods right now. You’ll need that sugar to get through this in one piece.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Just trying to avoid any trouble. You’d better finish them before you step into his office. You know how he hates it when there are crumbs or spills in there.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Yuu gave a joking salute before starting to pack away at their snack. The drink was the instant kind, and practically scalding, but it was easy to tell that the donut was homemade. The pastry, flaky on the outside and fluffy on the inside, dusted with sugar granules and sweet icing. “Wouldn’t want the Chief to be blowing a fuse again.”

“No, definitely not. He’s done too much of that lately.” Trey carefully eyed Yuu’s donut, now only half of it left. “Oh, but be sure to brush your teeth a thorough cleaning tonight, or I might have some problems with you. Cavities and staining are real dangers, you know.”

“Are you Assistant Chief of Police or my dental hygienist?” Yuu took a generous swig, then a bite just as big. “You worry too much about everything.”

“Ahahah… Do I? It’s a habit, I guess. Comes with the job.”

“That stressful, huh?”

“Well, I do what I can to smooth things over. Hopefully you can too. It’s been difficult on our department with the Chief all rattled up about the… situation.” He stopped himself. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from him.”

So the case is top-secret, Yuu concluded with the last of their donut. Not to be discussed in the public.

They ran their tongue across the length of their mouth, lapping up the remains of sugary residue. “I understand. The details are not to leave his office.”

“You catch on quickly. No wonder why the Chief thinks so highly of your abilities.”

“Flattery’s a part of your tool kit as well, Trey?”

He raised his eyebrows. “… You’ve worked long enough with us to figure these things out. Nothing gets by you, it seems.”

“UGIGIGIGIGGGGHHHH!!”

The remainder of Yuu’s drink sloshed around in its cup, set into motion by the bloodcurdling scream.

A familiar man with orange waves erupted from the chief’s office, hurriedly slamming the door shut behind him. His typically relaxed features were arranged in panic, his hair frazzled.

“How did trying to calm him work out, Cater?” Trey inquired half-heartedly. It was a courtesy more than genuine curiosity.

“What do you think?” the senior officer groaned, sinking where he stood.

Yuu quickly finished their drink, tossing their trash—the evidence they had been there—away and then stood, adjusting their jacket. “That sounds like it’s my cue.”

“Yeah, it is.” Trey sighed, frowning. “He’s in a tough spot right. Be kind to him, will you? That’s all I ask.”

“You got it.” Yuu tipped their baseball cap as they passed the officer. “Thank you for the pick-me-up. I’ll be seeing you, then. Officer Diamond—get some rest.”

“Good luck.”

“You’ll need it, Yuu-chan! Brace yourself.”

The Police Chief was a small but serious man.

His character came through in his office space: books on law and order neatly arranged on shelves, papers and files alphabetically organized in their cabinets, and pens evenly spaced apart and arranged in rows. A crystal vase with deep red roses was poised beside his writing implements. A plate polished to a fine shine was propped up at his desk, reading: Riddle Rosehearts, Chief of Police.

Perched imposingly despite his short stature in his seat, he impatiently tapped a finger on an arm. Riddle’s face was a telltale red and veiny, proof of his earlier outburst, but was beginning to cool into a faint, smooth pink.

There was already another man in the office, sitting across from the Police Chief. He was pale and jittery in a suit the color of the night and sewn with blue sequins and glitter. A top hat rested upon his raven locks, the brim of it shading his hauntingly golden eyes.

Yuu removed their hat and, keeping it to their chest, gave a shallow bow as they entered. “Sir.”

One move out of line, one hair out of place, and they suspected he, in his volatile and vulnerable state, would explode anew.

“Welcome, Detective. I’m glad you could join us today.” Every word was a gruff puff of air, a leash with which to wrest control of his rage. Riddle gestured to the empty chair beside the nervous man. “Sit.”

Yuu obeyed, sinking into the seat offered. They casted a glance at the stranger adjacent to them, who was fiddling with his velvet-lined gloves.

“Mr. Crowley, this is the independent detective from Stray Cat Investigations that I had previously mentioned to you. The force has collaborated with them for a number of difficult cases in the past. Their wit and strategic skills have made them an invaluable asset. I thought it prudent to have them return to join us for your case as well.

“Yuu, meet Dire Crowley. He is the esteemed director and curator for the Sage’s Island Museum, and he’s come to us with his woes.”

“Hello, Mr. Crowley,” Yuu said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He responded with a tired attempt at a smile. “Yes, you too.”

“Now that we’re all acquainted with one another...” Riddle produced a file from beneath his desk and placed it before himself. “Do you care to explain, or shall I?”

“I-I’ll elaborate!” Crowley crowed. He picked at a collection of keys belted to his waist, glistening gold under artificial lights. “The Sage’s Island Museum is planning a new exhibition on the Great Seven. As part of the exhibit, we are having many priceless artifacts flown in from all over Twisted Wonderland. We have donations from even Briar Valley’s royal family!!

“There will also be a great number of important VIP guests present for the grand opening of the exhibit. Royalty, wealthy benefactors, important diplomats, businessmen, celebrities... All individuals who wish to see their history on display! This is very important, you see!! M-My reputation--er, I mean, the museum’s reputation--is on the line here!!”

“Right.” Yuu nodded as they parsed through the information. “I’m following what you’re putting down. And where does your problem arise, Mr. Crowley?”

“Ah, now that,” Riddle smirked, “is the question of the hour.”

He opened his file, pulling out...

A single playing card, its back facing Yuu.

“I trust you’ve been keeping up with the news?”

“As any good detective would. There have been several robberies lately. Terrible, really.” Yuu’s expression clouded with concentration. “Hmm... but if it’s a potential robbery that you’re concerned about, Mr. Crowley... Doesn’t the Sage’s Island Museum boast a state-of-the-art security system from Olympus Corp.? I doubt the average thief would be able to bypass it.”

“That’s just the trouble,” Crowley loudly lamented.

“We are dealing with no ordinary thief,” Riddle clarified.

“It’s not?”

“No. Far from it.” The Police Chief exhaled sharply. “The string of robberies from before--they’re connected by a single thread, perpetuated by the same lone culprit. And now that scoundrel intends to continue his crime spree.”

“I’ve never heard of this before.”

“You shouldn’t have. It was a top-secret operation within my force since the first of its kind.”

“Why am I being told of it now?”

“Because, loathe as I am to admit it, the culprit has managed to outwit us and elude capture each and every time, He employs a bag of cheap parlor tricks and smoke and mirrors like the coward he is,” Riddle confessed begrudgingly. The blue-grey of his eyes were steely and stubborn. “A case as important as this needs the additional man—and brain—power, Detective.”

He placed the playing card down and slid it toward the detective. “This arrived in the morning at Mr. Crowley’s desk, the same as all the prior robberies. It gave him quite the fright. He rushed all the way to the station to beg for our assistance.”

“This is...” Yuu gingerly turned the card over, revealing a message scrawled on the other side in bright red gel ink. Each letter was big and bubbly, bursting with cheek and pomp.

Their heart jumped.

To the Old Crow that safeguards the Museum,

Heyo~

Your pockets look a lil’ heavy there, so I’ll help you out. (Aren’t I so kind?) Three days from now, I’ll claim one of your most prized treasures at the stroke of midnight.

Stand back and watch as I perform the greatest magic trick you’ll ever see... and make the portrait of the Queen of Hearts vanish before your very eyes. It’ll be a show-stopper!!

Until then,

Phantom Thief Knave of Hearts <3 ;3

P.S. Send the cops my regards, they can’t catch me lol (especially when their teapot tyrant’s patience is in SHORT supply geddit)

“They’re just flat-out announcing what their intentions are,” Yuu realized. They were half impressed, half shocked at the gall. “You said all of the victims received messages like this?”

“Calling cards, yes.” The fury had returned to Riddle’s features, causing his voice to spike and strain. “It’s infuriating!! What does he get off on, misappropriating magic as cheap parlor tricks for crime, writing notes in such a cocksure manner, taunting us to pursue him?!

“Not only is he poking fun at my height and committing a crime, but for mere SPORT?! For the THRILL of it?! He’s making a mockery of the good people of this island and of my men and our efforts to secure the peace!!”

The Police Chief slammed a fist down on his desk, rattling his glass vase and setting his perfectly straight pens askew. Crowley shrunk back in fear. “That Knave of Hearts...!! He must be stopped at all costs!!”

“Y-Yes, absolutely!!” Crowley chimed in. “For my--er, I mean, for the museum’s sake, this criminal must be put behind bars!! That’s why I’ve come to you, my good people!

“My taxpayer dollars help fund the police force, so I’ve come to collect on what its promise to protect and to serve the community!! Well, here’s the community at your doorstep asking you to protect and to serve!!”

“That’s why you want to put me on this case,” Yuu concluded, clasping the calling card to their racing heart. “To prevent this from going down tonight.”

“And furthermore,” Riddle added, “to investigate the identity of this so-called phantom thief once the museum is safely secured.”

“That’s a tall order, sir.”

“You’ll have access to our force’s resources, and to my officers. You will assist in overseeing this operation, with maps and outlines of the museum’s security detail from Mr. Crowley. We’ll cooperate to create a plan of attack to apprehend the Knave.”

“You misunderstand me. I never said I wouldn’t take the job,” Yuu coolly informed the Chief. Their mouth cocked upwards with confidence. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Oh, blessed day!! From the very bottom of my oh-so-generous heart, thank you very much!!” Crowley cried tearfully.

For the first time the entire briefing, Riddle smiled back at Yuu. “Hmph. That’s what I like to hear. Happy to be working with you again, Detective.”

“Likewise, Chief.”

The sun had already set when Yuu exited the station, the stars blinking into existence. Several hours had been spent picking the museum curator’s brain with a fine-toothed comb, looking over layouts, and memorizing security detail. The information had been well-stocked, and now came the time to let it marinate and bloom into plans.

Stuffing their hands in their pockets, Yuu shuffled down the sidewalk and past rows of parked vehicles. Ahead, neon lights flashed in and out, and the trains rattled on their well-worn tracks, buses and cars honking at each other, the chatter of street vendors filling the air.

And something different than the usual tonight.

The city never slept, always buzzed with energy. Yuu had become accustomed to its sights and sounds, finding them even comforting. Their best ideas were conceived against the hum of the cityscape. It was just soft enough to not fully distract, but just noticeable enough to tug at their thoughts for long enough to stray into new territories and concepts.

Light from lonely streetlamps created tears in the darkness, illuminating the path to their favorite downtown thinking spot: the Mostro Lounge. A good (albeit overpriced) drink would chase away their tiredness.

Yuu continued with that promise in mind, every step catlike. First quick, next slow, then quick, moderate, slow, quick, slow, quick, moderate. Their speed, ever alternating.

Their ears strained against the sounds of the city, slowly parsing through the individual elements.

Trains, buses, cars, chatter… and the soft footsteps masked by them. Footsteps which matched Yuu’s pace.

There was no mistaking it now.

I’m being followed.

They didn’t look to see who it was—the first rule of tailing a target was to never alert them to your awareness. Yuu would know (as oftentimes they were the one in the position of tailer).

They cast their eyes across the street, which was busy with bodies. Once Yuu merged with the crowd, they could easily shake off their stalker.

Their feet picked up their pace again, hurrying to the crosswalk. It was a glaring red, advising pedestrians to stop.

Shoot, Yuu cursed.

They felt a presence step up beside them. From the corner of their eye, they could make out a dark form--clothes. Yuu pretended to check the time on their phone, and glimpsed him in the reflection.

He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up and head down to conceal his features. His hands, too, were out of sight, a sea of baggy fabric hiding identifying features, save for his frame. Lanky, but reasonably packed with muscle to keep up with Yuu.

The man shifted, and his sight grazed theirs. His eyes were hard and icy, a silent threat.

Yuu quickly focused on the crosswalk light. Their heartbeat became as loud as the surrounding sounds. Screeching above the vehicles, shouting from the rooftops. THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP.

At last, the light turned from red to white.

Walk.

They started--and so did he.

“Excuse me.” A hand came upon their shoulder. The other pulled at something with a sinister glint. “Do you have a second?”

No walking, Yuu corrected themselves. Run!!

They sprinted down the crosswalk, jostling pedestrians with a hasty “sorry!” thrown back at them. As Yuu weaved through the crowd as fast as they could, they could not completely shunt out the man after them.

“Hey, please wait!! Where are you going?! C-Come back, I need to talk to you!”

His voice carried above the others. People jolted back, the crowd parting to make way for the man to charge forth. His volume swelled louder and louder as he gained on them.

Towering apartments seemed to bear down on Yuu. Their windows, glaring.

A shop. Find a shop and get inside!!

Yuu pumped their arms, pleaded for their legs to move more efficiently.

Again, a weight fell upon their shoulder. It was a clamp, fingers biting Yuu’s skin through their jacket as they dug in and held firm.

The other hand wielded the same shining object that it had before. Yuu looked more closely this time, and the unease in them dissipated. It was not the pointed tip of a knife, but the glint of a familiar officer’s badge wreathed in golden roses.

The man tore off his hood with a sigh--though Yuu noticed that he wasn’t one bit out of breath. Navy bangs fell across his forehead, his eyes a peacock green-blue, much friendlier under the streetlamps than the crosswalk signs.

He smiled at Yuu as though he were greeting an old friend. His grip turned into a tender squeeze. “I finally caught up with you!”

The detective awkwardly pulled away, confusion scrawled on their face. “Um... Sorry, who are you? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Oh! Uh...” The man jumped, retracting his hand. “That’s because we haven’t! Er, not officially anyway, but I’ve heard a lot about you!!”

Yuu pointed to his badge. “That. You’re an officer?”

“Yessir!” The man offered the proof of his identity and stiffly saluted. “Officer Deuce Spade, sir!! I’m a new recruit...!! I just joined the force a few weeks ago!”

Yuu mustered a faint smile. The darned fool was going to give them away. “... Am I in trouble, officer?”

“Nossir! Not at all!” His entire face shone with eagerness, earnest, and a slightly nervous energy. Maybe Yuu would have found it adorable (in the same way that a child trying hard was adorable), were he not blasting your occupation to the public. “Why would you be in trouble, sir?! You’re working with...”

“Okaaay, that’s enough out of you!” Yuu slapped a hand over Deuce’s mouth, silencing him.

Curious onlookers murmured amongst themselves. Some had taken to halt and full-on gawk. Children pointed, adult narrowing their eyes with suspicion.

Yuu frowned, removing their hand to shoo pedestrians away. “Nothing to see here, folks. Just a misunderstanding. Move along, Wonder Boy and I can settle this ourselves.”

“Wonder Boy?” Deuce, in a daze, pointed to himself. “Is that... me?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” Yuu folded their arms. “I assume you’re free now?”

“I am, sir! I was just let off my shift a little while ago, sir!”

“First, drop the ‘sir’. It’s giving me a headache,” Yuu instructed. “Second, if you’re free, then you’ll be joining me for a drink and a chat. We have things to discuss--chief among them being why you were following me.”

Ring-a-ling!

A bell sounded as the door to the Mostro Lounge swung open. Deuce stepped into a new world, Yuu at his side.

The interior itself was dim, but glass lights fastened in the shape of jellyfish projected swimming incandescent lights in purple, blue, and pink. Velvet booths lined one half of the eatery, the other, a glossy bar with tall, narrow stools, the shelves behind it healthily stocked with bottles in jeweled tones. Strangers poised with drink took residence in most of the seats.

The entire back wall had been repurposed into a massive aquarium teeming with aquatic plants and exotic creatures. Seaweed and coral gently swayed to the rhythm of the smooth jazz floating through the lounge, fish frolicking among them.

“Whoooa,” Deuce gasped, craning his head to drink in every detail. “I’ve never been to a place as classy as this. It looks so expensive. You think my salary’s enough to cover at least an appetizer?”

“Hang on tight to your wallet,” Yuu warned. “This place will squeeze you for every thaumark you’re worth and then some—and they won’t feel a bit of remorse about it.”

The detective raised an arm, flagging a nearby waiter.

Their uniform was simple yet sleek: dark dress pants, a white bow tie, spotless gloves, and a cummerbund and suspenders over a lavender button-up shirt. It allowed for slight variation—one waiter skidded by with his shirt buttoned as low as food safety regulations deemed safe. Another jotted down orders with a jacket thrown over his shoulders and a pair of glasses tucked into the crevice of his buttons.

The waiter Yuu called out to approached like a shark fin cutting through still water, neatly bowing to greet their waiting customers. He was prim and proper compared to the other servers, not a button out of place.

When he raised his head, Deuce marveled at his mismatched olive and gold irises, the teal of his hair marred by a stripe of black. Three diamond-shaped scales dangled from his left ear, as sharp as his eyes.

“I bid you welcome to the Mostro Lounge, honored guests,” the waiter said smoothly. He gaze immediately cut to Deuce. “I see you’ve brought a friend with you, today, Yuu-san. How delightfully rare.”

“Acquaintance. We just met outside under… less than ideal circumstances.”

“Oya, how quick you were to seize on that chance encounter. I may even deem you a bigger opportunist than our dear manager.”

“… Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Deuce inquired.

“Perhaps you will find the answer to your question, should you act as a patron at our establishment for long enough.”

“Quit toying with him, Jade. You know what we’re here for,” Yuu grumbled. “My usual.”

“If that is what you wish. And for this gentleman acquaintance of yours?”

“Just ice water is fine, sir!”

Jade maintained his polite smile. “Very well. One glass of ice cold water for you. I will bring you a menu as well, in case you begin to feel peckish late into the night.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“Right this way then.” Jade gestured for the two to follow him.

“He’s upselling you, you know,” Yuu pointed out under their breath. “Hoping that you’ll buy something when presented with the opportunity to spend.”

“E-Eh, he is?! I didn’t even realize…”

“Fufufu. Please, do not let your worries consume you. You have come to relax, correct? We at the Mostro Lounge ask that you put your fins and your feet up and enjoy yourself while the night is still young.”

They were escorted to two empty stools in a (relatively) quiet corner of the bar. The glass jellyfish lights were clustered in the center of the main dining area, leaving the corner like a slice of dark, uncharted waters. Jass music and conversation filtered into a muffled melody.

Yuu plopped down with relief, followed by an apprehensive Deuce. He slowly sank into the cushy seat.

“I will be right back with your drinks. If you will excuse me.” With another bow, Jade rounded the bar and rolled up his sleeves—the transition from waiter to bartender. Presenting his back to the duo, he set to plucking bottles off of the shelves.

Deuce blinked. He still hadn’t taken to fully processing his new surroundings. “Are we really going kick back and have drinks when there’s a serial thief on the loose?”

“We can’t talk about that in public, or risk blowing my cover. It’s safe to talk here,” Yuu reassured him. “What happens in the Mostro Lounge stays in the Mostro Lounge. Say what you want about the slimy staff, but they know how to keep their patrons’ secrets. Client confidentiality and all.”

The young officer brightened. “Ooooh, I get it!”

“… You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Yuu remarked bluntly. They slipped off their baseball cap, letting loose their hair. “So? Let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“Your reason for following me.”

“Oh!! That.” Deuce nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “That’s kind of…”

The detective drummed their fingers on the polished counter. Methodical, deliberate. “You mentioned that you recently joined the force. However, only senior officials in the police department and myself were privy to this operation. How did you come to learn about it?”

Deuce stiffened, thrown off his beat (if he had any to begin with). “Th-That’s…!”

“I’m asking you a question, Mr. Spade. Please answer me truthfully.”

“I… um… Truth is, I…” Deuce stared at his lap, unable to meet the detective’s eyes. “I might have eavesdropped when I returned from my patrol shift…”

“Go on,” Yuu coaxed.

“There was a report I had to submit to the Chief, but it sounded like he was busy in his office. It’s hard to not notice him when he raises his voice, sir. I decided to wait outside until he was done, and… well, I got curious.”

“Wasn’t Assistant Chief Clover also present? He just let you do that without a single protest?”

“Assistant Chief Clover was very nice to me! He laughed a little and said ‘make sure you don’t get caught with your hand in the cookie jar’!”

Darn it, Trey!! You could’ve been a LITTLE stricter with this guy…! Yuu groaned, massaging the bridge of their nose. “Okay, I think I’m starting to get a better picture of what went down. You followed me wanting to learn more about the operation.”

Like a curious child chasing after a white rabbit. Still immature, still wondering, and still way over their head.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Deuce insisted. He abruptly stood from the table. “There’s an even more important reason than just satisfying my curiosity, sir!”

Yuu quirked an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“I had to talk to you—without the Chief around. I had to. That’s why I followed you in secret.” The officer nibbled his lower lip, as if biting back something harsh and bitter from coming up.

“Out with it, Mr. Spade.”

“Pardon the intrusion,” Jade coolly interjected. His tone was nonchalant but his bemused smile was a telltale sign that he was relishing in every second of the hot gossip. “Your beverages.”

He slid two glasses between Yuu and Deuce before departing. One was tall and slim—a highball—loaded with carbonated water and fruity gummies. Yellow for jeweled pineapples, red for ruby berries, green for frozen mint, black for floral cacao, and blue from pure azure salt. It was Yuu’s usual, the famed Mystery Drink. The other glass was, by comparison, an ordinary drink of water, a single large, clear cube of ice floating in it.

A bead of sweat ran down Deuce’s jawline. Condensation forming and racing on his glass of water.

Suddenly, the officer slapped both hands on the counter, slamming his face down upon its surface. His navy hair splayed, forehead touching the table in a display of humility.

Yuu almost spilled their drink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m begging you, sir!! P-Please put me on the mission!!” Deuce pleaded, his voice shaky but resolute. “I… I want to help catch the Knave of Hearts too!!”

“If that’s all you wanted, why ask me? Go through the proper channels to…”

“I can’t!! The Chief would never allow it.” His expression creased with shame. “He says rookies need to work their way up from meter maid to working on cases.”

“He’s right. You need to grow into these things, not rush in head-first in a burst of passion.” Yuu made to take a sip of their drink—but the officer’s fist collided with the counter, the liquid inside the glass sloshing overboard. Seltzer water splashed onto their pant leg, leaving a sticky wet spot on a thigh.

“P-Please reconsider! I know how to handle myself in a fight! I’m fast, I could easily catch up with him if it’s a race on foot!”

“Look,” the detective said irritably, “I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish here. Fact is, no matter how much you ask, I wouldn’t want to take you on for this case. You’re too green behind the ears—and sorry, but I just don’t see you as an asset.

“You may be strong and quick on your feet, but it’ll take more than strength and speed to catch the Knave of Hearts. There’s a reason he hasn’t been caught yet.” Yuu tapped at their temple. “It’s this. He’s got smarts, and we need to combat that with smarts of our own.”

“I-I can be smart!! I can try to, at least! Please, just let me try…!!”

Frustrated, Yuu scrutinized the young man again. Their eyes roaming, searching, for detail wrong, a hair out of place.

Years of sleuthing had built up a great amount of cynicism and distrust in the detective. How many times had they pulled back the curtain, revealing the ugly truths hidden out of plain sight? How many bruised egos--both clients and coworkers--had they encountered? People seeking status or to feed their own pride.

Yet when they looked at Deuce, none of that ugliness or ego came through. Here was someone who stubbornly stared right back at Yuu, unwilling to back down, even when his dignity lay in tatters on the floor the instant he prostrated himself.

Another selfish bid for recognition? They ventured, toying with the idea. Maybe personal ambition, looking to climb up in the world.

“... One reason,” Yuu said, holding up an index finger. “Give me one good reason why I should take you on. Convince me.”

Deuce recoiled--as though even he hadn’t expected to have made it this far, or to be taken seriously at all. His brows creased with effort as he racked the recesses of his mind to find the right phrasing.

A second later, he let out a piercing shout.

“GAAAAAAAAH!!”

With a grunt, Deuce grasped his cup of ice water and lifted it to his lips. He hammered the drink in a single swig, releasing a satisfied hoot. The liquid courage had revived the man, returning the spark to him.

In a voice as clear as the drink he had just downed, Deuce said, “It’s for my mom. She’s just about the sweetest, most hard-working person I know.”

He hung his head and slammed his empty cup down, shaking the entire table.

“She raised me as a single parent. Mom never once complained, only wanted the best life for me.” Deuce glared into his glass, speaking with scorn and anger--not at others, but for himself. “And how did I repay her? I... turned to delinquency.

“I acted out because I wasn’t man enough to do the mature thing and work on myself!! She blamed herself for my stupid decisions! I made mom worry for me so, so much...”

Plip, plip.

Deuce faltered, letting quiet tears dribble down his cheeks and landing on the cube of ice left in his glass. Once they made contact with the frozen block, it was impossible to tell what was water and what was salt.

“I swore to myself that I would turn my life around... to show mom that it’s not her fault, that she did all she could to raised someone who could contribute to society!! So I studied really hard at the police academy, and even though my grades were crappy, I managed to graduate...!!”

He choked up, a concoction of fiery passion infused in his stuttering words. “I can finally be that model officer and make a change in the community! But I haven’t done a damn thing...! I just play meter maid while bad guys are out there running free, when I could be out there making this city a safer place for mom and everyone that lives here...!!”

The noises of the lounge seemed to fade into a stoic silence around Deuce. His declaration reverberated loudly. “I have to do this. I need to do this.”

He bowed again, his forehead pressed hard against the surface of the table. The single word he uttered was hoarse, desperate.

“Please.”

Deuce pried himself up almost painfully. The eyes were aquamarine, wet with hot tears. Something shone through them in shades of blue and green, priceless as any treasure: an honesty that burned like an eternal flame.

Yuu startled, striken by a single, haunting revelation: He’s telling the truth.

“... I don’t think I’ve met someone like you before,” they said cryptically. “I don’t doubt your story—but as touching as it is, I don’t know if...”

Hesitation reared its head, and Yuu forced themselves to look away. Couldn’t bear to see him, that wide-eyed sincerity.

Emotion clashing with their sound logic. Two things that shouldn’t have belonged together colliding.

Wait... things that don’t belong together? Things I didn’t expect, surprises and twists to the tale...

A ex-delinquent turned into a policeman. A selfishness turned selfless. An anticipated lie turned into a truth. Something there that hadn’t been before.

The detective’s mind raced, quickly outpacing the words leaving their mouth. A solution which subverted expectations, a trap laced with honey for a man with sticky fingers.

That’s it. We’ll pull a trick of our own.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Yuu abruptly announced. “You’re in on this operation, Mr. Spade.”

“R-Really?!” Deuce’s face nearly tore in half, his volume revving up like a motorcycle engine. “You mean it?!”

“I do.”

Yuu took a cool sip of their Mystery Drink. Flavors from all over Twisted Wonderland cascaded over their tongue—a triumphant, fleeting pleasure.

They set their glass down and bent over, gripping Deuce by the strings of his hoodie. Yuu tugged, bringing the policeman lurching forward.

His clammy forehead against theirs. Centimeters away, his eyes widened. A flushed heat climbed to his cheeks, his voice set in a stammer.

“S-Sir, what are we...”

“You’ll have to follow my instructions very carefully,” Yuu replied with a devious grin. “Listen up, rookie: cuz you’re going to be the star of this show. Here’s the plan...”

The ambience of the lounge drowned out Yuu’s whispers. From afar, their words could only be read through the shapes of their mouth, the increasingly confused and alarmed expressions that Deuce pulled.

Jade observed them patiently, chuckling to himself. “My, my, it seems like our genius detective has found yet another solution.”

CLATTER, CLATTER!!

A tray piled high with empty plates and dishes was slammed down. Jade’s twin peered around the stack, leaning lazily against the bar.

“Eeeh, but I bet against them this time.”

“Playing the contrarian runs its risks.” Jade picked up a glass, staring at his brother through it. The golden orb called his left eye was clear as a topaz. “As for myself, I’m excited to see how this plays out.”

PLAP.

A notepad came down on the table as a third waiter joined them.

“Both of you need to stop gossiping and get back to work,” their manager chided, sliding the notepad—scrawled with fresh orders—to Jade. “Leave the customers to tend to their own business. We’ll soon know the outcome.”

[To be continued...]

224 notes · View notes

erenscoochdestroyerfics · 8 months

Text

Eren x Armin x Reader Friday Night Strip Poker (1)

words: 3.1k

concept: your good friends Eren and Armin are tight as thieves, and one night as you play strip poker, some tension arises and is resolved with another type of group activity...

contains: oral (f/m receiving), slightly sub!armin, slightly dom!eren, slightly domineering reader, threesome (MMF), cucking

y/n uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy!

artwork does not belong to me, so creds to the artists!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You know, you look really nice in that new shirt." Eren smirks.

You are taken aback by Eren's forwardness. You, him, Armin, and Mikasa had shopped in Shiganshina Center yesterday, and you had gotten the shirt from a little boutique. It was a little black ribbed top with grey stitching. I might just have to fuck you right here, Mikasa had said when you stepped out of the dressing room, eliciting hearty laughs from Eren and Armin, and a flustered chuckle from you. There was always a little bit of homoeroticism between you and Mikasa, which is something you decided to put on the back burner when you noticed it a couple weeks before. Besides, she was in a relationship.

It was Friday, and tonight, it was date night for Mikasa and Annie, leaving you, Eren, and Armin to hang out at Eren's apartment in downtown Shiganshina. It was a perfect summer evening; the smell of food floated through Eren's open window from the restaurant below, and the bustle of the street below was faintly audible.

You guys decided to have a game night with some karaoke, and were currently playing Eren's favorite card game, Egyptian Rat-screw, which with these two stubborn boys, gets violent.

A queen of hearts was dealt, then a three of spades, then another queen.

"SANDWICH!" You all yell in unison, slamming your cards down onto the pile. Of course, Eren's card landed first. His fast reflexes were hard to compete with for you and Armin.

"Damn you, Eren!" you yell, and the three of you fall into a heap of laughter.

"More drinks?" Eren offers.

"Such a good host." You tease.

You and Armin sit cross legged watching Eren as he pads across the floor and into the kitchen to pour three glasses of piña colada mixer and add a generous amount of liquor to each.

"Thank you," Armin smiles sweetly as Eren hands him the drink. "My god Eren, bleh." Armin crinkles his nose as he tastes Eren's concoction.

You and Eren laugh softly.

---

Twenty minutes later, the three of you are tipsy messes, with flushed cheeks and easily elicited laughs. There is a warmth in your stomach that usually comes with drinking, which always results in you being a little too flirtatious for your own good. And you had an idea.

"You know what we should play?" You giggle.

"What?" Eren and Armin perk up.

"Strip poker!" You announce, giving jazz hands to accompany your grand idea.

Armin crinkles his nose. "I don't know if thats a good-"

"YES," Eren interrupts, "now THAT sounds like fun!"

"Eren," Armin quickly glances to you before looking back to him, "are you sure this is a good idea-"

"PLEASE pleasepleasepleasepleas-" you playfully beg.

"Yeah, c'mon Arm', it'll be fun." Eren reasons.

"Okay, okay," Armin raises his hands in defeat. "Every time you lose a hand, something comes off, deal?"

"Deal!" You and Eren agree in unison.

You lose the first hand. And the next. Armin loses three in a row, taking off his socks and shirt. Eren loses four, stripping to only his boxers.

The thing is that it was summer, and you had worn sandals to the hangout. You didn't have two buffer losses to be used on your socks, so you were in your bra and underwear. You wish you had worn cuter underwear, but your bralette made your tits look amazing, which you reasoned made up for it.

What you don't notice at that moment is Eren and Armin's frantic exchanged glances, as Armin wiggled around trying to prevent his cock from hardening. He was lucky he still had his pants on, or it would be clear as day.

It could have been the way you were cutely sitting with your legs folded under you and your hands in your lap, accentuating your figure. Or, it could be related to the fact that Armin had harbored a crush on you for years, starting in high school and lasting through college.

All that mattered at that moment, though, was the curve of your supple thighs that Armin and Eren could practically taste, and the upward inflection of your voice when you laughed, which they both had only dreamed of hearing in a less platonic context.

Armin jumped when he looked up from his rearranging of his pants to see you staring right at him.

"Shit, you startled me," his voice grew small.

Your eyes flitted up and down his figure before a huge smile of realization creeped its way onto your face; he was getting hard!

"Armin..." you cooed, voice low and sensual; "are you..." your eyes locked onto his bulge.

"Ummmmm, uh," He stammered. "I'm... I'm sorry." He looked down.

"Don't be," You felt a familiar tingle between your legs. Whether it was flattery or plain old arousal you didn't know, but this intrigued you. More than that- you liked that he was getting hard just by seeing you in your underwear. You wanted him to be all flustered and sensitive by just looking at you; It excited you. Your next thought came bubbling up out of your subconscious like an instinct, and you immediately knew what you had to do next.

You scooted closer to him. "Armin, can I...can I see it?"

How could he resist such a polite request from such a pretty girl?

"What? Um, uh," Armin's face was beet red, and the blush was creeping down his chest. "Uh, like, d'you mean, it it?"

"Your dick." You said plainly, smiling with anticipation.

Eren looked on in entertained awe, not just at the situation, but your sudden boldness. "C'mon Armin, let's see it."

"Uhm," Armin smiled nervously. "Okay, I- I guess," He slipped his pants over his hips and his cock sprang upwards, pulling the fabric of his underwear taut. You smiled wider. He pulled them all the way off and discarded them to the side.

All of that just from seeing you? Your heart swelled with pride. You needed more.

"Can I come closer?" You earnestly awaited a response.

"Uh-" Armin glanced at Eren, before hesitantly nodding. "Mhm".

You crawled the remainder of the distance to him, keeping your eyes locked on his. Once you were in front of him, you folded your legs underneath you and looked at the bulge beneath his underwear. Not many details were visible under the fabric, but one thing was clear: he was big.

"Such a pretty cock," You muttered under your breath.

"Oh fuck," he exhaled; his dick twitching in response to your compliment.

So that's what he was in to. In hindsight, it made total sense.

You laughed sweetly. "So you're into praise, hm?"

Armin was taken aback at how quickly you figured him out, and his blush grew even deeper. "Oh, uh, I mean, I don't really kn-"

"Kiss." Eren interrupted. His voice was commanding and low- this was a side of him you hadn't seen before, but you didn't dislike it.

"Just shut up and kiss already." He cleared his throat.

Although Eren was sat about three feet away from you and Armin, his voice sounded like it was right next to you, which sent a spark of electricity to your lower stomach.

You and Armin glanced at him with surprise initially, before seeing the expression on his face. His cock was semi-hard, and his eyes were dark with lust. You looked back to Armin, whose eyes were already on your face.

You cupped his left cheek and brought your lips forward, stopping just shy of his own before closing your eyes.

A moment later, you felt him tenderly kiss your bottom lip. You reciprocated, beginning to kiss him softly. You climbed onto the edge of his lap, straddling his lower thighs, and wrapped your arms around his neck. A moment later, you felt his tongue; he was hesitant at first, but grew more confident each second that passes.

You groaned lightly.

Kissing Armin felt so fucking good; so much better than you ever would have expected. It's not like he was unattractive by any means whatsoever; in fact, he was an objectively beautiful person. You had thought about him in passing for as long as you could remember; sometimes imagining him late at night when you were alone in your room. You imagined kissing him; feeling him below you; kissing his neck; getting him hard; and making him come. But you could never let it become a full blown crush, because he was your friend. Attraction between friends is normal, you had told yourself. You just need to keep it under control. However well you managed it, you had always felt a twinge of jealously whenever he would hook up with other girls in college.

Now, you were kissing him. In real life. And it was so damn good. He kissed you like his life depended in it; like you were his one true love, and he had waited a century to taste your lips. He kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and it was making you dizzy.

A minute or two later, you were sat further up his thighs than before, your hands were in his hair, and your tongue was in his mouth. His hands moved from your waist to your hips to your thighs as he played with the soft flesh.

You two hear Eren groan, unable to stop himself from audibly expressing his arousal at the sight before him.

"God, you guys, that is so. fucking. hot." Eren breathes.

Armin groans; partially in response to Eren's confession, and partially in response to the fact that you had scooted further up on his lap, to the point where the tip of his dick was pressed nicely onto your clit through the fabric your guys' underwear. You rolled your hips once, pulling another noise from each of you.

It was like that for a little bit; you and Armin swallowing each others little noises as he guided your hips in their steady rotation, while Eren sat to the side, watching slack-jawed as he palmed his dick through his boxers. The little ball of white hot pleasure in your core was starting to increase in intensity with the friction of his cock pressing against you so nicely.

"Wait, we gotta stop, I'm- ah- i'mgonnacuminmypants," Armin manages to say in one breath, the end of which tended towards a whine. He stills your hips with his hands. You stayed on his lap for a second, clinging to him while you caught your breath.

"I guess it's my turn." You hear Eren propose. Always the problem solver.

"C'mere," Eren guides you up off of Armin's lap by your forearms and leads you to his bed. You feel his mattress pressing the back of your legs, and he lays you down gently. "Come sit, Armin."

Armin comes to sit on the bed next to you as Eren climbs on top of you, with his right knee in between your thighs, pressing against you. The friction on your clit as he moves around to settle sends a jolt of electricity from your sternum to in between your legs and makes your vision fuzzy.

"Ah," you moan softly at the stimulation.

"Already?' Eren laughs devilishly. "Armin, you really got her all hot and bothered, huh."

"Uh huh," Armin responds, sounding a bit dazed from the highly aroused state that your make-out session left him in.

"Can I kiss you?" Eren speaks lowly right up against your ear. You can feel the rumble of his chest as he does, sending another dose of arousal to swim around in your lower stomach.

"Please" You lament.

From the moment your lips meet, one thing is clear. Eren Jaeger is a damn good kisser. As a kisser, he is slightly more energetic than Armin, but not at all rough. He takes his time with you, licking and swallowing you up as you come undone beneath him. He makes you go cross eyed and limp with his magic tongue, and you feel close to coming un-fucking-touched.

One of his arms moves from beside your head and cups your waist, squeezing and kneading the skin. His knee between your legs presses so nicely up against your soaking cunt that you could cry. Or die. Or both. All that you know is that you could not possibly feel better than you do in this exact moment.

It is a couple seconds later that you are proven wrong.

"Can I play with your tit?" Eren breathes.

"Mhm" Your saccharine sweet voice slides like velvet past the ears and straight to the cocks of Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert, leaving Armin groaning next to you two as he watches intently.

With his free hand, Eren cups your tit, massaging it and swiping his finger over your hard nipple through the thin fabric of your bralette. The sensation has you squirming and writhing beneath him, as he dips down to kiss your neck. He kisses down your neck, to your chest. Then your navel, to your belly button, to your lower stomach, before stopping.

"Can I go down on you?" Eren almost whines, his voice heavy with arousal.

"Oh god yes, please." You feel like you will explode if you are not touched soon.

"Armin, kiss her and play with her tit, hm?" Eren positions himself right in front of your pussy, placing your thighs on his shoulders. He presses his nose to the wet spot on the fabric of your underwear and inhales, before groaning and releasing a string of curses under his breath. God, you smell so fucking good, he whispers before beginning to practically make out with your throbbing cunt through your underwear.

"Oh- my- god!" You moan loudly in response to Eren hungrily licking at you. You vaguely sense Armin lean over you to kiss you, more sloppily now than before, as one of his hands snakes underneath your bra to play with your nipple.

"Let's get these off, hm?" You hear Eren say. You lift your hips in response as he slides the lime green underwear down your legs.

Armin's relentless swiping of your nipple has you dripping, and his lips on yours are making a wet, sloppy kissing noise. Which sends electricity straight to Eren's dick.

Eren runs his hands up your calf and pushes your leg up and out, kissing the crook of your knee as he does so. He squeezes the flesh of your thigh for a second, slowly making his way higher, before settling into the same position he was in before, with your legs over his shoulders and his face sitting pretty between your thighs. Armin had stopped kissing you to begin licking at your right nipple, while continuing to palm the left, giving you a clear view of Eren as he gazed at your cunt, slack jawed and breathing heavy.

Me mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out, something involving pretty and god and so fucking wet. He rested his head onto your left thigh like a pillow, while reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers along the length of your outer labia. There was stubble, since you hadn't shaved since a couple of days prior, which heightened your sensitivity to the dragging of his fingers.

You were a moaning mess at this point; Armin's relentless stimulation of your nipples and Eren's teasing right next to where you needed him most had you choking back sobs of desperation.

"Eren, please!" You whined. You needed him to touch you and you needed it now.

You heard him chuckle and were about to reiterate before feeling him lick up through your folds, starting below your entrance and landing on top of your clit.

"You're so fucking wet," he mumbled, before beginning to lick at your clit. And it felt so indescribably amazing. You felt like you were on top of the world. On top of the universe even; you felt so good and full of white hot pleasure that you would burst if you didn't start to give some of it back. So thats what you did.

With your left hand buried in Eren's hair, your right was free to give some release to the trembling blonde boy hovering over your chest who was groaning at this point. You snaked your hand in between your bodies and down his torso until you felt him, rock fucking hard, beneath your palm.

As your hand made contact with the head of his cock he gasped, shock reverberating through his whole body. This was such a strong reaction from the smallest of touches. Seeing hearing and feeling how badly he needed you had you visibly smiling.

You began to sloppily jerk him off, and he was a blubbering mess, completely unable to do anything other than fuck himself sloppily into your hand.

Eren seemed to take notice of the blonde's reaction, quickening his tongues pace. You felt the tip of his middle finger dip into you shallowly, teasing for a moment, before going deeper. Once his knuckles were flush with your hips, he began tapping the sensitive place on your upper walls. White hot pleasure flooded your veins. This was so much better than when you did it yourself- he could reach deeper than you could, and was hitting the spot so perfectly that you knew you wouldn't last for more than a minute like this.

Everything became too much- the color in the room increased in saturation, the cacophony of sound around you- from the two boys, Eren's AC, and the street outside- became a symphony. The heat in your core climbed and climbed until it reached its peak.

You cried out in ecstasy as you came, with Eren groaning into the space between your thighs in response the sweet sound of your moans, and Armin letting some whines out as well.

You felt Armin tense up and come as well from the increased stimulation from your shifting around.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks and your legs and torso spasmed as you rode out the high- with the help of Eren, who never faltered. As the waves of pleasure began to grow less intense and further apart, Eren dipped his head up to look at your face. He looked so pretty like that, with messy hair and his mouth and nose covered in your release.

He laughed, surprised at your tear ridden cheeks. "So you're a crier huh? Or was it just that good?"

"I don't usually cry," you lament, out of breath.

Eren smiled to himself at your indirect compliment.

You turned your head to look at Armin, who had slumped down onto your shoulder.

"Was that good, Armin?" You lightly patted the top of his head.

"M-hm." He nodded lightly.

Eren sat back onto his calves, which revealed his still rock hard cock pulling the fabric of his boxers taut.

"We gotta do something about that, huh?" You quipped.

"We don't have to, its okay-" he began.

"I want to." You gazed at him through your eyelashes.

"She's right, Eren." Armin piped in. "Let us help you."

You and Armin shared a knowing glance, before sitting up.

"This is going to be a long night isn't it." Eren muttered darkly.

"Yes it is." You said as you climbed onto his lap, with Armin close behind you to watch.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Okay this was a little rushed towards the end, but it was getting way too long for one part, so I guess this is part one of the Eren x Armin x Reader Friday night fun one shot!!

Also the use of Arm as a nickname for Armin is so unserious but I thought it was hilarious.

Anywaysss hope u like!

#eren x reader #attack on titan #armin x reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #eren x armin #eren x armin x reader #eren smut #armin smut

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pinkestofpanthers · 1 month

Text

i wanna write for richie but i want to test out the waters and actually make sure people like what i write for him because i do have a work in progress for him at the moment...

besides the occasional game of uno, you did not play cards much. every single time someone tried to explain a card game to you, your mind went blank and you found it hard to follow along. and if there was another thing that was to be known about you, you could be a people pleaser at times. in part, it's the reason you're out in the back of the restaurant sitting on a milk crate. richie's right across from you, shuffling the deck of cards that he sneaks into his suit pocket for occasions like this.

this has become a ritual between the two of you. every thursday after closing, he calls over to you and mouths a "you down?". your response is always a big smile, which you didn't even think you could muster because of how late it always is. he grabs three milk crates. two serving as a seats for you and him, and one as your playing table. to thank him for always setting a seat for you, you bring two glasses of water out to the back.

it started on a particular thursday morning. richie strolls into the kitchen looking as giddy as you've ever seen him. he's waving around a box of bicycle brand playing cards and bragging about how eva won them in some sort of gift basket from school and she didn't want them.

"kid doesn't know what she's missing out on," he looks to ebra, who just clocked in for the day. "sometimes all i needed was a deck of cards. a good game of solitaire, rummy, even poker. won my first pack of smokes at fifteen from a game of spit."

"spit?" you looked back to the two men. you didn't even realize you spoke what you were thinking out loud. you catch richie's attention, and he lightly scoffs.

"you've never heard of spit?" it almost sounds like an insult coming from him.

"never even played. i'm not good with card games," you explained, smoothing out the small little wrinkles in your dress shirt. you had tried getting them out of your waitressing uniform the night before, but had no such luck.

"you know what? what about a quick game before we open? i promise i know this game like the back of my hand, i'll tech you in no time," he sounds so sure, like he could shuffle and deal the right amount of cards in his sleep. as you're about to respond, carmy busts out from the walk-in, yelling about how there's only twenty minutes to open and everyone should start prepping their stations. he motioned to you and richie,

"you two, get out front. and no card games!" he shouted, and you both mutter out a "yes chef".

"come find me after closing, i'm gonna school your ass," he whispered as he held the door open for you.

and that's how you're here, week after week without fail. you feel a bit bad because you haven't necessarily gotten the hang of the game yet, and you don't want richie thinking you're not enjoying yourself. just being in his presence, having him acknowledge you and take the time to really teach you how to play, it warms your heart. it makes you feel a way that you want to say is strictly platonic. you feel there might be something there for you two, but you just chalk that up to you being delusional.

you're so close to the end of your game. this is probably your fifth or sixth round, you seriously lose count every single time you two play. richie has three cards left and you only have two. you don't have high hopes because there's been times you've been left with one card and richie won regardless. you've only won two games, and you didn't really win them. richie just made you win, and that made you feel a certain way too.

you stare at his cards. he has one queen of hearts, a two of hearts, and an eight of diamonds. you have an ace of spades and a two of clubs. you could win, if the next card drawn made you lucky enough. richie looks to you, eyebrow raising and hovering his hand over the deck placed to his right.

"come on, hit me, richie!" you both laugh as he turns over the next card, revealing an ace of hearts. richie lets out an "ooh" as he placed down his two of hearts. that's all he can do, and you realize this is truly the game where you finally get your first real win. you start to laugh to yourself as you place down your final cards and leave richie stunned.

"holy shit," he blurted out, double-checking the cards you placed down to make sure there wasn't some kind of mistake. you hated the way it made you giggle, it made you feel like a little girl.

"you didn't make me win this time, did you?" you accuse him, making him hold his hands up in defense.

"i had nothing to do with this, sweetheart. did this shit all on your own," he chuckled and collected the cards and gave them one more shuffle. you never let him know, but you love it when he calls you that. you wish he would only call you that, but you know it's a term of endearment he uses on everyone. sugar, sydney, and even carmy (that only happens when they're yelling at each other in the back). you wonder if one day he could call you something else, a nickname he had just for you.

"now that you've gotten your actual first win, maybe we can try another game. i'm thinking blackjack next, but the cards are in your favor," he cringes at his own joke but you do find some humor in it.

"what about poker? it's a card game everyone knows about, i just don't know how to play it," you look at him and he nods.

"we can do that. i don't play it much anymore. i think last time i played was when me and mikey tried impressing this girl. she turned it into a game of strip poker, though," he explained, packing the cards back into their box.

"well, i wouldn't mind doing that," you don't know what came over you, really. your eyes widened by your own comment, you hope he thought you were just referring to poker itself, not strip poker.

"then we better move it somewhere inside, then. your place or mine?" he winks at you and you know you have him right where you want him.

a/n: please i hope this reaches the right people & my richie girls are able to enjoy this :) if anyone is interested in the richie fic i have completed like 25% of, let me know!

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich fic #the bear #the bear fx #idk what else 2 tag here #i luuuuv richie #kkay bye 4 now :)

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novaenocyon · 1 day

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We need a Wonderlandian word for Princess! Help me out...

As someone who loves the idea of there being a Wonderlandian language (or at the very least, a pseudo-language) that they speak in throughout the Underland, I think there needs to be a word for "princess".

I mean, just think about it---Red is always calling Chloe 'princess' and 'boo', so Chloe needs something to call her as well! And I mean, I know Bridget's title 'Queen of Hearts' is more an ode to her whole cards theme, and she's actually the Empress of Wonderland. While that would make Red an heiress more than a princess, I still think there would a word for it! Plus, Ella might have called Bridget by this term at some point, so it can be used in that way too.

If you look below the cut, there's a few words I've collected (some are canon within the Alice In Wonderland world, others are my own ideas which you can feel free to nab and use yourself). Use those as inspiration and use those beautiful brains so we can think of something cute for Chloe to use to refer to Red as!

I also have a hell of a lot more hc ideas so @ me or reblog this if you want more (BEG FOR IT MWAHAHA /j)

• Regions ~ Witzend (Hatter Land, mountainous), Queast (a brimful land to the East), Snud (Southern land, home to Grampus Blues/Trotter's Bottom), Salazen Grum (aka Desert of Crims), The Tulgey Wood (Tove/Jabberwocky/Jubjub /Bandersnatch territory), Gummer Slough (viscously muddy swamp), Iplam (SW near Tulgey), Caterpillar Bush (within Cheshire domain, near Iplam), Bramble Bay (on the other side of Tulgey Wood), Looking Glass Mountain, Vorpal Mountain,

• Language (Outlandish) ~ Tulgey (Twisty), Wanderer/Wonderer (Any Wonderlandian visiting Auradon), Futterwacken (joyous dance), Futterwack (one who is excitable) Brillig (almost supper; a time), Ezel (all that way; "You want to go up ezel?"), Fairfarren (farewell), Frumious (filthy/smelly), Gallymongers (crazy), Guddler (theif), Guddlegud (grabby hands; nickname) Gyre (spin), Klotchyn (Listen up), Mimsy (flimsy & miserable), Noge (get/go down), Nunz (not yet), Orgal (to the left), Stang (to the right), Outgribe (bellowing whistley sneeze), Saganistute (sage/astute person), Scut (vulgar word for butt), Slithy (lithe/slimy), Yadder (past/beyond), Zounder (behind/behind you), "Naught for usal" (no use in it), "Slurking urpal slackush scrum" (bad word of the most worst meaning), Temmut/Temnut (hero), Temsil (liberator), Gordazzlous (gorgeous/dazzling), Futtertitilles (butterflies), Titilleskips (palpitations of the heart), Titiller (flirt), Crims (grasp/hold or center/heart depending on context), Gnasher/Gnawer (Social terms for fanged Wonderlandians that act differently during teething season; One tears things to ease the ache in their gums, the other prefers to gently hold things in their mouth), Chumbler (A durable & bulky teether for gnashers), Grawnib (A delicate & intricate teether for gnawers), blockspade (blockade),

• Plants ~ Prank Rafflesia (long tendrils, hangs people upside down), Fluttneb nuts (an unusually unimpressive nut with a sweet, caramel center), Nerghumfop poppies (explode with a sticky red dust), Pippernuttle (vibrant & colorful sticky-burrs), Besifentuc root (an ingredient in the WL fever medicine), Chawgritt trees (Grow in the Crims of Salazar Grum; Shed tough, high-nutrience bark that is often used in teethers),

Also a little extra thing, here's a little idea dump on the different card types:

~ Hearts = Status, (telethesia*) ~|~ Diamonds = Protection, (invulnerability) ~|~ Spades = Influence, (teleportation) ~|~ Clubs = Labor, (telekinesis)

*telethesia = the ability to know that something has happened or is in a place without the use of the five main senses. This can be used to slightly predict an outcome or stay in touch with Wonderland when on the surface (Auradon), often in the form of calls or a looking glass.

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misseviehyde · 11 months

Text

PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT

For Erica... ❤️

The echoes of rough voices and clinking glasses filled the air as the clock struck nine and the out-of-place couple looked nervously around.

"You want me to do what?" gasped Emily as she stared incredulousy at her boyfriends bully and backed protectively towards her brother Kyle.

She was standing in the towns roughest bar, surrounded by dangerous looking men and trying to make a bargain to protect her boyfriend. She'd brought Kyle as backup - but what exactly he was supposed to do in an emergency, she wasn't quite sure.

The bully - Mason - laughed, enjoying her shocked and scandalised expression as he expertly shuffled the deck of cards he always carried and with a grin shot them effortlessly from one hand to the other.

"You want me to repeat myself? Your loser boyfriend means nothing to me, so I'll leave him alone if you become MY girlfriend for a little while. All you gotta do is take this card."

With a twist of his wrist, Mason caused a card to shoot out of the deck and effortlessly catching it, he turned it to show her.

It was the Queen of Spades

The card showed an evil and bitchy looking woman seated on a throne - dressed in slutty lingerie and with a wicked expression on her pretty face. Devilish eyes glinted with dark power and soft white skin almost ached to be touched and grabbed.

She was a Queen. An evil, all powerful Queen and the card throbbed with wicked power.

"See this is my kind of woman, a cuckolding, evil, bitchy, snowbunny slut who has a taste for my big black cock," laughed Mason as he held the card nearer to Emily. "The card is magic. All you have to do is take it and you'll become the slut you know you wanna be."

Emily breathed heavily, trying to resist the evil card in front of her. It was surely just a playing card, yet some unreasonable part of herself seemed to suggest that if she took it - she would be changed and transformed in terrible ways just like the bully was suggesting.

For some reason the idea turned her on.

Mason grinned. He was six feet six and muscled and strong. He had a way of getting what he wanted, especially since he had found this deck of cards.

This special MAGIC deck of cards.

The woman on the card almost seemed to toss her hair and smirk at Emily. Her eyes flashed wicked invitiation. "Don't you wanna become be loser? Don't you want to be a bitch?" her expression seemed to say.

Emily felt the temptation to take the card growing. Her nipples were hard. Part of her longed to do it, to take the card from Mason and let it transform her into a Queen of Spades.

She resisted.

"No! I won't do that. I love my boyfriend Max and I have no intention of betraying him."

Mason shrugged.

"That's too bad bitch. You would have made a good Queen. I can imagine how eager you would have been to betray that nerd, to dress like a Goddess and take big black cock. I would have loved to see you dominate your pathetic boyfriend and cuck him. Never mind - you're not my only option."

He turned to Kyle. "How about it loser? Your sister doesn't wanna be a bitch, but how about you? I can turn you from a pussy free virgin loser into my hot, popular girlfriend."

Kyle looked at his sister in shock and she flashed him a worried expression.

"Leave my brother alone you bastard, how dare you suggest he would ever do something like that."

Mason laughed. "Just think about it nerd. Being a tight bodied bitch that gets everything you want, sliding your wet pink lips around my big dick, letting me spoil you... don't you want that?"

Kyle's eyes locked magnetically onto the card. The bitch on it sneered and her voice seemed to lance into his mind.

Oh my Gawd, what a fucking loser. But you could be useful. Take me you fucking simp. Take me and let me twist your weak body into something better. Your fucking bitch sister resisted me - I wanna show her what she could have been. Let me make you into a SLUT.

Visions seared across Kyle's mind. Visions of cocks in each hand, his nails now long and painted. His body was now beautiful, his hair raven black and elegant. Perfect tits hung from his chest. He felt so fucking good.

"Yesssss," groaned Kyle as he took the card.

"Noooo!" screamed Ellie as the card burst into pink flames and vanished.

Kyle moaned and Mason laughed.

"Your bro is gonna be my bitch now Ellie. You should have taken the card when you had the chance."

Dark power flashed around Kyle and wet popping sounds filled the air as his body twisted and contorted. He groaned and giggled, his hands going to his face as his nails lengthened and shot out.

"Ohhhhh fuck YESSSSS make me into your fucking Queen!" he hissed.

Kyle panted and groaned. He was becoming smaller, sexier, more feminine. Wicked lips curved into a hot pink smile as silky black hair fell around his head. Pale white kissible skin now covered his body.

"I can mmmmh feel my personality changing," he gasped. "Your weak nerdy brother is gone, I love how it feels to be bad!"

Kyle smiled as his clothing changed to become more stylish and sexy. His checked shirt tightened to the curves of his new slender body, the material becoming thinner and sexier as it revealed his tempting flesh.

Heels pushed Kyle up and makeup shimmered over his beautiful new face, the dark eyes glittering.

"Ohhhhh fuck yeah," giggled Kyla as she became a horny little snowbunny. A new Queen of Spades had been born and she stretched her lithe body and with a grin strutted over to Mason and draped her arm round his shoulder.

"Mmmmh I'm so fucking hot," she giggled. "Hey Daddy, ready to fuck me?"

No one else in the bar seemed to have noticed the transformation and Mason grinned at Ellie.

"See what you could have had if you'd played your cards right? Your brother is now a real Queen and you're a nobody."

Kyla giggled along with Mason as he led her over to the side exit and they went out into the carpark.

They went over to Mason's car and grinning Mason unzipped his fly and got out his big cock. Kayla moaned excitedly and sinking to her knees began to suck.

Ellie watched her former brother begin to deepthroat nine inchs of big black dick. Kyla seemed to be loving it. Her eyes shone with satisfaction and desire. She was made for this.

*GLUG GLUG GLUG*

Her head slid up and down the magnificent cock, sucking as she went. She looked so hot as she knelt before Mason and worshipped him.

Breaking for air, a massive grin on her face Kyla three back her head and groaned in raw animal pleasure.

"Fuck yessss I LIVE for big black cock," she growled as saliva and precum dripped out of the corner of her mouth.

"Then you'll like what happens next," grinned Mason as his fingers danced over the keys of his mobile phone. "Now get back to sucking."

Kyla obeyed and Mason slid his hands into her silky raven hair. This bitch was amazing, the card had given her the skills and powers of a porn star.

Ellie watched with tears in her eyes as her brother began to remove his clothing. Kyla's breasts were perfect and round. Mason grabbed one and squeezed.

Lifting her up, he bent her over the car and slid up her skirt. Kneeling behind Kyla,m Mason thrust his head into her ass and began to lick her pussy from below. She moaned and spread her legs, collapsing over the bonnet of the car and moaning uncontrollably as he made her wetter and wetter with his tongue.

"Ohhhh fuck baby, you're making me SO wet," she groaned, her eyes rolling up in her head as she quivered. "Pleeeease I need that big dick inside me."

Standing up behind her, Mason pushed the tip of his cock into Kyla's tight virgin pussy. She had never been fucked before, but now she was a Queen of Spades and ready to be a slut.

Ellie felt a mix of emotions as she watched. Horror, anger... but also jealousy as she saw how hot and bitchy her brother had become. She was jealous of Kyla's perfect body and the pleasure now on her face as Mason stretched her open.

"Fuck YESSSSS!" screamed Kyla as Mason went deeper inside her and gently began to rock his hips back and forward.

Kyla lay on the bonnet of the car, her legs spread as Mason began to fuck her. Grabbing her hair he pulled her ecstatic head back and began to pump faster and faster.

Kyla screamed and moaned, uncaring they were fucking in public as her lover began to give her the hard pounding her Queen of Spades body now demanded. Black cock was all that mattered.

The door to the bar suddenly opened and two more black guys walked out. Mason's friends had come as soon they had been messaged. Ignoring Ellie they walked over to the rutting couple and unzipped their flies too.

"Mmmmhh gimmee," groaned Kyla as she took a cock in each hand...

For the next thirty minutes Ellie watched helplessly as her brother was spit-roasted, ridden and fucked by Mason and his friends. Kyla's stamina seemed endless and her hunger for BBC insatiable.

Ellie jealously watched her brother cumming multiple times, then finally being cum over himself.

Her face and tits dripping with cum, Kyla finally seemed to notice Ellie. Walking over she laughed as she pinned her sister up against a wall and French kissed cum into her mouth.

"You should have taken the card bitch. I'm Queen now and I'm going to make you into my subby little sister. No one will remember Kyle... except you by the way. This is the way it is now. Oh by the way, a QoS needs to cuck white boys so I'm going to steal your boyfriend, then cuck him with Mason."

Strutting away to clean herself up, the new Queen blew a cummy kiss at her bull and laughed as she walked into her new life.

She had certainly played her cards right...

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #bully #snowbunny #bbc

218 notes · View notes

irafuwas · 1 year

Text

Electric Dreams Summary: Malleus’s 1000th birthday is coming up, and the Queen decides it’s as good a time as any to abdicate the throne. Plans for the coronation soon get underway, and when Malleus sits down to write a list of people he’d like to invite to the ceremony, he realizes that almost all of them are already dead. Content Warnings: Major character death Pairings: None Length: 16k (Header artwork from here)

You can either read it after the cut or on AO3!

They bury Silver next to his father in the plot behind their dilapidated little cottage, just as he’d wanted. It’s a warm, sunny day, and the meadow around their home had lately exploded in yellow buttercups and golden cowslips and cool, hushed bluebells, as if the earth had flung its arms wide open in rejoice of the lone casket being lowered into its shadowy embrace. After they smooth over the last clump of dirt and the final eulogy has been read, the tiny procession splits up - some going to loiter in the garden, others heading inside the cottage to dab their damp faces and seek refuge from the heat.

Although Malleus and Sebek never did get to discuss the details of the funeral before Silver passed, they both feel confident in their choice of a modest ceremony – he never was one for frills and fanfare, after all. But even with the small crowd gathered, the cottage is livelier than it’d been in a long while. There’s a spread of traditional Briar Valley fare laid out on the tables – steaming dumplings heavy with ground veal and spices, piles and piles of roast pork and sausages, and fresh apple strudel topped with a blanket of powdered sugar - and Malleus and Sebek can hear the clink of tableware mixing with the murmurs of low voices all around them. But neither of them speak as they quietly sip on their tea.

After a while, Malleus gets up to refill his glass, and he realizes on his way to the kitchen that it’s Deuce Spade who’s been chatting with Kalim al-Asim outside in the garden for the past half hour. He glances at them through the kitchen window as he reaches for the kettle.

They’ve both aged considerably since the last time he saw them. The edges of Kalim’s eyes crinkle severely every time he smiles at something the other man says, but his laugh still rings out as loud and as true as ever. Deuce’s dark eyes crinkle in return, and his hair has frosted over to a dull white that rivals even Kalim’s near-translucent locks. He reaches out to pat a trembling hand on Kalim’s back once his laughter breaks down into a rattling cough.

Malleus turns away, frowning. He goes to rejoin Sebek in the living room, raising an eyebrow at the untouched plate of sausage still resting on his lap.

“Are you not hungry?”

Sebek doesn’t look up as he shakes his head. He sets the plate down on the table and rubs his arms as though he’s cold. It’s a nervous habit that has disturbed him since he was a child, and he scowls once he realizes he’s doing it again.

Sebek had lost his father a few decades prior. He remembers the funeral as though it were yesterday; it felt like he’d just finished washing all the dirt from his hands a few moments ago, and then he blinked, and it was already time to pick up his shovel again.

There are nights where he finds the black maw of the sky is somehow darker and infinitely vaster than usual. Its magnitude, its perfect darkness - blacker than obsidian, blacker than the purest coal, blacker than the gentle luster of a raven’s feathers – immobilize him. Only then, as he lies in bed, transfixed by the endless night, as whispered prayers begin to spill from his lips - at times haltingly slow, at times rushing faster than a waterfall - only then does he admit that he misses his father. The man’s death had ripped a hole in his heart that still hadn’t healed, and Silver’s passing had knocked him down right when he was finally ready to try and get back up again.

He never could comprehend how his mother had remained so stalwart and strong all this time, nor how she’s still retaining her composure at the funeral right now. He’s been watching as she flutters from one guest to another, thanking them for coming, and checking if they need their glasses or plates refilled. It’s striking how young she looks in comparison to his former schoolmates, and he wonders if everyone else felt just as shocked when they saw him and Malleus mingling with the guests earlier.

It takes a few moments for Sebek to put his thoughts together, and then he says, quietly, “I just… I just don’t understand why humans are put on this world for such a short time? What good does it do them - do anyone - to lead such short lives…?”

Malleus doesn’t know what to say, or if he should even say anything at all. He tries to think back on all the times Lilia had soothed his fears as a child, tries to cobble together an appropriate answer based on the bits and pieces of hazy memories that flit through the caverns of his mind. But he knows that nothing he comes up with would help.

Finally, Malleus replies, “Yes, that’s… That’s something I’ve long pondered, as well.”

Sebek balls his fists in his lap. “Damn humans!” he chokes out, his voice barely a whisper. “Damn them all!!”

Malleus places a hand on Sebek’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. If he cannot imitate Lilia’s soothing loquacity, then at least he can do this much for the boy, he decides.

The minutes turn into hours, and the small crowd begins to disperse as the sun dips low into the sky. The air is still warm when Malleus at last steps outside the cottage and begins to head home.

Sebek ends up staying behind the longest. Malleus can hear his sobs echoing through the forest all the way back to the castle.

The day he received news of Silver’s passing, a part of Malleus - a small part he never wished to think about or speak of - was surprised that he ended up living as long as he did. Malleus had always feared, in private, that the boy’s broken heart would claim him much sooner, and he never could decide if he felt saddened or relieved that Silver had waited so long before setting off to go join his father.

In the weeks leading up to the funeral, he’d often think of Silver. Sometimes, the Silver he remembered was just a tiny infant napping in his arms, and other times, he was a bright-eyed boy waving around a crude wooden sword in the air. Occasionally, he’d think back to their years at Night Raven College, and he could still clearly picture Silver’s entrance ceremony in his mind. Lilia was positively electrified that day - he trembled with excitement as he stood next to Malleus in the darkness of the mirror hall. The two of them exchanged proud smirks when the mirror announced the boy’s sorting into Diasomnia.

Malleus never liked to think of Silver in his final years.

As the decades passed, his once lustrous hair eventually faded to a lifeless gray, and wrinkles and worry lines tugged down at what used to be supple skin. And yet – even as he approached the twilight of his life, there was still that same glint in his auroral eyes, still that same air of nobility about him that hadn’t dulled in the slightest. And still that same stubborn streak he’d inherited from his father.

Even a weeklong shouting match with Sebek wasn’t enough to get the aging man to step down from the Imperial Guard. They’d both made great strides in their careers, and Silver was fiercely proud of his hard-earned title – the first ever human to attain the rank of Colonel in Briar Valley’s armed forces. But the aging man was struggling to keep up, some days failing to draw his heavy longsword without it crashing to the ground. And Sebek was quick to notice.

“You utter moron!” Sebek had snarled at him one evening. “You’re going to work yourself to death at this rate!”

Silver sighed. “You think I don’t know that? This is what I… This is what my father would’ve wanted, so…”

Any mention of Lilia always brought the conversation to a quiet end. And then night would fall, and then the night would turn into day, and their argument would begin anew together with the rising of the sun.

Malleus finally stepped in when he found out that Silver had cracked a rib while sparring with some of the new recruits during morning training. He signed the knight’s honorable discharge papers later that afternoon.

After Silver stepped down from the Guard, he and Malleus would often walk together through the young prince’s rose garden. They’d go early in the morning, before the sun had climbed too far overhead and her amber rays were only just starting to bleed into the hazy blue of the cloudless sky.

It was something they used to do from time to time when Silver was little. The rose seeds Malleus’s grandmother gifted him every year on his birthday were rarely ever the same - one year, he’d get a mix of floribunda and polyantha seeds; another, damask and tea – and he would hold the baby up to the rose bushes and point out all the different types of flowers. He’d tell him about how old garden roses differed from the modern varieties, and when and where to do your pruning and why it was so important. And the baby would listen and listen.

“Do you still remember how you’d try and help me prune the roses when you were little? I’d hold the shears for you, and you’d try to press down on the handles with all your weight, but they wouldn’t budge. Your entire body would shake all over with the effort and you had the most serious look on your face. It was always so hard for me not to laugh.”

Silver smiled but said he didn’t remember. He began saying that a lot as he grew older.

“Are any of the roses here the same ones from when I was a child?”

Malleus scanned his garden and pursed his lips before answering, “No, my oldest bush is only about 40 years old. Many of these flowers are the descendants of seeds I planted during your infancy, however.”

“Amazing,” Silver whispered. He reached out and traced a gnarled finger along the velvet petals of a young rose, still not yet unfurled.

“What is?” Malleus asked.

“Ah, I was just thinking about something I’d read in a book lately. It said there’s trees in Twisted Wonderland that are older than even the oldest living human. And I was thinking, long after I’m gone, those trees will probably still be standing there, right? And the planet will keep turning, and the sun will keep shining... It’ll be like I was never even here.”

Malleus furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “…And you find that amazing? You aren’t afraid to leave this world and miss all those things?”

“I’m trying not to be,” Silver replied, a tired smile tugging at his dry lips. “I guess I just...”

Silver searched for the right words. “…I just take comfort in knowing that your roses will keep blooming for you long after I’m gone, my Lord.”

Malleus had wanted to snap at him, wanted to whirl on him like a viper and spit, “But what will I take comfort in?”, but the words got caught in the lump forming in his throat. He turned away from Silver and cursed himself for acting so childishly.

At Silver’s funeral, Malleus’s eyes blurred as they lowered the casket into the ground. He tried to focus on something else, on anything other than the sound of dirt and rocks being heaved onto the wooden frame, and he clung desperately to the shard of a memory from what felt like a lifetime ago.

He’s standing in Lilia’s cottage, and Lilia offers Malleus to hold the baby for the first time. Malleus holds out his hands, but then draws them back in hesitation.

“And you’re certain I won’t injure him?”

“Oh, you’re such a worrywart. It’ll be fine…” Lilia thinks for a moment and then continues, “Ah, I know. Just think of him like he’s one of your roses! You’re always so gentle with them, aren’t you?”

Gentle. A word most would refrain from using to describe Malleus, what with all those rumors and stories of his awful powers. (The Halloween incident still hangs fresh in his mind.) But Lilia was correct – Malleus fawned over his roses like nothing else.

When he was little, he would cup their pleasant, pink faces in his hands with a featherlight touch and whisper to them the secrets of his child’s heart. And every year, when the juvenile buds slowly began to unfurl for him, stretching out their newborn petals in welcome of the boy’s fanged smile and glittering eyes, the joy that washed over him was gentler than any spring rain and warmer than any afternoon sun. They were more precious to him than all the jewels in the castle vaults combined - his own dragon’s hoard of living rubies, topaz, rose quartz, and garnet.

And so he nervously accepts the tiny infant that Lilia holds out to him and he shifts the child awkwardly in his arms. Be gentle. He’s like one of your roses. Be gentle, be gentle, be gentle.

The sound of Sebek loudly clearing his throat next to him ripped Malleus from his memories. He whispered a quiet “Thank you” and took the handkerchief from Sebek’s outstretched hand.

Malleus buried a piece of his heart together with Silver that day, and he buried yet another piece when Sebek passed away a couple of centuries later. And when a record-breaking snowstorm ripped through Briar Valley that winter and decimated his rose garden in its icy wrath, he found he simply did not have the energy to mourn any more.

II.

Malleus can tell that someone is standing outside his room. He figures it’s one of the young servants in training; he can hear her muttering the lines she must’ve been instructed to say as she paces back and forth for a few minutes.

Finally, a tiny voice squeaks out, “Umm, Lord Malleus...?”

Malleus looks up from the book he’d been reading and sees his door has been opened just a crack. A young girl dressed in a servant’s uniform peeks through, wide-eyed.

“Yes, what is it?”

Perhaps out of fear, or excitement – or a juvenile mixture of both – she hurriedly blurts out, “Her M-Majesty requests your audience at once!!” and then promptly shuts the door with a soft thud.

Malleus sighs and tells the closed door, “Thank you. I’ll go to her now.”

“You called for me, Grandmother?”

His grandmother, Queen Maleficia, smiles broadly at him as he steps into the throne room. She bids him to come sit, and he lowers himself hesitantly into the empty chair – the king’s throne - next to her. It’s seldom that he ever comes into this room, and rarer still he’s allowed to sit there. The hard armrests dig into his elbows, but he doesn’t complain.

“Malleus, I called you here to talk about something very important,” His grandmother says with sparkling eyes. “Your birthday is coming up!”

“Yes?”

“Your one thousandth birthday, my dear. A momentous occasion for us dragon fae, for you’ll finally become a full-fledged adult.”

“Ah.” The cobwebbed gears in the attic of Malleus’s mind begin to turn. He has an idea of where this conversation is headed.

“And as such, I’ve been thinking… I’ve ruled over Briar Valley far longer than I had ever intended. I meant to step down from the throne and let your parents rule after you were born. But of course, things didn’t quite turn out the way I had envisioned.”

His grandmother’s smile falters for a moment, and then she continues, “But now, I feel certain the time is right. My precious grandson, you have grown into such a wonderful young man. You are clever and resourceful, and you have a passionate interest in history and foreign affairs the likes of which I’ve never seen in any budding politician before.”

“I know you’ve faced so, so much loss in your young life already, and you’ve come through it with such grace and humility.” She reaches out to clasp his hand in hers, and Malleus shivers at the shock of her cold skin.

“There is no doubt in my heart that you are ready for this. And that Briar Valley is ready for you.”

Malleus isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say, so he just smiles and then whispers, “Alright.”

“Excellent!” His grandmother rises and claps her hands together loudly. “Someone, go fetch me the members of the royal planning board! We have a coronation to get ready for!” She turns to Malleus, and he rises, too.

“Do go ahead and start thinking about whom you’d like to invite, my dear. I’ll have the board reserve some seats up front for your friends.”

Malleus’s birthday comes and goes with much fanfare and hoorah, and once all the confetti is swept away and the banners and flags are taken down and he no longer has to dread passing a window and risk seeing an effigy of his awkward face staring back up at him from the town square, Malleus takes some time to think about whom he’d like to invite to his coronation. He sits at the desk in his room, pen and paper spread out on the table before him. He sits there for a while, as still as stone, until finally, like a petrified creature released from decades of slumber, he slowly, stiffly reaches out, takes his pen in hand, and starts to write.

He starts with whatever names come to mind first – his old classmates and instructors from Night Raven College, the people he met during his brief internship, the politicians and members of foreign royalty he’s had to endure countless boring dinners and stuffy balls with. His little list grows longer and longer, and he grabs another sheet of paper after filling up the first one. As he sets his pen down after a couple minutes of hurried writing, he’s surprised, but pleased, at how many names he ended up recalling.

And now the difficult part: He must choose the fortunate souls who shall be blessed to attend the coronation of King Malleus Draconia. He smirks and starts with the first sheet of paper, slowly reading aloud the name he’d written at the top. And then he frowns. No, you can’t invite Kingscholar; He passed away already. You attended his funeral, don’t you remember? He picks up his pen again and draws a black line through the name. And then he reads the next name and recalls Sebek once complaining about how the television programs wouldn’t stop replaying Vil Schoenheit’s movies for weeks on end after his death, and he strikes through it. And he does the same for the following name, and the one after that. His list turns into a jumble of scratchy lines, and then he moves to the second sheet, crossing out one name after the next. He realizes with a shaky sigh that most of these people are already dead.

But there is one name that he’s not so sure about, it’s the only one that stands unmarred in his clean handwriting amidst the mess of black ink: Ortho Shroud, younger brother of the late Idia Shroud. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen the tall, lanky figure of the elder brother, but he’s certain he wasn’t at Silver’s funeral. Only Ortho attended; he’d mentioned something about once treating some injury or other that Silver had incurred at the equestrian club. Malleus had smiled as he listened to the story back then, and he smiles again now as he recalls Ortho’s animated figure telling the tale.

He leans back in his chair and rests his chin on his hand as he thinks. Malleus never quite grasped just what the boy was, only that he wasn’t quite human, but not fully machine, either. If he truly was some form of inorganic creature, then perhaps there’s a chance that he’s still…

Malleus moves aside his stationery with a sweep of his arm and pulls out the laptop he keeps stored in the drawer underneath his desk. The construction of Briar Valley’s first nationwide power grid and internet network had recently been completed a couple of centuries ago, and electricity now thrummed throughout the land. It took some getting used to, especially for a folk so accustomed to their magic, but the citizens quickly grew to enjoy the novelties of television and the world wide web. Malleus had also recently learned of the wonders of online chess, and he proudly considered himself a bit of a gamer.

He opens up his email and begins his search. There is a faint memory that clings weakly to his brain of Lilia sending him a message not long after he’d departed for the Land of Red Dragons. There was a grainy picture attached showing Lilia’s pale, outstretched hand, his nails painted cherry red, pointing to some snowcapped mountains towering in the distance. If his memory serves right, Lilia had sent that email to a number of addresses, and one of them might’ve had Ortho’s name in it. He scrolls through his archived folders and clicks on the one he created just for Lilia’s old emails. It takes only a moment to find the message he was thinking of. He remembers now that it was the last time he’d ever heard from the man. He didn't see Lilia again until Silver dutifully retrieved his small body from those frozen peaks.

He doesn’t dare open the attached picture. He quickly scans through the list of names and addresses in the “to” field until he finds the one he was hoping to see, and with shaking hands, he begins a new email. He types a curt message asking the boy how he’s been and if he’d like to stop by for a few days so they can catch up.

He clicks “send”, and then folds his hands in his lap as he waits for a response.

III.

Ortho comes to Briar Valley later that week, and Malleus is surprised at the pure quietness of the boy’s arrival. He’d expected something more grandiose from a member of the Shroud clan, like dark clouds of smoke and exhaust and great explosions of light. But there is none of that – Ortho merely descends from the sky with all the whispered elegance of an owl gliding through a nighttime forest, and he alights a few meters away from where Malleus had been waiting for him in the courtyard.

They shake hands and say their hellos, and Ortho adds that the current director of Styx sends her greetings. Malleus raises a thin, black eyebrow at this.

His curiosity piqued, he asks, “Is she, ah, descended from your brother, then?”

Ortho laughs, high and bright like the aluminum wind chines that hang from some of the trees in the courtyard. “Oh, no! My big brother never got married or had children. After he passed away, another branch family in the Shroud clan took over Styx, and their descendants have been running things at the Island of Woe ever since.”

As they walk towards the castle gates, Ortho explains that the new management agreed to let him stay with them after his brother died, and he’s been spending most of his time the past few centuries overseeing the island’s security system. (Apparently, he can operate it remotely via “satellite”, but for Malleus the word only conjures up visions of the moon, and he tilts his head in perplexment.)

Malleus asks, “And you’re absolutely sure it’s alright for you to be here? I don’t want any problems with Styx, especially not so soon before the coronation.” His grandmother had scowled deeply when he told her whom he’d been planning to invite, and he was eager to assuage her concerns.

“Yeah, Styx is still as secretive as ever, but they’re pretty lax when it comes to me leaving the island. As long as I don’t divulge any top-secret info, of course.” Ortho finishes with a wink.

“I see. Good, then let me show you to where you’ll be staying.”

They walk together to Ortho’s guest room, and the castle servants scatter before them like a parted sea. Malleus knows they’re staring; he can see the white faces of the chambermaids peeking out from behind half-shut doors, but he doesn’t mind. He remembers how intrigued he’d been when he first met Idia Shroud and the little robot that always seemed to be hovering in his shadow. And how shocked he was when the device opened its mouth and began to speak.

Malleus, too, finds himself glancing now and then at the boy walking beside him. He doesn’t look much different from how Malleus remembers. He’s not grown any taller, and his fiery hair isn’t any longer than before. He still has that soft, round face, and those striking yellow eyes and that small mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Later, while Ortho unpacks his charging apparatus and surveys the room for the closest outlet, Malleus asks the question that’d been pestering him since his guest’s arrival.

“Ah, it made my big brother uncomfortable whenever he saw my face, so that’s why I always wore either a visor or a mask while he was alive. Since he’s gone now, I don’t bother with covering up my face anymore.”

“What? Why would your face make him uncomfortable?”

Ortho looks over his shoulder from where he’s kneeling before the outlet he selected. He states plainly, “Because it reminded him too much of his little brother, Ortho Shroud.”

Malleus blinks. And then he frowns. “Wait…. Seeing your face – you, his little brother, Ortho Shroud – reminded him too much of his little brother…. Ortho Shroud. And that made him… uncomfortable?”

“Correct!” Ortho grins like an absolute imp, and Malleus wonders if he’d been studying up on fae humor before coming here.

“….I must say, the more I learn about your family, the more bizarre you all sound.”

Ortho laughs again. “You have no idea.”

Once Ortho is done packing, Malleus asks if he’d like to go tour the valley with him. He answers with an excited “Absolutely!”, and they make their way back out to the courtyard. The day is still young, and a sky as blue as freshly picked morning glories greets them once they step outside.

At the castle gates, Malleus asks Ortho to wait a moment. He squats before the boy and takes his smaller hands into his own. Lilia had once told him that children listen better when adults get down to their level, and Malleus wants to make absolutely sure that Ortho understands the gravity of what he’s about to say.

“Listen to me well, Little Shroud. Most of the fae here are kind and virtuous people, and I trust the castle staff not to lay a hand on you. But I cannot say the same about our townspeople and countrymen. I fear a young child of man like you… Yes, even one made of cool metal and not the warmth of living flesh and blood, will attract those who wish you harm. If, when we are away from the castle, I take your hand and draw you close to me, you must not let go, for it means they are near. You must not listen to their whispered temptations; you must not believe their siren lies. Do you understand? If they gaze at you with eyes of black fire, if they promise you Heaven’s greatest rewards, if you turn to them and see your brother’s face and hear his voice calling out your name, you must look away. Can you promise me you will do that?”

Ortho nods his head slowly, and they set off.

They begin with a cursory flight over the valley; Ortho using his machinery, and Malleus his magic. Malleus restricts his speed at first, concerned he might accidentally leave the boy behind. He’s pleasantly surprised to find Ortho easily keeping pace with him, and when he cries out into cold winds asking if they might go a bit faster, Ortho responds with a thumbs up and a sharp-toothed smile.

And so they race over the castle town, past the church, whose twin spires watch over the land like a pair of dark sentinels, past the cobbled streets and the timber houses of the residential districts, past the bustling marketplace and the quiet town square. Malleus explains how all the buildings radiate around the castle like the petals of a flower surrounding its pistil, and he points down to the linden trees - dull and naked in their meager spring attire - that line nearly every street. He tells Ortho that come summer, the whole town will be bathed in their flowers’ intoxicating perfume, warm and soft and sweet like honeysuckle. The cool breeze feels delicious on Ortho’s skin, and the low buzz of Malleus’s voice beside him is as tender as the overhead sun.

As they circle overhead once more, Ortho is surprised that no one seems to pay them any mind. Not the merchants behind their stalls, and not the townspeople passing by; not the swarm of children playing tag in the maze of shadowy back alleys; not the red-faced shepherd barking at his sheep to move, and not his perfectly unhurried sheep. None of them so much as glance their way as they fly by. Ortho glides next to Malleus and asks him why that is, and Malleus laughs. “My people are deeply intertwined with magic; it courses through our veins from the moment we enter this world. Seeing two people soaring through the sky is no more riveting to us than a toad that hops or a cow that lows. Many of us begin flying at a few months old, after all.” Malleus laughs again as Ortho’s mouth drops open in astonishment.

They leave the castle town behind them, flying faster and faster, beyond the evergreen forests and the rolling hillsides and the miles of grassy fields glimmering with white snowdrops and yellow daffodils. Malleus describes with a smile how beautiful the valley looks in the summer, when the wheat is heavy and ripe for harvest and the modest green farmland transforms into an ocean of gold. He loves windy summer days especially, loves how the acres and acres of wheat undulate and dance in time to the rhythm of the breeze, the entire countryside sighing and rolling like gilded waves as far as the eye can see.

They press on, and Malleus leads Ortho towards the mountain range that rises in the distance like the spikes on a dragon’s back. The farmland below transforms once more into lush grasslands and forests, and a massive river cuts across the valley plateau.

The sight reminds Ortho of a passage he’d read in one of his travel guides:

“Briar Valley is a relatively small nation, flanked on all sides by jagged mountains and bisected by a massive, winding river that many of the locals continue to worship as an ancient Lindwurm. The winters are bitter cold, and the summers are pleasantly warm; it is a fertile land, and the majority of the county’s foodstuffs is produced within Briar Valley’s borders.”

Ortho’s eyes follow the twisting body of the river, and he can easily imagine why the fae revere it as a deity - the mouth of the great waterway stretches infinitely wide like the jaws of a python as it spills into the freezing ocean. But it’s the mountains that truly take his breath away. They are a thousand times bigger and a hundred times darker than what he’d been envisioning based on the photos he’d seen, and their obsidian bulk nearly consumes the skyline.

Malleus points a pale, clawed finger at the angry mass of black rock and stone that rises up taller than all the others. “That is the Forbidden Mountain,” he shouts above the roar of the wind. “Legend says the Thorn Witch once ruled over the valley from atop its peak.”

“It’s amazing!” Ortho shouts back.

They stay there for a while, quietly admiring the black obelisks towering before them. Ortho almost wonders if the Thorn Fairy might still be lurking up there somewhere on that dark peak, the shadow of her terrible specter still searching in vain for the lost princess after all these millennia. He dispels the thought with a shiver.

Finally, Malleus turns to Ortho and says, “Come, let us return to the castle town. There’s a place I want to show you.”

Even from high above, the church had looked magnificent; and now, standing before it on the ground, it’s absolutely breathtaking. The fae’s connection with Nature - a glorious mixture of reverence and intimacy – is evident all throughout the building’s architecture. The façade is richly decorated with a host of stone creatures: rearing bucks locked eternally in battle, golden eagles and barn owls and songbirds frozen in flight, and foxes and hares circling each other in an endless hunt. From up close, Ortho now sees that the bulging lines he’d noticed winding around the twin spires are delicately sculpted rose vines, replete with thorns and all. Jagged spikes erupt down the spines of the flying buttresses, reminiscent of a beast Ortho doesn’t quite want to think about, and they stretch and yawn as they support the heavy weight of the towering walls. As they circle the building, Malleus happily points out all the different gargoyles that snarl at them from their guard posts up high; Ortho had nearly overlooked them in the forest of masonry and metalwork, and he stumbles as he tilts his head further and further back just trying to take it all in. All the travel guides that he’d downloaded had lavishly praised the church as the “Pinnacle of the Briar Valley Gothic style”, and now he understands why.

Malleus ushers Ortho towards the heavy bronze doors at the entrance of the church, and they head inside. A few members of the laity sit hunched over in the wooden pews within, murmuring prayers in a language that Ortho cannot understand. His eyes flick up to Malleus’s face, and then down to his hands, which lay unmoving against his side. After a moment’s hesitation, Ortho takes a step forward, and then another, and he quietly walks down to the end of the aisle, walking just the slightest bit faster whenever he has to pass one of the fae mulling about. Finally, he reaches the apse and the alter. He doesn’t notice Malleus joining him a moment later; he is far too entranced by the stained-glass windows that tower before him. The afternoon sun spills through the windows and pools onto the floor below, bathing him and Malleus in a shower of multicolored light.

In his mind’s eye, Ortho can see the master architect urging his laborers to keep building higher, to push the spires taller, up into the sky, closer and closer to the seat of Heaven’s mighty throne. He can see the sculptors playing with light as though it were clay, molding it in their calloused hands and transforming it into the countless stained-glass windows that crown the head of the altar. He thinks about the townspeople emerging from their dull and darkened homes and blinking into the bright light of the completed church for the first time. What must they have felt? Had their hearts ached for something they couldn’t find the name for, like his heart aches now? Had their eyes burned hot with the threat of strange and unfamiliar tears, like his eyes are burning now? Had they felt as overwhelmed and insignificant and small and suffocated as he is feeling now? Oh, and to think! To consider - how many weary pilgrims, how many desperate worshipers and weathered souls have stood in this very same spot before him, gazing up at these same venerated panes of kaleidoscopic glass and feeling what he feels; how many millennia upon millennia has this architectural wonder united the peoples of its creator in whispered awe and indescribable rapture!

Ortho takes a shuddering breath, and he steps back to admire the windows once more. He’s seen tracery like this elsewhere, in the churches of the Queendom of Roses and the cathedrals of the City of Flowers. The square sections of glass come together to create a series of fantastic images, and they remind Ortho of the illustrated fairytale books he used to read with his brother when they were little.

Ortho tilts his head back and focuses on the pictures up at the very top.

He sees:

The golden fields of corn and wheat that dot the valley’s farmlands.

Lush forests, twisting rivers, towering mountains, and azure lakes.

Smiling children - with horns and antlers sprouting from their foreheads and wings fluttering on their backs - dancing in a circle, arms linked together.

A fae mother sitting before her cottage and nursing her child, the baby’s tiny horns but white specks on its head.

Ortho’s eyes travel further down. The glass panes gradually transition from cool greys and blues and bright yellows to duller oranges and reds. Further and further down, the redder the panes become, like tongues of fire spilling over the window.

He sees an image of a human man and a fae woman holding hands, with shy smiles on their faces. Both the woman’s wings and the human are gone in the next image, and her smile has warped into a scream. He can’t quite tell what happens after that.

“What is that grey substance the humans are forging in that pane there?”

“Iron.” Malleus hisses the word, as though it burns him just to say it.

Ortho doesn’t say anything as he turns back to look at the windows.

He sees:

Human and fae armies marching towards each other with swords drawn and war flags raised.

Villages engulfed in flames.

A smokey battlefield littered with armored bodies.

Flashes of lightning splitting a crimson sky.

And finally, the last image: A black dragon, its wings spread wider than a hurricane. The glass surrounding it blazes as red as blood.

“Malleus Draconia… What… is this?”

“My people’s history. Our triumph.”

Malleus swallows thickly, and then he whispers, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

All Ortho can do is nod. He dare not defile this place any further with his words.

It’s late afternoon by the time they return to the castle. They head to the dining room to get some lunch, and Ortho watches wide-eyed as a horde of servants materialize as soon as Malleus takes his seat.

Malleus lifts his hand, and a servant steps forward to slide the day’s menu into his waiting fingers. He contemplates for a moment, and then announces he will have the slow roasted pork shoulder served with shredded sauerkraut, potato dumplings, and gravy. A young chambermaid asks if Ortho would like any refreshments, as well, and he declines her kind offer with a smile. His oral intake unit isn’t equipped, and he doesn’t feel bothered enough to go fetch it from his room. He looks around the dining room while they wait for the food to be served. It resembles a grand hall more than anything else, with a massive glass chandelier hanging overhead and several huge windows lining the walls, and he figures the long table they’re sitting at could easily seat over thirty guests.

Presently, the head chef and sous chefs and other kitchen assistants march out in a line. The assistants all carry a silver cloche server in hand, and they remove the domed covers with a flourish as they set the trays down before Malleus. The pork shoulder has been roasted to a brown perfection, and a thick, crispy layer of fat sits atop each slice of meat. The gravy is dense and richly seasoned, and the sauerkraut is the most beautiful shade of lavender that Ortho has ever seen. A stack of steaming potato dumplings completes the ensemble. The head chef nervously searches the prince’s face for the slightest sign of approval or dissatisfaction, and his shoulders sag in relief when Malleus dismisses the troupe with the wave of a hand. The head chef bows deeply, followed in turn by the sous chefs and other kitchen assistants, and they file back to the kitchen as efficiently as they came.

The entire spectacle delights Ortho, and he kicks his feet in excitement while he waits for Malleus to finish eating. He imagines how the dining room must look like when the castle is hosting a party, when the heavy window curtains are pulled back and the rays pouring in from the evening sun dance across the rows of silver plates and golden goblets and the entire room erupts into light. And he thinks of gaudy princes and princesses discussing the silliest of things in their ridiculous costumes, and tireless knights prowling the castle grounds in search of hidden marauders and ne'er-do-wells, and he thinks of royal balls that last until the first light of dawn pierces the sky when it’s still not quite morning but no longer night, and other such things that tickle a child’s heart.

After lunch, Malleus resumes showing Ortho around the castle. They start with a tour of the Imperial Guard’s training grounds out back, and they stay and watch for a while as the young recruits spar with some of the captains. Ortho almost thinks he should cheer on the recruits, since they might like the encouragement, but he also considers taking the side of the captains, since they are so spectacular with their flashy jabs and stunning parries. The captains ultimately prove victorious, and as they turn to greet the prince, the sight of the small, fiery-haired boy clapping enthusiastically next to him perplexes them more than anything else they’ve seen the past few months.

Then Malleus takes Ortho to the highest of the watchtowers, where they can see the church’s spires jutting up not too far in the distance. And then he takes him to the castle archives and the library and Malleus’s private study. Ortho is especially fascinated by the library, and they spend hours going through ancient spell books and history books and collections of Briar Valley fiction and poetry. So many of these texts have never made it outside the small nation, and Ortho uncovers books about species of fae he’s never even heard of, and books written in languages he’s never even seen. He drinks it all in with sparkling eyes and toothy smiles. In his eagerness, he accidentally tips over a heavy bookshelf while attempting to extract one of its paper treasures, and Malleus laughs so hard that his eyes water when the boy ends up buried under a mountain of leatherbound tomes.

The heavy wooden doors of the library close behind them with a loud bang as they leave. They only make it a few steps before Ortho reaches out and tugs on Malleus’s arm.

“May we go see your rose garden now?”

Malleus blinks. “My… what?”

“Your rose garden! All the travel guides I downloaded mentioned it. They say it’s one of the greatest wonders of the valley, and that you can see it all the way from the forests that border the castle town.”

Ortho notices the frown forming on Malleus’s face and asks, “Don’t tell me something happened to it?”

Malleus sighs. “Indeed. Sadly, the whole garden was destroyed when we had that bad snowstorm not too long ago.”

“Bad snowstorm…” Ortho closes his eyes for a moment as he thinks. “Wait, I remember that! You mean that monster blizzard that struck Briar Valley over a hundred years ago? People were calling it the storm of the century!”

With a solemn nod, Malleus replies, “I do believe that was the one. …Has it really been a hundred years already? I suppose I just haven’t gotten around to fixing it up yet.”

In truth, he’d considered rebuilding his garden more than once, but he never could bring himself to do it. All the seed packets his grandmother’s been giving him for his birthday the past century have yet to be opened, and they lie buried deep within one of the chests in his room.

A week after that awful blizzard tore through their small nation, he and his grandmother gathered together around the dining table for the first time that winter. They both shivered as they ate, and at one point she looked out the window and murmured something about his “poor roses, the dear things”. Malleus was shocked. He hadn’t even remembered to go check if his flowers had made it through the storm. He’d stopped tending to them sometime after Sebek’s death. It was a gradual thing. He’d water them less often - once a week instead of twice, and then once a month, and then not at all. And then he forgot to tell the servants to purchase more fertilizer when his supplies were getting low. And then he didn’t bother deadheading the bushes in the fall. And then he just stopped going to the garden altogether.

There are times when he’ll wonder, where had that gentleness that Lilia had once spoken of, that love in his heart gone? Had that vengeful snowstorm ripped it from his chest and scattered it to the winds together with his roses? Or had it withered and died and returned to the earth alongside Silver and Sebek’s worn and ashen bodies? Or had it been stolen from his heart long ago, had Lilia taken it with him as he climbed those great mountains, up higher and higher, beyond the radiant clouds and into a world he wasn’t yet ready to journey to?

And there are other times where he’ll go look at the skeletal remains of his garden and he’ll wonder if those rumors about him being detached and apathetic and cold were true. He knew many in Briar Valley believed so. He knew they’d hesitate to even speak of him, as though his name were an ill omen. And he did not blame them. His love was never anything flashy or obvious, was never as bright and as brilliant as the shy half-smiles that Silver would reserve for his father.

No, Malleus’s love was soft and quiet, the glass of his heart opaque, not clear. It was often timid, often awkward, but his love was always there. Even now, even if he could no longer detect its gentle thrum coursing through his veins, his was still the love of that lonely little boy who’d hold his ear against the warm mass of his rose bushes and listen as the flowers revealed to him their perfect wisdom.

And the people he cherished in his heart of hearts were his roses, too. All of them – Lilia, Silver, and Sebek, his parents and his grandmother, and his dear friends from school. To try and rebuild his garden - to press those expectant seeds into the wet earth and wait for the tiny buds to emerge into the light of a January day, to look with bated breath for the sepals to fold open and reveal the sacred pink gems held tightly within their green grasps, to awaken to the sound of the cardinals heralding Spring’s arrival and race to the garden while the sky is still yawning off the night’s indigo embrace and to rejoice at last at the first newborn blooms - it felt blasphemous, like summoning the dead back to life. And his heart was simply too dark and too heavy still for such a thing.

Malleus watches silently as the light of excitement rapidly fades from Ortho’s eyes, and he snuffs out the last dim sparks with a shake of his head.

Ortho sighs. “Well, it’s too bad I couldn’t see your garden, Malleus Draconia. It always looked so beautiful in those pictures I saw. But I’m glad at least the castle and the town and everything made it through the storm okay.”

They resume walking, and Ortho decides privately not to mention the garden again.

Later, after the lilac night had blanketed the valley once more and a calm hush had fallen over the castle, Malleus stalks through the dark halls trying to shake off his restlessness. He passes by Ortho’s room and can hear him murmuring through the closed door. It sounds like he’s talking to someone, but Malleus can’t imagine whom. He hovers at the door for a moment, and then he continues on, not wanting to disturb the boy.

IV.

The next morning, Ortho and Malleus are to have breakfast with the Queen. Ortho wakes up early so he can hook up his oral intake unit in time, and he opens the windows before setting to work. The sun has just barely risen, and the sky is a pleasant gradient of pinks and oranges and yellows and blues. The chilly air is abuzz with thrushes and chiffchaffs singing their daily praises, and the loud cries of haughty wrens undercut the performance. March was in full swing in the valley, and before long the chorus would be joined by the excited twitter of the goldfinches and the sugar sweet call of the willow warblers as spring rolled on.

Just as Ortho finishes equipping his unit, Malleus knocks on his door and softly asks, “Little Shroud, are you ready?”

Ortho answers, “Yes!” and he goes to join Malleus in the hallway. They walk to the dining room together in comfortable silence. Ortho stayed up late last night, gripped with an innocent mixture of nervousness and excitement, but he’s still bright-eyed and brimming with energy. He knows very well that few outsiders are lucky enough to get invited to Briar Valley’s royal castle, and that even fewer still get to receive an audience with the Queen.

Two servants standing before the dining room pull the heavy doors open for them, and they go to where the Queen is waiting for them at the head of the table. She rises from her seat as they approach.

Ortho bows deeply, just as he’d practiced the night before, and says, “It’s an honor to meet you, your Majesty. Thank you so much for permitting me to come here.”

The Queen smiles. “And I thank you for accepting my dear grandson’s invitation. I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay.”

Ortho confirms that he has, and then he looks up and studies her face. The Draconia family’s resemblance is plain to see. She and Malleus have the same bright green eyes, long, black hair, and those sharp fangs that peek out when they smile. Only the thin crow’s feet around her eyes and the slight gauntness of her high cheek bones betray the difference in their ages. She’s a good head shorter than Malleus, but her presence is so much more intimidating. Malleus’s great aura feels like an April shower in comparison to the tempest of energy emanating from her body, and it takes every ounce of Ortho’s willpower not to crumple to the floor when she goes to shake his small hand.

The Queen bids them to sit, and they all take their seats, with her at the head of the table and Ortho and Malleus flanking her on either side. Bowls filled with wax-white sausages floating in steaming water sit before them. A gorgeous, herbal scent - a dazzling mixture of cardamom, mace, parsley, lemon, and other more deeply buried smells - wafts from the bowls. Their plates are decorated with large dollops of dark brown mustard, along with a number of soft, golden pretzels. A crimson-colored juice of some sort swims placidly in their goblets.

Malleus takes his fork and deposits some of the sausages onto his plate. “They’re filled with very finely ground veal and bacon - made from pork loin, rather than pork belly. Poached just long enough for the meat to turn this greyish-white color. They’re one of Briar Valley’s specialties,” he explains.

He waits for Ortho to fill up his own plate, and then continues, “The skin is edible, but we typically don’t eat it. Just take your fork and knife and cut the sausage open lengthwise, and then peel back the skin and eat the meat. And do be sure to try the mustard.”

The explanation finished, Malleus and the Queen take their cutlery in hand and begin to eat. Ortho watches how they expertly incise the sausage casings and extract the white meat as though they were performing surgery. He picks up his own fork and knife and tries to copy their nimble movements as he slices open the fibrous skin. He is pleased to find the meat tastes just as delicious as it smells, and his mouth pulls up into a smile from the rich blend of spices.

Ortho next dips a piece of sausage in the grainy mustard and gingerly takes a bite. He gasps at how sweet it is - he’d been expecting something spicy. It’s nearly too sweet, but only just nearly, and in a strange way he can’t explain, the sugary flavor perfectly complements the savory meat. He eagerly dips another piece of sausage in the mustard and brings it to his mouth, and then another, and another.

The Queen laughs at the boy’s exuberance. “Please take your time, my dear. There’s plenty more where that came from, and if you’d like another serving, just let one of the waitstaff know.”

Ortho begins to reply, but quickly remembers his mouth is full of food, and he shoots his hand over his mouth in embarrassment as he nods. He takes a sip of the juice and considers the flavor for a moment – it’s a pure, bright blend of various kinds of wild berries and other fruit, and the cool liquid somehow invigorates his appetite even more.

As Ortho sets to work on the pretzels, the Queen finally begins her questioning.

“Malleus tells me you went to school together at Night Raven College. I’d been envisioning someone a tad older when he told me that, so I was quite surprised to see just how young you are. I take it your species must age slowly, like ours does?”

Ortho chews contemplatively on his pretzel. “It’s not that I age slowly, it’s just that my appearance doesn’t really change as time goes on. I guess you could say?”

“Oh, really? My, how very interesting.” She takes a sip from her goblet, and her pointed tongue darts out to capture the stray drops trying to escape down her lips. “He also told me you hale from the Isle of Grief, from the Shroud clan. Is your family doing well these days? I haven’t heard from Zephyr in quite a while.”

“Ah,” Ortho says, but then closes his mouth. He’s not sure if it would be impolite to tell the Queen that Zephyr Shroud had passed away four decades ago, and that someone new is leading the family now. He pushes around the last piece of sausage on his plate as he searches for the safest answer. “The Shroud family is doing well. We…. recently got a new clan head, and she sends her greetings.”

The Queen continues, “I see. Please do send her my thanks and well wishes in return. And I hate to pry….” (Ortho privately thinks she does not) “…but are you involved at all with Styx’s operations, by any chance?

“They make my equipment for me, and I help run security at their headquarters, but I’m not involved in their research, no.”

“I see, I see. Good, yes, that’s good.” She nods, but Ortho can’t tell if the gesture is directed at him or herself. She pushes her empty plate away and folds her hands on her lap. Ortho sees a glimmer of hope, and he thinks this strange and awkward conversation might soon come to an end. But all his hopes are dashed when the Queen turns and asks one of the servants for two more bowls of sausage and another plate of pretzels. “Now, what do you mean by “equipment” exactly? And I noticed you hardly seem to have any traces of magic about you. How were you able to attend Night Raven College, may I ask? And is your hair actually on fire? I’ve always wanted to ask your family’s clan leaders, but it slips my mind whenever I see them, and I don’t remember until they’ve already passed. It’s as though each time I blink, you’ve got someone new in charge!” She finishes with a curt laugh, and her bright green eyes bore into Ortho expectantly.

Ortho glances across the table and gives Malleus a plaintive look, but he is seemingly far too engrossed in his pretzels to offer any help.

After breakfast, the Queen excuses herself to go attend to some royal matter or other, and Ortho and Malleus quickly retreat to the library. They wander up and down the rows of shelves for a while, only half paying attention to the books they pull out and flip through. When they happen to meander towards the same shelf and meet in the middle of the aisle, at last they talk, having recuperated enough for conversation.

Ortho starts first, and he exhales like a pierced tire. “That was…. Intense.”

Malleus sighs, as well. “Yes, my grandmother can be quite… severe in her inquisitiveness. I do apologize if she made you uncomfortable at all.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I remember my mom used to drill me and my big brother like that whenever we came home for the holidays, so it was kind of fun, in a way.” Ortho smiles to himself reservedly, as though recalling some precious secret.

“Anyways,” he continues, “I wish my big brother could’ve been here. I’m sure he would’ve loved to meet the Queen.”

Malleus raises an eyebrow. “You really think so? I always had the impression he wasn’t a very sociable fellow.”

Ortho laughs. “You’re right, he wasn’t. But her Majesty resembles a character from an anime he really liked, and I bet he would’ve gotten a kick out of meeting her.”

Malleus isn’t sure whether his grandmother has just been gravely insulted or highly praised, and so he resigns to simply hum in agreement. He tries to imagine how a meeting between the two would even look, but the image refuses to form, his brain balking at him like a stubborn horse. He gropes through a haze of hundreds and hundreds of years of memories and tries to conjure the elder Shroud’s face in his mind, but all he sees is a blur of white skin and blue hair and sharp teeth.

Finally, he looks over to Ortho and slowly admits, “You know, I can’t quite… seem to recall how he looked…”

Ortho flashes him a reassuring smile in return. “That’s okay, I will assist you.”

Some part of Ortho’s body emits a beep, and then his chest plates slide back to reveal a black lens at their center. Before Malleus can ask what he’s doing, the lens turns from black to bright white, and now Idia Shroud himself is standing before them. He’s dressed in the navy-blue coat with the white triangles down the sleeves that he’d always wear at Night Raven College, and his long, fiery hair undulates like waves around him.

For a moment, Malleus is stunned. And then his stupefaction quickly melts into hot anger. Necromancy is strictly forbidden amongst his people, and by no means will he permit this black magic in his own home.

“Wretched spirit!” he snarls. Dark emerald green energy swirls around him, and he raises a glowing hand towards Idia. The books piled around them fly open and the bookshelves begin to shake as a whirlwind of paper dances around the room.

Ortho runs between Malleus and his brother and waves his hands frantically as he shouts, “No, no, no wait! It’s just a hologram, Malleus Draconia! It’s not a ghost, it’s okay!”

Malleus’s slit pupils dart between the two brothers. He tries to focus on Idia for as long as his rage allows, and at last he notices the miniscule dust particles passing through the beams of light that make up the specter’s body. Malleus lowers his hand and dispels his built-up magic with a shake of his arm, and Ortho sighs in relief as he watches the green sparks dissipate into the air. The airborne books crash to the floor a moment later.

Malleus says quietly, more so to himself than to Ortho, “My apologies, I thought you’d…” He doesn’t trust himself to finish the sentence. He knows just speaking the words would stoke his wrath again.

Ortho quickly scans Malleus’s vitals and blot accumulation levels, and he can feel the tension seep from his own body once he confirms the storm of danger has passed. He looks over and sees Malleus staring at the floor, working his jaw in contemplation. Ortho waits for him to speak again.

Finally, Malleus plucks one of the thoughts swirling around in his mind, and he asks, “Can you… Can you project the other students, as well?”

Ortho nods, and the lens in his chest whirs for a moment before the room suddenly fills with a crowd of figures. Malleus scans the familiar faces. There’s Deuce Spade and Ace Trappola and the Child of Man together by one of the windows. There’s Leona Kingscholar, frozen in the middle of a yawn, surrounded by his pack members. And there’s Vil Schoenheit, a compact mirror in one hand, his other paused midair as he fusses with some miniscule imperfection in his mascara that even Malleus’s fae eyesight couldn’t ever hope to uncover. And then he sees them. They’re standing together in the corner of the room.

Malleus takes a step forward, and then stops.

“Do they… Can you make them move?”

“Yes, by taking the footage I recorded while at school and running it through one of my AI programs, I can configure the holograms to perform pretty much any action you can imagine. I can also simulate their voices, if you’d like.”

Malleus opens his mouth as if to speak, and then he closes it again. He shakes his head and says, “Ah, no. No, that’s fine. I’m not even sure why I asked, please don’t mind me.” His gaze lingers on the three of them while he talks. He continues staring at that spot long after Ortho shuts his lens off.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Malleus has a fitting to attend to, and then yet another rehearsal for the coronation. The servants hurry and fuss around him like honeybees on a wildflower as they double-check and then triple-check their measurements. He slowly disappears underneath the long bands of white measuring tape, and Ortho tries his best to stifle his laughter while he watches, looking away guiltily whenever a surreptitious giggle escapes his lips. But Malleus doesn’t pay him any bother; his mind is too focused on other things.

The holograms have been haunting him all morning. He sees them when he looks into the mirror, he feels their presence when he’s alone. They’re always at the corner of his eye, always just out of arm’s reach. As though taunting him. He wonders if they plague him so because of how real they looked. He had seen movies projected onto screens before, and he still remembers the ghastly window projections Lilia would dig out every Halloween. But that footage was always so grainy, so dull and lifeless. The holograms that Ortho had conjured earlier were deceptively vibrant, they had breathed. They were alive. If Malleus had reached out and touched them, he scarcely doubts he’d have felt warm flesh under his hands.

The murmurs of the servants around him pull him from his thoughts, and he is gradually befreed from the prison of safety pins and sewing needles and measuring tape and color swatches. He turns slowly as he hears someone approaching, half dreading it might be another radiant phantom coming to vex him.

“Malleus Draconia, I’ve been detecting a delay in your response speed since this morning, as well as periods of increased heart rate. Is something on your mind?”

Malleus’s shoulders sag in relief. With a sigh, he answers, “Ah, it’s just you, Little Shroud. No, I’m fine. I’ve just been preoccupied with the preparations is all.”

Ortho smiles with all the innocence of a lamb. His barracuda teeth glint portentously. “…Did anyone ever tell you I can detect lies?”

“I am not-“

A chambermaid interrupts to ask if Malleus is ready to start the rehearsal, and he gratefully follows her to the throne room. He hears Ortho walking behind him. He tries to ignore the second set of footsteps he knows isn’t really there.

The cool reprieve of night is accompanied by a sudden rainstorm, and Ortho excuses himself to his room at the first crack of thunder. The blinding marks left behind by the lightning raking its great claws across the sky still terrify him after all these years, and he closes the windows and draws the curtains shut, not wanting to look at those awful flashes of light.

Later, Malleus passes by his room during his usual nighttime stroll, and he again hears Ortho’s excited voice floating through the wooden door. He stands there listening for a few minutes, and then finally knocks on the door. He asks loudly, over the pouring rain, if he might come in, and Ortho shouts back, “Of course!”

When Malleus opens the door, he sees Ortho reclining on his bed, and Idia Shroud sitting in a chair nearby. Malleus groans and closes his eyes, shaking his head. But Idia is still there when he opens his eyes, and he takes a hesitant step back.

“What’s wrong, Malleus Draconia?” Ortho asks wide-eyed, looking between his brother and Malleus. “Is my hologram bothering you again? Here, I’ll turn it off.” The apparition disappears without a sound, and Malleus takes a shuddering breath.

“My apologies, I just wasn’t sure if he was really…” Malleus shakes his head again. “No, it’s fine. What were you doing just now? I thought I heard you talking with someone.”

Ortho sits up and hangs his legs over the bed. “Oh, I was just talking with my big brother.” He watches as Malleus’s usually stern face scrunches up in confusion, and stifles back a laugh.

In his stupefaction, Malleus blurts, “And what were you talking to him about?”

“All sorts of stuff! I was telling him about our breakfast with the queen, and all the cool books we found in the library. Oh! And I’ve been showing him all the pictures and videos I’ve been taking so far.”

Malleus thinks for a moment. “Ah, so when I heard you speaking with someone in your room the other night…”

Ortho nods. “I was just talking to my big brother, yeah.”

“I see,” Malleus breathes out. And then, quietly, he murmurs, “I see… That’s quite surprising.”

“What do you mean?” Ortho asks.

“I suppose I hadn’t expected a robot to be able to be so sentimental, missing your brother and talking to his photo like that.”

“I mean, of course I miss him! But there’s nothing in my programming that makes me feel this way. It comes from my heart, the same as you.”

Malleus blanches. “You have… a heart? The literal organ, you mean?”

“Erm, no.” Ortho winces. “You see I’ve got this magical circuitry onboard and-”

“And there it is again,” Malleus sighs.

“What?”

Malleus crosses his arms. “To me, you have always been a very confusing amalgamation of machinery and human. And I fear I shan’t ever understand exactly what you are.”

During his time at Night Raven College, Malleus had only ever heard fragmentary rumors about the Shroud brothers. The other students would whisper that something terrible had befallen their family in the past, and that Idia had created the little robot in his grief. But neither of the brothers had ever offered to divulge their past to Malleus, and he never asked them to. He kept many things close to his heart, and he respected others who wished to do the same.

“Well,” Ortho says as he folds his hands in his lap. He stares at them for a moment, and after looking back up at Malleus, he continues, “I can try and explain it to you, if you’d like.”

“Only if you don’t mind, I don’t wish to pry.”

Ortho shuffles further down the bed and pats the empty space next to him, and Malleus sits down.

Ortho takes a deep breath, and then begins, “Well, this story starts a really long time ago. There were these two brothers named Idia Shroud and Ortho Shroud, and they always dreamed of going on adventures together…”

Malleus leans over, trying to grasp onto the shaky whispers that spill from his mouth like a confession. He had always thought of Ortho’s voice as bright and animated, like the titter of a goldfinch on a summer morning. But now, for the first time, as he listens to the boy talk, he finds his voice is very small. It’s as though his words have been crushed and shattered, the fine bits and pieces sent adrift like dust in the wind. He notices for the first time, too, just how small Ortho is, he notices the smallness of his hands. Is this not but a child’s body shivering hesitantly beside his? Is this not but a child’s tiny hand gripping nervously onto his own? For him to be carrying such an endless ocean of sorrow inside of him, how has he not drowned from its tremendous weight already? How has the earth not opened up and swallowed him whole, trapping him inside the same deep, dark pit that Malleus has been staring up from for centuries now?

The story comes together slowly, dripping like water, steadily taking shape like some great crystalline structure in a cavern long forgotten by time. And at long last, the pure light of revelation dawns before Malleus’s eyes. With a gasp, he tells the boy he understands now. Yes, that secret truth that has stood unnoticed before him for half a millennium, that has always slipped by him unheard, like a distant cry swallowed by the winds - now he sees it, now he hears it. Now he finally understands.

Exhausted, Ortho closes his eyes and sinks into the bed.

Malleus reaches out and cups Ortho’s cheek in his hand. A dim warmth emanates from the synthetic skin. As he sits there in the cold darkness, he wonders and wonders just what haunts the boy in his electric dreams.

The rainstorm fades away into the black night as quickly as it had appeared. The next morning, the sun rises sluggishly, as though weighed down by the lingering dampness that hangs heavy in the air. The dawn chorus, as well, lacks its usual fervor, and only the intermittent cries of a distant blackbird accompany the horizon’s slow transition from black to red to blue.

If Ortho had been at all bothered by their conversation last night, he does not show it. He greets Malleus cheerfully when they sit down for breakfast, and they discuss only the drab weather and what plans they have for the day. When Ortho asks if he might accompany Malleus on his morning rounds, he readily agrees.

First on Malleus’s agenda is a violin recital. Sometimes he will perform for his grandmother, and he used to enjoy showing off a piece or two for Lilia, but as of late he’s been playing for only himself. The usual forlornness of the music room is somewhat stifled now that he has Ortho with him, and he searches for a chair the boy can use. Ortho watches him, shifting speculatively from one foot to another.

After Malleus locates a second chair and goes to take his seat before the music stand, Ortho timidly asks, “Remember when we were talking yesterday after your fitting, and that maid came and interrupted us?”

“…Yes?” Malleus replies, pausing as he picks up his violin case.

“Well, I still want to know if you’re doing okay. I keep detecting irregularities in your adrenaline and cortisol levels.”

“I assure you, I’m quite fine.” Malleus puts on his best smile as he unlocks the case and takes out his instrument. The smooth blend of maple and spruce feels reassuring in his hands, and he sets his jaw as he begins his tuning. “Now hush for a moment, please. I need to focus.” Ortho acquiesces, and he dutifully goes to sit in the corner of the room. The violin’s mournful voice somehow dissolves the tension that had been sitting uncomfortably in Ortho’s body since that morning, and as Malleus decisively strikes his bow across the pearl white strings for the final, piercing note, a firm resolve solidifies in its place.

Next is a morning meeting with the royal council, and Ortho resumes his endeavors while they walk to the council chamber. He breaks into a trot to keep up with Malleus’s long strides.

“Talking things out can help you feel better, you know!” Ortho implores.

“And that would be lovely,” Malleus huffs through gritted teeth, “- if only I needed to feel better!”

The servants passing by wonder to themselves if the boy is purely brazen, or if he’s just ignorant. They watch as the black column of their prince stalks faster and faster down the hallway, unable to shake off the white and blue speck following him.

The council meeting provides a short reprieve from Ortho’s questioning, and Malleus listens eagerly as the advisors, merchants, secretaries, and other council members take turns giving their rambling reports. The meetings were one of Malleus’s greatest delights; he was always eager to hear how things were going outside the castle, and the merchants would often bring back fascinating stories of what they’d seen during their travels. Most of the members pay no heed to the small boy sitting quietly next to the prince, but Ortho catches some of them glancing his way. Their blue and green and yellow eyes remind him of cat’s eyes marbles, and he admires how they catch the light. He ducks his head whenever they notice him staring.

Malleus’s excitement quickly disperses together with the conclusion of the meeting, and Ortho, in turn, swells up again with curiosity. The other council members file out of the room first, some of them still quibbling and grumbling over the issues they’d been discussing, and Malleus and Ortho bring up the rear. Ortho tugs on Malleus’s sleeve after they pour into the hallway.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine!”

For the rest of the morning, Ortho clings to him like a shadow, his perturbations hanging over Malleus’s head like circling buzzards. No matter how many times Malleus shoos him away, no matter how fiercely he glares, no matter how much venom he tries to inject into his refutations, the boy simply flutters back to his side moments later, as unbothered as a dandelion on the wind. Even teleporting to another part of the castle proves fruitless – Ortho’s location systems keep tracking him down within a matter of minutes.

Finally, around noon, Ortho corners him in Malleus’s study. He asks once more, “Are you sure there isn’t anything bothering you?”

Malleus sets down the book he’d been hiding behind and sighs. “You really aren’t going to let up until I talk to you, I suppose?”

“Nope!” Ortho grins.

“You’re truly vexing, you know that?” Malleus replies, a tired smile pulling at his lips. He gestures to a nearby chair, and Ortho sits down.

“Very well then. If you must know, it’s because of those…” He waves a hand in the air as he searches for the word. “Those holograms you showed me yesterday. I can’t stop thinking about them, for whatever reason. I don’t know if it’s just because I haven’t seen photos of them for so long or…”

“Them?”

It takes Malleus a moment to coax the names out of his mouth. “…Lilia, Silver, and Sebek.”

Ortho nods his head. “Oh, yeah. I remember you were really close to them.”

“Yes, they were like family to me…” Malleus murmurs, trailing off in thought. He licks his lips and asks, “…Does it not… Does it not make you sad, seeing your brother’s picture? And talking to him as you do?”

Ortho shakes his head. “It’s perfectly normal to feel uncomfortable when looking at pictures of your deceased loved ones. I just happen to be one of those people who doesn’t. And when I talk to my big brother, it helps me feel close to him. Everyone processes grief in different ways, after all.”

“Grief?” Malleus scoffs. “It’s been ages since they passed. Why would I still be grieving? It’s not like I hole myself in my room all the time, sulking about.”

“That’s not…” Ortho frowns. “Grief isn’t always loud and in your face. Sometimes… Sometimes it can be really quiet.”

“Mm,” Malleus sighs. He was familiar with that sort of quiet grief, the kind that would strike him faster than a cottonmouth, usually on still mornings or hushed nights, when his loneliness was at its most palpable. It always felt like an ambush, the way it would suddenly materialize in his heart like a rainstorm on a clear day. It was not like the burning, bone deep sorrow that had gripped his body after Lilia left, and neither was it suffocating, like how he’d felt at Silver and Sebek’s funerals. But it hurt him just the same.

“And how exactly does talking with his pict- his hologram make you feel better?” Malleus asks, genuinely curious.

“So my big brother and I had always wanted to travel the world together- Well, more like I wanted to get him out of his room, for once.” Ortho laughs, and Malleus smirks.

“But anyways, we never ended up being able to travel much since he was stuck dealing with Styx stuff most of the time. That’s why I like to talk to him and tell him about the places I go to, and the things I see. I know it doesn’t make up for the memories we never got to make together, but that hologram kind of helps me process all the stuff I regret not being able to do with him.”

“I see.”

Ortho takes his lower lip into his mouth and nibbles it pensively. “Is there anything you regret not being able to do with Lilia Vanrouge and the others?”

Malleus nods gravely. “Of course, for I never got to… Lilia was already gone by the time Silver and I arrived at his farewell party, and that has always weighed heavily on my mind. I know there’s nothing I can do about that now, but… I still would’ve liked to have at least spent one last night together with everyone.”

Malleus opens his mouth to continue speaking, and then closes it again. Ortho waits patiently, watching as Malleus furrows his brows in thought.

Finally, Malleus continues, “…I wished desperately, perhaps more so than anyone else at Night Raven College, to have the kinds of school experiences I’d always read about. I wished to have study sessions with my classmates, to go visit my friends and stay up late talking with them, to go to parties and other social gatherings… And yet, when I finally received the party invitation I’d always longed for, I didn’t even go. I still marvel at my foolishness to this day.” He finishes with a shake of his head.

Ortho crosses his arms and closes his eyes. “Hmm… I might be able to assist you with that. Could we reserve the castle’s ballroom tonight?”

Malleus blinks. “That shouldn’t be a problem… But why?”

“You’ll see!”

Later that night, after Ortho explains his plan, he instructs Malleus to go put on his old house warden uniform. It’s been ages since he last wore it, and the fabric feels alien to him. He tugs at his collar and fiddles with his gloves and fingers the lining of his coat, as restless as a snake eager to shed its skin. Even standing before the mirror, it feels like he’s looking at someone else, like the pale, awkward face staring back at him belongs to some unfortunate stranger. He clicks his tongue and turns to make his way to the ballroom. Ortho greets him when he passes through the towering doors.

“Now, it consumes a lot of battery power for me to run so much footage through this specific AI program all at once. I’ll probably be able to display the holograms for about two hours before I’ll need to stop. Okay?”

“Yes, that’s alright. I don’t imagine this will go on for very long, anyways.”

Ortho glides up to the gallery on the second floor, and he turns to face the dance floor. The plates in his chest once again unfurl to reveal the lens of his built-in projector, and in the blink of an eye, the ballroom is filled with the glimmering holograms of their old Night Raven College classmates.

“Is everything okay? May I start the music?” Ortho shouts from the gallery.

Malleus stills his nerves with a deep breath. “Go ahead!” he calls out, and the ballroom’s speakers start thrumming a moment later. At once, all the holograms turn and look up at him expectantly. Even from where he’s standing atop the stairs, he can easily pick out Silver, Sebek, and Lilia’s white faces peering at him from the crowd. Silver steps forward and offers his hand. Malleus rushes down the stairs and takes it.

The first few steps are awkward and offbeat. Again and again, Malleus moves his hands or feet too close to the hologram’s body, and his limbs pierce through the projected light like a clumsy blade. He winces, both at his inability to perform a simple waltz, and at the sight of his fingers halfway embedded in Silver’s waist. Eventually, Malleus figures out that if he counts the steps, it’s easier for him to move while hovering his hands just above Silver’s body. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three. Their steps finally line up with the beat, and they glide across the dance floor with confidence and surety.

For the first time that night, Malleus smiles, and Silver smiles back. How he ached to pluck that smile off the boy’s face and safekeep it in his pocket forever! Alas, all he can do is drop one arm and raise the other, signaling Silver to turn. He watches silently as Silver twirls beneath him, and their hands rejoin at the next step. After a few minutes, the music swells – it’s time for the swap.

Silver swings away and takes his father’s outstretched hand, while Sebek separates from Epel to come join Malleus. Malleus almost wants to turn around, to just stop right there and simply watch Silver and Lilia dance, but Sebek’s brilliant smile captivates him like nothing else. They move quickly, with Malleus leading the way, and Sebek forceful and heavy in his movements. Where Silver was reserved, Sebek is thunderous, and Malleus laughs as they whirl and race across the dance floor. When the music finally swells again, Sebek hands off Malleus to Lilia with a bow.

Malleus again fumbles for a few moments, having to adjust to Lilia’s much shorter height. He curses as his one hand shoots right through Lilia’s face and the other cuts through his shoulder. After a couple of hesitant steps, he at last finds his rhythm once more, and they move leisurely to the steady thrum of the music.

Like a pair of jubilant cranes declaring their great love, like the push and pull of the moon and the ocean’s tides, they take turns leading and following one another. The throng of students parts before them, clearing a path for the two to drift down. As the song races on, more and more couples stop to watch them, and soon it’s just Malleus and Lilia floating across the dance floor. Malleus can feel their eyes boring into him, but he doesn’t care. He has been bewitched. He grows more and more drunk on every turn, every dip, every carefully placed step and dizzying revolution. The floor disappears underneath him; the ballroom fades away. There is only him and Lilia and the music. Rapture’s final trumpet could’ve sounded in that moment and he wouldn’t have noticed.

As the last, winsome notes of the song gradually fade away, Lilia reaches up and ruffles Malleus’s head, and Malleus closes his eyes. For nearly five hundred long years he has lived trapped underneath the immovable weight of his sorrow. He has beaten his fists against it and kicked it and raked his claws down its sides, he has wailed and screamed and roared until his voice grew hoarse, he has cursed Heaven and Hell and begged for salvation from both, but he was never able to get it to even budge. The past few days, he finally felt it starting to shift. And just now, when that small hand he so desperately yearned to feel the touch of had reached out to him, it nearly disintegrated on the spot.

Finally, the song ends, the air stills, the spell is broken. Malleus opens his eyes, and the world reforms before him. He raises his hand and rubs his head where Lilia had touched him. He had almost felt it, almost felt those familiar, thin fingers running through his hair. Maybe if they just start the song over and go through the dance again, he’ll feel it next time.

“Little Shroud!” Malleus cries. “Please! Do it once more!”

“Okay!” Ortho yells from above, and the song begins again. The holograms disappear for a moment, and then reappear in their starting positions a second later. Malleus retreats to the top of the staircase. Then he turns around and takes Silver’s hand.

This time, there is no awkwardness, no clumsy missteps or fumbling movements. Malleus and Silver spin with all the grace of a courting swan, he and Sebek whirl as determined as a maelstrom. When Sebek releases him into Lilia’s arms, he handles the transition with ease, his hands finding their correct positions all on their own.

Yes, this time, when Lilia goes to pat his head, there is the slightest hint of the cool fabric of Lilia’s gloves ghosting over his skin. And as Lilia pulls his hand away, a scent not unlike one Malleus has smelled a thousand times before washes over him – it’s sharp like iron, and musky and sweet like jessamine. He’d always thought it fitting that Lilia smelled that way. The canary yellow bells that adorn jessamine vines were often mistaken for honeysuckle, and many a thirsty child had fallen paralyzed to the forest floor after drinking its sugary nectar. Its sweet smell was both a warning and a temptation, and Malleus found it purely intoxicating. He breathes in the air greedily.

Oh, if they could just try again! Surely, he’ll feel that hand’s tender caress next time!

“Little Shroud!”

Ortho restarts the music and resets the holograms again. And again and again, for hours on end. As the night marches on and the firefly lights of the stars begin to dot the sky, Ortho ignores the high-pitched beeping of his low battery alert.

It takes a few minutes for Malleus to realize the holograms have vanished. He’d been keeping his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he twirled Silver around the dance floor. When he finally opens his eyes, ready to take Sebek’s hand next, he sees only the dark, empty ballroom.

“Little Shroud!” he calls out, and then louder, when he doesn’t get a response, “Ortho!”

He teleports up to the gallery and finds the boy sprawled out on the floor, his eyes closed. He goes to check for a pulse, chiding himself once he realizes his simpleminded error. He flips Ortho onto his stomach and searches for the battery indicator light the boy had mentioned before, and he sees it blinking an angry red.

Malleus lets out the breath he’d been holding with a hiss, and he gathers Ortho into his arms. He staggers as he rises from the ground, the boy’s small frame proving much heavier than it belies.

He takes Ortho back to the guest room and deposits him on the bed. He fumbles as he hooks up the charging cable to the port on the boy’s back. Nothing happens at first, and Malleus worries that he’s done something wrong, but then a voice sounds out, “Time Until Full Charge: 3 hours and 42 minutes”, and a faint, green light begins to glow near the battery port. Ortho’s eyes open a moment later.

Malleus peers over him as he asks, “Little Shroud, are you alright? Can you hear my voice?”

“Malleus… Draconia…?” Ortho blinks a few times, and then sits up. “…Yes, all my systems are operational. According to my memory dump files, it appears I crashed due to a critically low battery. I’ll be good to go as long as I fully charge my battery tonight.”

“Ah, thank goodness…” Malleus exhales, relieved. “I do apologize, I was so absorbed in my own whims I lost track of time. I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that.”

Ortho looks away. “It’s okay... and I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?” Malleus asks, confused.

“I was trying to give you one last night together with everyone, but I went and ruined the whole thing…”

“You didn’t ruin anything!” Malleus exclaims, and then he clears his throat. Quietly, he continues, “You didn’t ruin anything. You gave me something I wasn’t aware my heart desperately needed. And I thank you sincerely for it.”

“Mm,” Ortho mumbles, only half listening. He blinks rapidly and looks around the room - at the door, at the bookcase, at the bedside table. Everywhere except at Malleus.

Malleus frowns. “Is something the matter?”

“I guess I just… I don’t know.” Ortho lets out a shaky sigh. “When I saw you dancing with those holograms, you looked so happy. And that made me really happy, too. But then I started thinking, you’re my last friend from NRC, right? One day, you’re going to be just another hologram to me, same as everybody else...” He brings his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. It reminds Malleus of how Silver and Sebek would look when they got upset as children, and a feeling he can’t find the name for begins prickling in his chest.

Perhaps encouraged, perhaps despaired, Ortho’s words pour out faster and faster. “I never asked my big brother to make me, but he did. And then he just up and left me behind. Everybody does. And there’s nothing I can do about it…”

His voice shrinks to a whisper. “…I guess I just don’t like that I never got any say in the matter.”

Ortho clears his throat, and then a heavy sob wracks his small body. The tears he’d been fighting so hard to hold back finally burst free and rush down his scrunched-up face. Malleus desperately wants to look away, but the moonlight reflecting off the boy’s tears paralyzes him.

He thinks back on all the times in his life when he had failed to comfort someone. He still remembers the night of Lilia’s departure with perfect clarity, he remembers the pure white of the snowflakes that fell on Silver’s face, how they mixed with the iridescent tears that spilled from his eyes, and how they melted from the warmth of his quiet sorrow. And he remembers the hard line of Sebek’s shoulder trembling under his hand at Silver’s funeral, he remembers how small the huge man had looked, crumpled over, folded in on himself, crushed under the immense weight of his endless grief.

And now he stands before this child who has wrenched back the heavy curtains of his heart and led him into the blinding light of the world for the first time in nearly half a millennium. At times, he viciously fought back against the small hand that guided him, refusing the open pastures before him like some forgotten creature long left to rot within the darkness of its cage. And at times, he was only eager to follow its gentle coaxing, desperate for even the slightest bit of reassurance that he really could escape the pit of his sorrows and the ground wouldn’t swallow him whole again.

Is there truly nothing he can do, nothing he can say to soothe the poor boy’s heart? Must he once again be rendered dumbfounded and dazed by those silent tears?

He decides this time will be different - it must be.

He sits down on the bed next to Ortho and takes some time to gather his words. After a couple seconds, he utters, “I see. Yes, I can certainly understand how you feel.”

“While I cannot say I agree with what your older brother did, I will say this...”

“When Lilia announced he was going to be raising a human child, I thought he had finally, truly lost his mind. I eventually figured out why he must’ve seen no problem with it, since he would far outlive the boy - he’d have his hands full for a couple of decades at most, and then be free to continue living his life as he pleased. I’m sure you can imagine what a shock it was when he ended up passing so much earlier than Silver did.”

“It wasn’t until I got older that I realized I had it all wrong. He must’ve known very well that he was going to die before Silver, and that’s precisely why he decided to take him in. For he knew that he couldn’t… He knew that he wasn’t strong enough to live in a world that had taken his heart away from him.”

“But he must’ve felt that I was strong enough, and that I can do what he could not. I suppose older generations always have such hopes for those who come after them.”

Ortho finally looks at him. He wipes the wet mess from his face and takes a deep breath. “Maybe my big brother felt the same way, that I’m strong enough…”

“Perhaps he did. I certainly think you are, at least.”

“…Thank you.”

Malleus stays with Ortho until his battery finishes charging. Ortho is due to return home the next morning, and they talk about all the things they saw and did together on his much too short visit. And then they talk about everything and nothing, about their memories from their time at school, about all the different people and things they missed, about all their budding hopes for the future. And finally, enveloped in the twilight darkness of that small room, they promise to always keep in touch.

They fall asleep to the sound of the cardinals heralding the dawn.

VI.

Malleus squints as walks with Ortho into the soft light of the courtyard. They stand still for a while, just listening to the gentle hum of the windchimes. The foul weather from the day prior has vanished, and the sun’s golden rays stretch triumphantly overhead. Ortho remarks that it somehow feels like it was both forever ago and only just a couple seconds ago since they last stood there, and Malleus quietly agrees.

He turns to Ortho and places his hand on the boy’s shoulder. It’s time for him to go home.

“And I will see you at the coronation?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“And you will let me know when you’ve made it back safely?”

“Yup, I’ll email you soon as I get back to the island. And then we can schedule a time to play some online chess together!”

Malleus smiles, and Ortho beams up at him in return. “Good. Take care, Little Shroud.”

“You, too, Malleus Draconia.”

As he watches the lights from Ortho’s propulsion system dissolve into the amber sea of the early morning sky, Malleus strokes his thumb across the packet of rose seeds in his pocket.

#malleus draconia #ortho shroud #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland #twst #txt

286 notes · View notes

hlvstia · 2 years

Text

— i’ll always find a way to see you, again.

pair : chishiya x fem!reader

summary : you find yourself in a shit position— which is… almost meeting death.

warnings : mentions of pills & self harm— & one mention of nigari.

spoilers : please do not continue reading if you haven’t finished alice in ( the ) boarderland s2 yet! ( under rewriting cuz tumblr deleted half my stuff… )

line divider by : 🫀 !

it was not only that, but you knew you had to win this game— for a fighting chance at love, and for a chance to have friends that meant a lot to you.

mira kano had only one goal, which was to make you forfeit the game— so you couldn’t find the truth, and never return to your world. and you had to admit, she had the skill to make you feel like you never existed; perhaps it was a perk of her being a physicalist. she knew the way around the human body, aka the mind.

no matter how hard you wanted to focus on croquet, she had questions after questions— that targeted towards you and your brother.

“karube left me…” your eyes watered, looking down to see your hands already fidgeting with themselves.

“and how does that make you feel, [y/n]? how did you feel when your big brother left you? to fend for yourself?” mira always had this comforting voice, which compelled you even more to reply to her nonsense.

it wasn’t like he actually left you… one day, you two were playing a game until he had gone his separate way due to the king of spades massive shoot-out. and so, you never saw him again— but he still wanted to protect you, right?

you kept quiet, feeling your eyes water as she slided the pills towards you, following up with a cup of water. “this’ll make you feel better… why don’t you take this and then answer me?” she kept on persisting on you and arisu to take the pills, but usagi didn’t like the idea of that. she knew what mira was trying to do; make you two forfeit so you could lose the game. “you guys, snap out of it! she’s trying to trick you both into forfeiting! please!” usagi yelled, shaking the two of you.

“no— i… it’s true though. maybe he doesn’t actually care about me.. the pills will make me feel better, right?” your eyes darted towards the pills, your hands reaching for them but an abrupt slapped them away from your touch. “[y/n], you can’t! please— come back to me. look at me and tell me that you’re here… with us, with me!”

usagi grabbed your hands, looking up to you— “[y/n]…” she whispered into a crying sob, looking over at arisu who was currently on the floor. “i know you want to escape, [y/n]… just say you quit and you can be free. you may not even be real…” the queen of hearts surely had a way with her words, to the point where it was truely believable to the human mind.

snapping back to reality, you saw usagi holding a piece of glass, placing it near her wrist. “usagi—” your sentence was cut off by her swift movement cutting her wrist to prove that this was real. “usagi!” you yelled, catching her into your arms as you softly placed her on the ground, your lap as a pillow for her head. “just win this for me and arisu… i want the chance to shop at the mall with you, do our taxes together, and maybe when do mountain climbing…” as each second grew, her voice declined more into a little rasp. this is when you knew you had to win, for them.

“i still want to play, mira! i want to do the last round!” within a heartbeat, you stood up holding the croquet stick. “as you wish,” her lips quivered into a small smile, holding hers straight.

positioning yourself, you aimed your stick towards one of the ball so it could enter through the little hoops, and to your success it did. and as said, the game would go on for about 3 hours— which meant… you made it towards the end. you finally beat the final face game. the queen of hearts.

even so, listening to her goodbye speech made you realize something… life was too short, and it was sure risk taking. in addition to that, there were two choices— to either decline or accept staying in the current world you were in.

as caption obvious, you all said decline. you wanted to go to your world that you could see all your friends, but possibly, not see your current ones that you trusted as of now. it was apart of the choice though, to take that chance.

you rushed down the building, sprinting your way towards chishiya, ignoring nigari ( BOOO, 🍅 ). “hey, you actually did it.” his lips curled into a smirk, his eyes squinting at the bright light. “please shut up and just fucking decline the offer, shuntaro.” you held onto his hand, still looking over at his wound. he let out a little chuckle, tightening the grip onto your hold. “i decline,”

chishiya pulled you closer, letting you lean on his chest with ease. but everything felt weird as the fireworks went off, and it ended off with you dozing off and ending up in a new place. your world, that you all knew.

“[y/n], come!” your friends called you over, waving at this outside cafe area. “coming!” you yelled back, jogging over to see their smiles. “so, did you hear? kai’s university was struck down by a meteor… and thank god he’s still beside us!” one of them spoke, but it seemed like another thing was catching their attention.

“you mean that one…?”

and that’s a wrap! like for part 2 :) cuz’ this definitely took a long time and now i have courage to write for aib! remember to request a specific asks if you have one— for a quick reminder, i do write for marvel, aib, and some anime’s.

bruh i gave up cuz tumblr DELETED HALF MY PARAFRAPHS 😭 this is all y’all get IM SO SORRY

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snakegorl212006 · 9 months

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Unbirthday

It seems I had no choices…Do I even have one? Maybe I should act sick. But it’s rude to not show up. But it’s just a party so..i guess it wouldn't hurt. Besides there’s probably tons of people if it’s some rich kid. I sigh and open my eyes to meet my ceiling. I lazly turned my head towards the TV. I really don’t wanna leave my couch. Perhaps I'm in over my head. It’s just an invitation. I’ll be fine. I checked the time. 7:00pm. I rose up from the couch and walked to my closet and tried to find the nicest clothes I had. After a quick shower, I put on my clothes and began preparing for my outing. Midway checking if I had everything, a knock was heard at my door. I made my way and opened the door to see a familiar face “officer spade?” I questioned. He looked a little different. He had a more casual yet formal suit on and had a spade mark underneath his eye “long time no see but please call me deuce” he smiles “ok deuce, what brings you to my apartment” i asked “I offer to drive our special guest over to roseheart’s manor. I never thought I’d be you” he laughed which made me smile “well are you ready” he asked and i nod. He escorted me to his car and drove us to Heartslabyul into the wood area. Why would a manor be all the way out here? My thoughts were overridden by the sight of the place. It was massive. When we entered the driveway, we were greeted by a pathway which splits in between a rose maze which leads us to the manor’s main door. There waiting for us was a tall man with short green hair and glasses,next to him was Cater who was scrolling through his phone. Cater looked up then smiled warmly at us “Deuce! Been a while.Oh Y/N it’s you I’m surprise you came” Cater said as he waved “I can say the same. Who’s the guy next to you” I asked “oh this is trey I was talking about. He's a close friend with Riddle.” Cater introduces. Trey held his hand out and smiled “Good evening. Thank you for joining us” he said. I shook his head. So far there’s nothing to worry about. What was I even worrying about? “Come riddle is waiting for us in his office” Trey said “whoo lets get this party started” Cater shouted as we entered inside. The manor was pretty and smelled of roses and pastries. Despite the beautiful decor and decorated walls, the manor was relatively void of people. Maybe we came earlier than expected. We reached the office and went inside. There waiting for us was two people.the one in the main throne,i assume it's riddle, and another guy just lounging on the couch. Riddle looked up and smiled “You actually came. Welcome to my manor, we have much to discuss. Have a seat” Riddle said so I did. I sat down on a chair right in front of him. “Do you like what I did with the place” Riddle asked “ya it’s very festive here. Is there anyone else coming” I asked “no.But I don’t mind if it’s just you though” Riddle replied “How about we get this unbirthday party started by playing a game” Riddle suggested as he stands up “You are alice, trying to escape the Queen’s cards for they’re after your head sense the Red Queen demands it” Riddle suggested “my head…” I mumbled as I glanced around; surely they think this is ridiculous right? “Sound fun riddle, I’ve been wanting to do this for some time now” Cater replied “I’ll prepare the pastries. We might get hungary mid way.” Trey adds with a smile. “Splendid! Ace and deuce will be the cards and Y/N will be our dear alice this evening” Riddle concluded “wait I didn’t agree to this” I stated as i stand up “same But it was your fault for living after the party. You broke the rules and were left unpunished. This won't do. So play along with us” Riddle beamed “All you have to do is to live and make it back to your house. Safe and sound. Easy enough.and you get a 5 minute head start” Riddle adds as he pulls out his pocket watch. “May the unbirthday party begin”

#twisted wonderland murder au #twisted wonderland killer au #yandere twisted wonderland #trey clover #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #riddle rosehearts

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george228732 · 8 months

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Fylass Through the Looking Glass - Chapter Fifteen - Dragon’s Elegy

The clouds of Wonderland were darkening, as a newfound sense of discomfort shrouded the group that was going back to the Looking Glass to get to Underland, as if a cold shadow was tagging along - the chills across the land were clearly signaling a bad omen, and maybe it was true, as those same clouds took the shame of bizarre, amorphous creatures, thing that shouldn’t be a problem in and of itself, but there was something about those figures that felt oddly artificial, as if someone was doodling without much care in a piece of paper - it felt foreboding, as everything else; a watching eye that was just so excited to see what was about to happen in the stage, a creature that was old, even older that Wonderland itself, a threat that was looming, always looming, but never got the chance to show up personally… For now at least.

On all the way through to get to the Looking Glass, everyone was eerily quiet, wanting to at least say something to ease the tension, but no words came from anyone’s mouth, even though they just got exposed to a mouthful of information, which it would be good at first glance, but thanks to that, now they have to deal with the fact that there’s a threat much bigger than the Jabberwocky, and even if it sounds redundant, it was the truth.

Nonetheless, they had to take care of both of them sooner or later, and deep down, they knew that this trip back to Underland would be one they would never forget - the last time the ferocious dragon got to Underland, or specifically, the White Kingdom, grief and despair reigned for a long while, bittering the hearts of everyone, and from there, many forgot the friendship both realms once had, and many forgot that the other realm existed, and even though Cosmounse was surely a threat far more dangerous than it, it didn’t take of the fact that they needed to get rid of that dragon in one way or another - sure, its cycle would surely never cease, but at the very least, peace could be found for a while, or well, they hoped so.

…

A row of voices echoed through the path that bestowed upon the group, putting everyone on edge - it surely wasn’t something to be worried about, and yet, they didn’t want to take any risks whatsoever, so everyone drew their weapons, just in case; it didn’t take much to see that the ones walking next to them on the gloomy pathway were ones that they knew about before, being none others than the residents of the Tarot Town, along with their mayor, and a suspiciously familiar gray jay leading the way.

"Oh dear, I am glad I found-... You." The Mayor, Aeon spoke up, but quickly stopped herself from keeping up with the conversation when she noticed people that she never saw before, as far as her mind could go, but also the Spade and Club Suits were there too, and both Fylass and her seem to be intrigued and interested in each other’s presence, both for completely different reasons, it seemed, for as Aeon seemed to have saw them somewhere in her dreams, Fylass had an expression which indicated that they knew her in a personal level; no one that Fylass knows and holds dear deeply, actually know about who she was in the real world, but nonetheless, that didn’t really matter at the moment.

Fylass tried to pretend they didn’t know about her when they realized the expression they were giving off, and didn’t say a thing, until someone else in the group did.

"...Oh, miss? …What are you doing here with your people? The weather doesn’t seem to be the appropriate one to wander around, especially if the villagers are going with you." Dero said, half lying.

"Regarding that, I actually wanted to request something from the Queen." Aeon said, with the gray jay besides her flying around, seemingly distressed by something.

"...? What would that be?"

"...It would request shelter at the Card Castle for me and my people. I got another one of those visions early in the day, and while I don’t have much recollection on what I saw, I know the message it was trying to send, and I fear for the safety of the Wonderlanders, so I thought that the Card Castle would be a more well secured place for protection."

Dero felt a shiver of unease when he heard that - it felt too similar to the one day he woke up in Wonderland for the first time, with all those people refuging at the Castle’s doors as the looming threat that started his oath kept on going.He pondered about that request for a bit though, and eventually came to the conclusion that he was not going to commit the same mistakes that led him to lose the one he loved.

"...I accept your request, and I am sure that the Queen will do so as well." He remarked and pointes his swords towards the starting point where the group had started walking. "Follow that path, and you’ll be there in no time, yet I recommend you to hurry, as like you said, your safety could be in danger - When you get there, I’d advise you to stay away from the windows and things along those lines, since it does seem like a huge storm… or something worse could happen."

With those statements out of the line, Aeon silently nodded and thanked the Jailer as she and the other villagers of the town went to the Castle as fast as it could to still be considered walking, although, the bird that accompanied them seemed keen on actually following the suits and their gang, for reasons that seemed unknown, but it’s not like it could be important that a mere bird were following them, right?

When the rest of the villagers were out of view, the group kept on going towards their destination before it could be too late, time is running out, time is running out, and yet, some had their head lost in their thoughts.

"...I… I feel like I saw her once before… Is she… No, it can’t be." Maforanti thought - apparently, he still had difficulties in remembering some other things that should’ve been in his head when he received that epiphany, but he had to keep his mind busy regarding another event that was sure to follow.

The path leading to the Looking Glass was becoming more narrow, as if someone was contracting the mere fabric of reality, with the skies enclosing, and the trees stretching to make the path feel more claustrophobic, and the path of dirt lengthening to make each step feel more difficult to do; everyone walking along felt a sense of unrest, but the silence was still present, and it couldn’t be more palpable.

Nonetheless, they got to the place where the Looking Glass is supposed to be, but the shack it was in felt contorted, and even more out of place than the rest of the world, and its inside didn’t help to ease that feeling as Fylass turned the knob to open it; the gray wooden planks of the floor and walls were peeling its layers like tapestry, as its remains were still on the air, never able to touch the floor, the table where that mismatch of a board was below now had a shape that was so far from what it could’ve been once, shape that couldn’t be described, while still having that board on top, and the faint smell of wet clay and vinegar floated across the decaying walls.

The Looking Glass on the other hand, looked just the same as always, but its normalcy compared to the rest of the room was what made it so off putting to even look at.

"...I got a bad feeling about whatever is going to happen on the other side, but at this point, it’s this, or having to bear the possible danger of not doing anything." Fylass said as they got closer to the Looking Glass, confirming that it was still able to be passed through, and such, they handed their hand towards the group that weren’t Suits or Pieces, so they were able to go through as well.

Step by step, everyone left Wonderland to finish off a threat that started ever since the gates of Underland were opened, and they were greeted by the same decrepit shack that greeted them in the other world, but now, the sheer, freezing cold winds welcomed them to the stagnant, possibly dying world, Underland. Buddy and Celeernyx didn’t even take a look at the surroundings outside the shack and they could already tell that something was extremely off, as if someone was taking off the air that the group breathed all of a sudden.

It wasn’t until Fylass opened the door that they realized the situation they were in - everything was far too cold for Underland, and the faint sound of a clock ticking echoed throughout the whole land, but what was the most eerie of everything was the silence that drowned Underland; yet another bad omen. It either meant the Jabberwocky wasn’t here yet, or it already caused everyone’s voices to get muffled by its jaws, like how it happened so long ago.

"I can already feel that this is going to be a great hassle… Let’s bring our weapons now, before we regret that we didn't do it earlier." Unicorn said, and so, the group took their weapons out due to perfectly knowing that this adventure will take a drastic move sooner or later, and were about to leave the shack to finally settle this for good, ot at least they hoped so - They knew the Jabberwocky would just rise again after a while, for its curse would just latch onto someone else, and the cycle would just repeat again, but at the very least, contain it for some time would be enough for the people, and it would be even more than enough that that creature doesn’t cause a disaster in Underland, yet again.

It wasn’t until Fylass stepped out of the door that they heard something that apparently had come with them through the Looking Glass, being that same gray jay the Mayor of Tarot Town was holding with her, one that was odd to look at, since it seemed to have some intelligence that a bird wouldn’t be able to possess, which is ironic, since in Wonderland, not much things make sense.

"...Huh… How did this bird follow us?" Banshee asked rhetorically, wanting to ask how didn’t anyone see that the gray jay was tagging along.

"...It shouldn’t matter, we need to get going before it’s too late to act…" Celeernyx spoke up right after.

The gray jay on the other hand, flew across the room and landed on one of Fylass’ antlers as the Wolpertinger they were now. The club wanted to take them off there, but after a couple of seconds of trying, they figured out it wouldn’t budge, so they left it be, besides, this world is running on a countdown, a house of cards if you will, and there will be no failsafe if they break it by not hurrying up.

With this new "companion" tagging along with them, everyone got out of the dying walls of the room, hurrying to get to the White Kingdom to see if everything was doing ok with Neptune taking care of the Castle and the people around it from the Jabberwocky’s jaws, or if that creature already did its rampage. Dero and Giselle seemed to know the path to get there, including the King, Queen, and the Bishop, as if even after all those years, they still got to remember Underland before the incident, and years before such, Giselle’s own death…

Nonetheless, the silence was still in the air, but gladly enough, when they got to the town close to the White Castle, none of the architecture seemed damaged in any significant way, proving that the Jabberwocky - somehow - haven’t gotten here yet, but that raised the question of where were the people, since at the very least, a modicum of noise should come from them; it was so quiet that the group could hear their own heartbeats, but oddly enough, not the sound of the ticking pocket watch in Fylass’ bag…

"...Wait a minute…" Fylass grabbed their bag, and look at its contents - that book, the pocket watch and… The Club Key, which guards their part of the Card Castle, and from there, their diary…

…

Fylass took out the pocket watch, and indeed, its hands were not moving, which wouldn’t be a problem in and of itself, but what was the most eerie of all was that it didn’t seem to be an external problem, and rather it seemed more as if time itself had stopped - it would be exaggerated to think about such possibility, but by closer inspection on the houses’ windows, none of the clocks that were visible through them seem to work either, which would explain the deafening silence, or at least, part of it.

"...This is getting worse by the day, huh…?" Ades said, trying to process the situation at the moment. Either way, seeing how nothing else was happening at the Town, whether that be literally or figuratively, the rest of the group decided to get to the White Castle to confirm if everything was okay.

Step by step, it was as if the climate was getting colder to the touch, to the point that it became almost unbearable, and the distance was harder and harder to see due to an odd fog that started surrounding the place entirely, like that fog that covered Time’s Clock Tower - things get inexplicable in the span of a few seconds in this world, to the point that it seemed that someone was tampering with the fabric of reality once again, and if that were true, they knew exactly who it was, but they were too busy and dreaded of such assumption that no one would prefer to utter his name.

Nonetheless, even with the world conspiring against them, they got to the doors of the White Castle, and from there, it was much clearer where did the people go - they were taking shelter in the gray, marble walls of the castle, apparently knowing the danger they were under, as well, with many being too silent out of the fear that if the Jabberwocky got here, they would all be doomed for sure. Neptune was close to the King and Queen’s thrones, doing his job as well as he was capable of without the Royal Pieces’ orders.

After a little though, he got to see the group amongst the people that were taking shelter.

"My King! My Queen!" He said as he walked towards them, being careful of not tripping someone out of the blue, and when he got to them, he bowed to them in a respectful manner. "I did as you were told and kept your Kingdom safe."

"...I am grateful for such, however… I must ask, why are all these people here?" Buddy said - in any other context, this would lead to any sort of interrogation or even scorn, but knowing the situation they were in, it was a relieved thank you, disguised as a question.

"My King, the people witnessed the Jabberwocky in the far away distance, and wanted a place to be safe at, so I thought it’d be for the best if I let the townsfolk stay until the situation got better, but knowing the danger that creature means to all of us, I am not so sure…"

That sank dread on everyone’s minds - The Jabberwocky really got here, but it was by a miracle that it hasn’t spotted this place yet, but it wouldn’t take long until it did… Lucid came down with an idea to keep the people safe, though.

"...What if we send your people to Wonderland? The Jabberwocky isn’t there, and if it goes back, we can send your people here again, as we take care of that menace." Deep down, Lucid wanted anything but to see their friends and loved ones hurt, or even dead, but there wasn’t any more choice on what they could do, yet dragging people like Fylass or Chaos to this didn’t sit well with the Porcelain man.

Speaking of Chaos, though, since he realized what he really is, he couldn’t look at Neptune the same way, knowing that at the very least, they could’ve been friends, or even more before he lost his memory, and his silence was nothing like how he would have acted in any other way; The Mad Hatter didn’t seem mad anymore, just… bleak, but probably thoughtful. Neptune on the other hand, looked at him with a sense of faint memories and nostalgia, whether it was before Chaos could have time with him, or after, who’s to tell? Anyways, Neptune still had a job to do, and he thought that what Lucid had said could be a good enough idea to keep everyone safe and sound.

"...The Bishop seems to have a decent plan… Do we go with it, my King?"

Buddy pondered on that - he had been so rude and disrespectful to not only the Wonderlanders but also the same people which he should appreciate since they are part of the same hierarchy he’s part of, and even then, they’re still willing to help out, it maybe wasn’t for him, or maybe it was, but what mattered was that even after all of that trouble, the people that he wronged in this adventure still wanted to help out. It reminded him of simpler times where everything was okay and he didn’t have much to worry about… Those times are gone by the same creature that is terrorizing Underland right now, and the Wonderlanders surely were at fault, but… at this point, did it even matter?

"...Yes, yes. It sounds good enough, please go through with it - One of the Suits should accompany you people for you to go through the Looking Glass, though…" He said.

"I will do so." A voice spoke up, being Giselle’s, with Dero right beside her - with what happened on the Card Castle when both were on their own, he wasn’t that keen on going with her, knowing that she didn’t want to be at his side, at least for now - he knew something was troubling her, but he also knew that he wasn’t in any position to do something about it, or at least, he believed he wasn’t.

"...Okay. I’d recommend you to hurry, before that thing notices you and things go sour. There’s little to no time left for us to wander around doing nothing." Buddy remarked, as Neptune and Giselle left the scene to try and get the people to get out and take shelter in Wonderland, being one of the few actual options they had to avoid annihilation. Some were immediately on board, some others refused as the offer was on the table, but anyway, all of them ended up complying in one way or another, and as silently as they could, the Castle was quickly emptied, with only the group standing on the now lone walls.

Fylass, although being mostly quiet as things enveloped, seemed extremely troubled - not only because of the Jabberwocky, not only because of Cosmounse, but also for something else, that no one could put a finger on what it was - The gray jay above them seemed also distressed, as whenever the kid took a step that placed them closer to any window or door leading to the outside, the bird would try to make them go back, may be by chirping right next to them or even trying to use its faint strength to make them back away, not that the kid wanted to get out just now, knowing what kind of threat was outside the Castle’s walls.

"You seem quite anxious, dontcha?" A voice spoke to them on the side, being Rooky’s voice which just so happened to get out of the crown willingly, with Buddy taking notice of that, being fitting now, considering that she was extremely quiet due to staying in that crown, and only some people could hear her, for some reason, Fylass included.

Fylass was taken aback for a second, but quickly gained composure.

"Well… Yeah, I am, but it’s for what’s happening right now, and such…"

"...Are you sure? I ain’t gonna get mad if you’re lying!" She snickered.

"..."

"It’d proooooobably recommend you to spill the tea before it’s too late for you to do so, I am part of a crown, but even I know that bottling up feelings just so no one can see them is dumb. You’d bet how Buddy would be acting sometimes after a certain incident."

"...You know that?"

"Maybe! Maybe not! I am just waiting for them to notice."

"Why haven’t you told them anything?"

"Because it’d be funnier that way! Besides, do ya reeeeeeally think that they’d trust a word that I say? Being a crown apparently takes away points of credibility!" She spoke up. "But I digress, what I am saying is that at one point they’ll probably discover whatever you’re hiding, but making sure you reveal that to them, or that they figure that on their own depends on ya!"

"..." Fylass stood silent, thinking on what she just said - they wouldn’t want them to know that they could maybe not even exist, being just a figment on someone’s imagination, and yet, that feeling is eating Fylass from the inside, not being able to share this with someone just caused them more pain, but they didn’t want to cause more pain to others.

"...But-" Fylass was about to say something until they noticed something in the distance, or well, someone else noticed that something in the distance; The Clock Tower was seemingly acting strange, with its hands moving back and forth erratically, to the point that its hands spelled out impossible hours, which was odd, since time had stopped. The fog made it hard to see, but it was clear that something was very, very wrong.

"...Er… Apparently, the Jabberwocky isn’t the only thing we have to deal with now." Unicorn said, also noticing the anomalies that were going on in the Tower.

"Could Majaway be there? That’s the only explanation I could figure out on this…" Celeernyx remarked.

Eventually, it came down to a consensus that they needed to get there, to not deal with two problems at the same time, and might as well try to fix one of them before they went through with the next one. The Gray Jay on Fylass’ head insisted the kid not to keep going, but it had to be done, and as the Wolpertinger left, it had no choice than to begrudgingly tag along to a possible danger that had to be dealt with.

The area was even harder to get to than the White Castle, being something unremarkable for sure… It was freezing cold, with the cold winds so familiar of the area making it hard for one to focus due to the foreboding sound they made, and the fog getting increasingly thicker and harder to look through, until eventually, it all stopped.

The cold of the land disappeared.

The winds stood still in the air.

The fog stopped being a thing.

Now, the Clock Tower was on the view, and an impending sense of doom made itself present amongst the dread and discomfort. It looked… off, ignoring how its hands moved erratically as the sound of gears turning could make someone deaf if they got closer, there was something about it that felt dangerous to even touch, and even Time himself didn’t feel okay by stepping on it, being just as quiet and usual, to the point that not many didn’t even notice he was there.

"...I fear whatever’s going to happen next." Ades said again, as Fylass got closer to get to the entrance door, being opened by something or someone, long before they got there. It was all too quiet, until all of a sudden…

A growl was heard in the sky.

It was enough to shake the ground and the hearts of the victims that heard it, and by taking a look at the now dark skies, they saw it, the Jabberwocky, and sadly, it saw them too.

"...Oh no."

The fog, cold and the winds appeared again in the span of a second, and the creature flying across the skies quickly flew across the group, placing everyone into a panic.

"RUN!" The first of the voices yelled across the chaotic grasslands, making it clear for everyone that they needed to flee if they wanted a chance to live - taking advantage of the muffling sound of the winds and the thickness of the fog, everyone ran to a random direction with the hopes that the Jabberwocky wouldn’t be able to see them.

A creature so mighty would place everyone in a panic quickly, but in the case of these people, many only have heard of it, but never got to see this creature fighting in its full glory, and that was terrifying, as for the ones of the White Kingdom, this only brought them the worst memories of loss they could ever think about, and if they didn’t hurry, they’ll be part of those stories as well.

The sound of the grass being flown around thanks to the strong winds was just for the setting, to see a tragedy play out in a random theater, and sadly, there were both spectators and actors in the same play - a twisted scenario serving for entertainment of a few.

Fylass (with the gray jay still in head) quickly stumbled with Lucid and Buddy in the fog, being relieved that at least they found someone across the chaos, but it quickly shifted into panic as they heard the creature possibly getting closer, and it was time to get the others and run - poor them that didn’t plan this all the way through.

It would’ve probably ended well if the fog hadn’t disappeared out of the blue - like a cruel joke, it wouldn’t have ended well for any one, huh? Repeating a tragedy that both Wonderlanders and Underlanders would have to go through - it was only fair, right? Now they were exposed to the creature hunting them down, and it was pretty convenient that it saw the Wolpertinger and their companions first.

As the Jabberwocky flew towards them, Fylass pondered on what they could do in that short span of seconds… This creature going after them was created by them, after all, for they knew that this place wasn’t what it seemed, they knew the truth, but the others didn’t…

"..." Fylass remembered what Rooky had told to them, and at this point, whether it was for them to know the truth, or for them to finally understand them, and what they go through, Fylass got the cleaver from their bag and threw it towards the King and Bishop with the Club Key still inside, and sprinted towards the creature that would kill them with the hopes that maybe, they could have a bit more time to escape if the fog came back to save them in time.

With a swift move, they seemed to have managed to make at least the faint bits of damage to the Jabberwocky’s face, as they were lifted towards the skies for the final act, with the gray jay doing its best to avoid the same attack and fate.

Lucid yelled for their name as it all went through, not wanting to see another one of his loved ones die by the same methods, but it was all too late. Fylass knew they could come back as long as they fell asleep like some mere dream, but no one else knew, so in their eyes, they could only see how that dragon opened its jaws and all of a sudden, the kid was, sadly, no more, as their body shatters inside the creature.

The deafening silence came to be again, as if everything had stopped in time, with Lucid, Buddy and the others seeing how the kid died in front of their eyes, unable to save them in time, and they could only stay on their knees in hopelessness and shock, as the fog didn’t seem to go back, and the Jabberwocky was going to go after the King and Bishop.

Or well, was.

Dero, not being able to afford being in disbelief in a situation like this, intercepted between the future attack and took his sword out, trying to attack it once more with the hope that his attacks would be enough to scare it away, but surprisingly enough, no attack came.

Everyone had closed their eyes to not see the rampage, but no rampage came - everything went quiet, so so quiet, and when they opened their eyes, yes, the Jabberwocky WAS there, but it wasn’t moving - in fact, it was still and stiff on the air, stuck in time, still with that expression that a wild animal would make before eating its prey.

"..." Dero was only filled with questions and sadness, not only for this, but also because he had, yet again, lost someone that he could’ve maybe protected, and in ire, he started swinging his sword around, hoping that that would be enough to kill it, but no damage he could make seemed to even leave a dent on it, apparently because of the position it was in, not being able to give or receive damage, resembling a taxidermied animal, but those eyes were still full of life…

Lucid cried out for Fylass’ name, knowing that he was gone, and wouldn’t come back, or at least for now.

"WHY?! WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING!?" He yelled, doing his best not to choke on his words. "AS SOON AS I SEE A BRIGHT FUTURE FOR MYSELF AND THE PEOPLE I LOVE, THIS HAPPENS! WHY?! FIRST MY BUDDY, NOW THE KID?! WHY AM I SUCH A FAILURE?!"

Buddy was silent at this point, not being able to process what just occurred, but that last statement made him click something on his head.

"...Y-Your Buddy? …Wait… What do you mean by that…? You weren’t there on that… day…"

"...!"

"...S-Shard?" He spoke up. Shard, that name Lucid had before losing his old buddy and body in Wonderland, that name that no one should be able to remember at this point, besides someone that would be close to him on those days… Was he…"

"...That’s… T-That’s my name…" Lucid said, trying not to drown himself in his sorrows. "...How do you…"

It was clear who they were talking to.

Apparently, they weren’t gone, they never were.

"...Mags…?" He got closer, and all of a sudden, it was clear who he was with the whole time, and without words, the two got themselves in a massive embrace, crying over a loss, and crying over seeing another loss being healed.

The others would try to follow, not knowing what was exactly happening, but it was all too confusing to focus on more than one thing.

…

Lucid, as he realized the truth of the current situation, grabbed the bag Fylass had thrown to him, as one of his sorrows was eased, another one followed… Although…

This isn’t the end, now is it?

-------

@galakianexplosion (DRAWING AND SUCH :D)

@heiressofdoodles

@lostsoulau-ask

@loaflovesdoodling

@ilikesillythingswooo

@monsterhatdoodles

@moon-mage

@kirby-universe-4162

@den-of-the-blue-dragon

@kachikirby

#fylass in wonderland #fylass through the looking glass

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theboludaspring · 2 months

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You Can't Fight Fate

For the Cardverse week, @aphcardverse-week Day 1: You Can't Fight Fate | oracle | prophecy | "I'm not supposed to be here." AO3 link Characters: America & France (platonic). Summary:

Destruction lies ahead for the kingdom of Spades. The young king is the only one who can see it. The King of Diamonds is his only chance.

“I’m not supposed to be here.”

The room is small, dark, and gloomy. The dim candlelight is barely enough to illuminate it, so most corners remain hidden by shadows. Dust stings his nose, and the smell of wet earth in the air makes it obvious how little used it is. Surely a perfect place for clandestine meetings, just as the other king assured him.

That, however, doesn't stop Alfred's eyes from scanning every nook and cranny. He's not foolish enough to believe he's safe, no matter how much Francis smiles and assures him that it's just the two of them there.

Anyone could be watching, judging him, waiting for the perfect opportunity to deal him a killing blow. He has to be careful, as Arthur has always told him, many will try to trick him and take advantage of his inexperience and naivety. He is not a child anymore, he–

“And yet… here you are.” Francis’s silky smooth voice interrupts his thoughts, diverting his attention from the room and trapping him like a spider’s web. There’s something about this elegant man that Alfred can’t help but admire, even as he does something as simple as pouring him a glass of wine—a wine glass with gold rims and an extravagant, expensive ornament on its base.

No one would think that just a few years ago, his kingdom was the most impoverished.

“I need your help,” he admits, his voice sounding dry, immature. Not even close to the tone his host used. He hates having to be so honest with another kingdom and exposing such a weakness, but he doesn’t have many options left. “My kingdom, my people, my advisors— they all keep telling me that I must follow the path forged by the ancient kings.”

“Ah, yes.” The monarch took a sip from his own glass, and even in doing so, he seemed more elegant than Alfred could ever dream of being. He appeared so indifferent to his words, to Alfred, and it was frustrating because, in contrast, Alfred was giving him his full attention. “Your advisors, the Queen and the Jack. They are wise; perhaps you should listen to them.”

His chair hit the floor with a thud, the sound echoing in the small space.

“But I don’t want to!” Even standing there with a rude and, some would say, threatening attitude, the other blond barely looked at him, why didn’t he look at him? “If I follow their stupid advice, if I let everything continue the same, how will we ever improve?” No, that wasn’t really his concern–, “How… how will I ever stop my kingdom from falling apart? If we continue like this, if I listen to them, our only destiny will be destruction.”

“You can’t fight destiny, little king.”

The taste of blood flooded his mouth from where he was furiously biting the inside of his cheek. He had not slept properly for nights. His gift kept showing him over and over again what would happen if he did not act; it tormented him. And no one listened to him! No matter how much he insisted, how much he tried to make them understand. Yao claimed it was just nerves about his new life, and Arthur thought he just wanted to get attention, to be the imaginary hero of a made-up story. He had come here because he thought that maybe, of all people, Francis Bonnefoy would understand what his people didn't. He was supposed to. But seeing him now, barely sparing him a glance as he swirled his stupid wine around like it was the only thing that really mattered…

He was tired.

“You did it.” And it’s an accusation born of disappointment, of pain even. He hears himself sounding like the kid he assures others he’s not, and he hates it and regrets everything. Coming here, believing this would serve any purpose, opening his mouth, trusting him even a little. Yet could anyone really blame him? He had seen how the Kingdom of Diamonds changed and prospered under that man's hand, how he forced fate to mold itself into his image and ambitions, and that once inspired him. The monarch was some kind of hero, an idol, the savior that the gods had sent to Diamonds. But maybe he was wrong, maybe it was as everyone said, just a bit of luck. The man in front of him was nothing more than a—

He pauses, blinking a couple of times, unsure of what he’s seeing. In front of him, it isn’t Francis, the extravagant, relaxed and indifferent man he got to know. No. In front of him is the King of Diamonds, the one who took a nation destroyed by past wars, infertile and poor; and he forged it in the Crown of the kingdoms, the envy of every land.

He is the king that made every other monarch bow their heads, only a few years ago, completely changing the game’s field.

He smiles, but not a friendly smile; it’s the smile of a predator. For the first time, Alfred notices that danger was never hidden in the shadows, but in front of his eyes.

Alfred has his full attention for the first time, and he wants to escape from it.

“I did something like that, right?” The man keeps smiling, still sitting on that luxurious chair (or is it a throne…?), and he’s every centimeter of a king and a little bit more. He’s not like Alfred, really not, who is still trying to understand the ins and outs of this lifestyle and could maybe never understand them. It’s… amazing, and a silly part of him wants to bow his head to someone who’s without a doubt more powerful than himself.

(For now).

He doesn’t do it, he will never do it, but that silly part still exists.

“Teach me how,” he demands, asks, and begs, because he’s tired of dreaming with the fall of his kingdom, because he has seen the numbers and the threats that nobody else seems to pay attention to. Because he has begged for someone to hear him out, to stop treating him like an inexperienced kid playing to be king. And this is his opportunity, his only opportunity. “Please.”

“I could, yes,” he says, and something close to hope blooms in his chest. Something is changing the destiny that has been drawn, and the paths are opening in front of him. “but what will I get in return?”

“An ally,” he responds immediately, the only right answer. Alfred’s eyes shine, a possible future, the future he yearns for, it’s showing itself in front of his young eyes, and he knows he has to grab it with both his hands and not let go. “the strongest that you will ever have.”

Francis smiles at him.

#hetalia #cardverse #cardverse week 2024 #hws america #hws france #my fic #srry for my english

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coy-lee · 1 year

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Cheater, Cheater

@afloofwithmultipleinterests and I had a mIGHTY NEEEED.

And someone in my ask box stirred it up lol. You know who you are >:3

Anyway, there was a need to write some muy fluffy content involving a jester and a spambot. So if you're into that kind of content, stop on by and take a look.

Description: Spamton and Jevil do battle quite often. Spamton feels like Jevil is hiding the secret to freedom in that cell of his. Jevil knows better than that and would rather keep Spamton from finding out the no such secret exists. So, they duke it out, both wanting to win for their own reasons. This time, though, Jevil is a bit worried about how good Spamton has gotten at fighting him...so he takes the battle in a different direction. A very fun direction.

Cheater, Cheater

He was back at the gate. He'd have to beat him eventually, right? Right! He'd have to... He had to. Spamton didn't need the key. Due to his broken nature, he could glitch right through the invisible door and straight into the void Jevil called home. He never knew what to expect when entering the jester's domain. The decor changed quite often, although it was always themed around the circus.

The stairwell above echoed with the sound of Spamton's heels tapping against the hard floor as he walked near the bars. The inside was just as dark as always, making chills go down Spamton's spine. He couldn't chicken out now no matter what. Before Spamton could glitch through the door, the imp materialized himself from the shadows, bells jingling behind him.

"BOO HOO, BOO HOO, UEE HEE HEE! SO LONELY, SO LONELY I BE.. BUT LO, THREE VISI-" Jevil paused as he recognized Spamton almost instantly. "OH- ITS NOT A RESET, RESET! WHAT A WONDERFUL SURPRIZE!" The jester exclaimed in an illusionary tone of jubilation. "OH COME OUT, COME OUT! LET YOURSELF OUTSIDE, SPAMMY! WHAT FUN WE'LL HAVE, HAVE!"

Spamton groaned, already tired of the clown's antics. A small door appeared within the wall of bars before him. Jevil seemingly created it as a gag. Spamton walked through the door, only to step into a clown-themed tea room, but instead of there being a teapot, a gallon of carbonated 'Clown-Juice' sat in the middle of the table. There were various other jester themed decorations around the room, some that made sense... and some that didn't. Jevil proceeded to turn the chairs around, their backs against the table.

"HERE! I EVEN PUSHED UP YOUR SEAT FOR YA!"

The imp sat down in one of the chairs, holding up a spades teacup and slurping his drink as loudly as he could.

"I'M NOT A [[kids 6 and under]]! AND YOU'RE [[insane deal]] IF Y OU THINK I'LL [[one big gulp!]] ANY 0F TH4T [[WHOOPY JUICE!!!]]" Spamton shouted, trying to establish some ounce of dominance in the clown's realm. He had been here many times before. Even though it wasn't his pocket of unreality, Spamton was now quite familiar with the place... or at least used to expecting the unexpected. "Y0U KNOW DAMN WELL WHY I [[cruising around town]] DOWN HERE AND 1T ISN'T FOR A [[dinner for two]]."

Jevil went oddly quiet, however his smile widened. The table disappeared, and Jevil began to chug from the teacup he had in his gloved hand. After he was done he tossed the glass behind him, and it exploded similarly to how a certain prissy and popular queen's glass would back in Spamton's dark world.

"ENLIGHTEN ME, ENLIGHTEN ME!" Jevil started, a smirk replacing his usual cold smile. "IS IT TO PLAY A CARD GAME? OH! OR A GAME OF TAG? OR- OH! I KNOW! YOU WANNA TELL JOKES, JOKES!? OH I LOVE JOKES, AND LAUGHING! I BET IT'S BEEN AWHILE SINCE YOU'VE LAUGHED, RIGHT?" Jevil's word vomit was soon cut off by Spamton who was taken aback by that last query.

"I'LL HAVE YO U KNOW THAT I [[unintelligible laughter]] PLENTY, ESPECIALLY AFTER I [[GAME OVER]] YOU [[juggalo]]!" Spamton countered, gritting his teeth. Admittedly, he was starting to feel the adrenaline rush and the nervousness right behind it. He wouldn't lose again. He WOULDN'T, but doubt was fluttering in his stomach. He could never tell what was going on in Jevil's mind. As an Addison, Spamton was used to predicting people's habits, wants and needs, but Jevil was a severe outlier, and that drove the salesman nuts.

"UEE HEE HEE!" His laugh was hollow, but imitated glee. "SO ITS THE OLD NUMBER'S GAME YOU WANT!" The clown tapped a gloved finger to his chin a moment in genuine thought, before snapping his tail similarly to fingers. He smiled widely at Spamton, his eyes sparkling with an unknown intent. "IF YOU INSIST... I'LL PLAY THAT GAME! BUT I WONT GO EASY ON YOU PINNOCHIO, CHIO~"

Jevil turned Into his devilsknive, cracking the ground open to where he and Spamton would fall through into the endless void of space. It was the perfect place to battle... an empty canvas of freedom.

"AAYEGUFFFAH! [[$!?!]] WOULD IT [[killed]] YOU TO M4KE IT A SOFTER LANDING? [[JIMINY CHRISTMAS]]" Spamton exclaimed as he slowly got up, rubbing his bottom to relieve the pain from the sudden fall. He quickly shook it off. He had a fight to win. He couldn't let a little surprise like that throw him off. That was Jevil's whole shtick. Surprises. He huffed, getting himself ready for anything.

"BETTER BE QUICK ON YOUR TOES, TOES!" Jevil teased before healing Spamton up with magic for a fairly unfair battle, touching his shoulder to transfer the magic to his HP. "WHO KNOWS, KNOWS... MAYBE YOU'LL OUTSMART ME FOR A CHANGE!" Jevil vaguely encouraged, making spamton feel a little more hopeful... for only a few seconds. "EMPHASIS ON MAYBE." The puppet would scowl at the Imp if he could. Jevil disappeared, reappearing way across from Spamton, dancing and putting on a stage show for the lone audience member. "YOU CAN HAVE THE FIRST MOVE, MOVE!"

"OOOOH NONONO. I'M NOT F4LLING FOR THAT [[tips and tricks]]. IF I GO FIRST YOU'LL [[uno reverse]] ME. [[Ladies first]], I INSIST," Spamton replied with a devilish grin of his own.

"OKIE DOKIE~ IF YOU INSIST THAT YOU INSIST!" Jevil shrugged, summoning his cliche card-deck bullets, shooting them in various patterns at Spamton, the puppet dodging them effortlessly by jumping, and defying gravity. He had gotten better since the last thousand attempts at trying to beat Jevil... To say the least, the imp was impressed. However, Jevil couldn't let that puppet find out the truth. That's honestly what made the clown refuse to let Spamton win... It was the puppet's motivation that scared the jester. That was why Jevil needed to win no matter what, or else... Spamton would lose that spark he himself lost so long ago.

The carousel appeared, however it was a bit different. The top and lower border were see-sawing while it spun around, and around. Jevil shot his arms out straight in a T-Pose, summoning various rocking animals with his chaotic magic as they followed along to the beat of the carousel. ... However, despite that fact, Spamton was keeping up, and only got hit once. This was making Jevil kind of nervous..

The nervousness Spamton was feeling before began to wane as he was off to the best start he'd ever had. The carousel was one of the more difficult moves for Spamton to dodge, so this success was a promising sign. So long as Jevil stayed on his script of magical acts, the puppet had a chance.

"IS THAT THE [[Best in the business!]]

Y OU'VE GOT, [[FOOL]]!? AHEAHEAHEA!" Spamton summoned a phone and spun it in the air like a lasso before flinging it directly at Jevil. The jester shot up into the air to avoid the attack only for the ringing coming from the phone to echo and bounce around the invisible box they were battling in. Jevil danced around most of the sound waves, only being nicked by one.

The carousel started to slow back to its original pace, but kept seesawing. Perhaps Jevil would have to up his game!

"FAR FROM IT PIKACHU, I'M JUST GETTIN' STARTED, STARTED! METAMORPHOSIS!" The clown transformed into his weapon form, boomeranging around spamton, and lunging at him every 8th of a second. After a few throuple hits, spamton caught onto the pattern, and used mini-spams as deflections to catapult the attention away from himself. Jevil growled a little in frustration as tiny baby Spamtons jumped in his way as he tried to hit Spamton. His smile, however, never left his face.

"YOU FORGET I HAVE [[the boys]] WITH ME AT ALL TIMES? SPEAKING OF WHICH, HOW ABOUT WE PLAY [[DODGE PIPIS!]]" Spamton exclaimed, hurling pipis after pipis at the jester like they were snowballs... Explosive snowballs!

Jevil had just changed back into his normal form when spamton attacked, catching the jester off guard. "OH SEAM IN THE ANGEL'S HEAVEN-" Jevil got hit by three, which knocked his head off his block, springing up and down on his coiled spring neck. If Spamton could use decoys, so could he! Jevil sped up, admittedly tiring him out more than he liked. He went so fast, duplicates of himself were summoned, and it was hard for Spamton to pinpoint a target. ... Jevil had to think of something QUICK, Or else.. that last speck of hope in spamton may die. Wait... he knew! Jevil just needed an opportunity to escape this blue egg barrage...

"ALTHOUGH A BIT EGGS-TREME, YOUR MOVE IS QUITE A BLAST!"

"..."

Spamton stopped in the middle of a throw, his brain processing what he just heard. Dial-up sounds took over his speech while his glasses blue-screened temporarily. After a moment, he shook his head like a dog, coming back to reality... and he let out the biggest most tortured groan.

"UUUUUUUUHHHHG... THOSE PUNS WERE SO [[rotten to the core]] I THINK I'M GONNA THROW UP! @c@" Spamton grimaced, glaring at the clown grinning back at him, proud as can be.

As expected, Spamton recoiled his attacks to revive from that hard, mental blow of awful punnery. Jevil teleported away from his spot, into the void, plotting a sneak attack Spamton would never expect out of the likes of him... at least not one in the midst of battle. After the doll was done cringing, he was about to dodge jevil's attack... when he noticed the imp was no longer there. Now THAT wasn't fair!

"HEY WISE GUY! WHAT'S THE BIG [[deal!]] HIDING IS [[cheater cheater pumpkin eater!]]"

Silence. Complete and utter silence... until he felt two gloves vibrate into his sides, startling him. He spun around, only to see nobody there.

"AYEE! H-HEY! F4CE ME LIKE A [[valued customer]]!" Spamton shouted, his voice cracking as he was surprised by the sudden assault to his sides. He did a decent job of keeping his composure. Now he needed to stay vigilant. That clown could be anywhere.

"FACE YA LIKE A VALUED CUSTOMER, CUSTOMER?" Jevil giggled, appearing behind him again, however this time the gloves were off. The devil poked slowly up, and down the glitch's ribs. "LAST TIME I CHECKED IT WAS OPPOSITE DAY IN THE DARK WORLDS, WORLDS! IM THE SALESMAN, AND YOU'RE THE CUSTOMER! CAN YOU GUESS WHAT I'M SELLIN~?"

A mischievous smile stretched across the joker's features. Spamton wiggled, his hands shooting down to grab Jevil's fingers, but he had already disappeared again.

"GYA!TYEEHEEHE- [[$!?!]] THE PRESSES! W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" the puppet demanded, wide eyed and looking in every direction to locate the culprit. "Y OU'RE NOT PLAYING [[fair share]], CLOWN!"

"I'M NOT PLAYIN FAIR, FAIR?" The jester's voice echoed against the void. The joker in question chuckled from the darkness at this new game that would surely tire this puppet out. "WELL THERE'S NOTHING IN THE RULES AGAINST A LITTLE..." Jevil now appeared in front of him, a devious grin spread across his cheeks,"GIGGLY, GIGGLY, TICKLE, TICKLE NOW AND THEN~ BELIEVE ME, I DOUBLE CHECKED AND IT'S COMPLETELY LEGAL!" Jevil wiggled his eight fingers at Spamton, dull claws catching the dealmaker's attention. He jumped back, tripping a little bit before putting his hand up in defense as Jevil floated closer with that playfully evil stare.

"W-W-WAIT! HOLD 0N! Y-Y-YOU THINK THAT [[silly billy]] MOVE WILL WORK ON [[number1ratedsalesman1997]]? HA! TOO BAD FOR Y OU! I'M NOT [[tickles your fancy]]," Spamton retorted, squaring up, crossing his arms defiantly, and standing his ground. He knew Jevil wouldn't buy what he was selling, but he had to try. Unfortunately, though he was a good actor, the sudden rosiness of his cheeks called his bluff.

"OH... YOU AREN'T?" Jevil pretended to look convinced, before shrugging. "WELL... GUESS I WAS WRONG! I KNOW YOU'RE AN HONEST, HONEST SALESMAN. HMPH... FIGURES... GUESS ILL HAVE TO JUST USE MY SPECIAL ATTACK, ATTACK!" Jevil shrugged, sounding disappointed... Did Spamton's lie actually work!? YES!!! THAT HAD NEVER WORKED! It hadn't worked on any Addison that had asked him, or even Seam! But somehow it worked on JEVIL!? Spamton thought he would see through that scam! Jevil really was a fool...

"WHAT A [[sham]]. GUESS IT'LL HAVE TO DO! IM SURE I CAN HANDLE [[Specil move]]."

"YOU SUUUUURE...? IT'S PRETTY HARD TO DODGE!" Jevil smirked, summoning Spamton's own smirk.

"AH! SHOWING YOUR HAND, HUH? WELL Y OUR [[light shower]] OF SCYTHES IS IMPRESSIVE, BUT NOT SPECIL ENOUGH T0 DEFEAT ME," the salesman replied cheekily. His blush receded as his confidence grew once more. He could handle this. Jevil's special attack was always that giant scythe move.

" LET'S GET THIS [[show on the road]]. THEN I'LL SHOW YOU A RE4L ATTACK!" Spamton taunted.

"WE'LL SEE SPAMTON, SPAMTON!" Jevil flew back over in position before metamorphosing into a scythe, and shooting up towards the ceiling. One scythe fell down, then another and another and another... Spamton knew the rhythm of this attack, becoming a pro at dodging the basic attacks Jevil would usually give the player.

After all the scythes fell, it left the giant undodgeable one to slowly fall. Spamton braced for impact, raising his arms above his head to protect his plastic noggin upon impact... but it never came. He opened a single eye to see two clawed hands hovering above his underarms, but he was too late to correct his fatal mistake. Jevil touched down, scribbling, and drawing shapes with his nails across the cloth of the salesman's jacket, which was surprisingly thinner than spamton had remembered.

He tried to fight it, but he couldn't hold in what he didn't expect to come out!

"AYEEEEAHEAHEAHEAHEA! TH-THAHAHAT'S NOT HOHOHOW THIS WOR-GYYYAaAaAaA!" Spamton squealed out, clamping his arms down, knees buckling immediately. He was falling backwards into Jevil's hold due to his weak knees. The puppet took a deep breath to spit out the last coherent sentence he would be saying for a while.

"PLEASE-JEVIL-YOU-DON'T-HAVE-T0-DO-THIS-WE'RE-FRIENDS-R1GHT-PAL-I'LL-GIVE-Y0U-BEST-DEALS-4-LIFE-I-SWEAR!!!"

"JEVIL, JEVIL!?" Jevil paused as soon as he heard his name. His ACTUAL name... Spamton had never said his actual name before! "YOU CALLED ME JEVIL!!" Overjoyed, he squeezed Spamton in a rib cracking hug.

"AG-G-G-GYUH-Y-YOUR EARS MUST BE [[out of batteries]]! I-UHG- NEVER SAID [[legal name]]!" Spamton wheezed out, wiggling to free himself from Jevil's crushing grip.

Jevil loosened his hug a bit, however not enough to let Spamton out of his grasp. "HMMM... YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU'RE RIGHT! I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING BECAUSE OF HOW HARD YOU'RE LAUGHING!"

"WH-" Jevil started tickling again, one arm around Spamton's chest, raising his undershirt up, and the other hand trailing around the doll's stomach.

"COOOOCHIE COOCHIE COO LITTLE SALESMAN~ ARE YOU TICKLISH, TICKLISH HERE HM? I THINK I CAN HEAR YOU GIGGLING, GIGGLING! I'M TOO DEAF TO HEAR REALLY ANYTHING, SO I'M NOT TOO SURE~!" Jevil noticed a little X where Spamton's bellybutton was supposed to be. He stored that information for much later in his playfully evil onslaught.

"STYAHAHAHAHEAHEAHEAHEA![[HOLY TOLEDO]] NYEAHEAHEAHEAHEAHEA!" Spamton cackled, squirming and kicking aimlessly in the clutches of the clown. He tried to grab at the offending hand exploring his sensitive belly.

Jevil pretended to just now notice his tail was plugging his ears. "OHHHH... THERE WAS THE PROBLEM! NOW I CAN HEAR YOU JUUUUST FINE! UHEHEHEHEEE... SUCH A TICKLISH LITTLE TUM-TUM, HM? GEEZ, I DUNNO HOW YOU CAN STAND IT, NO WAY I'D LAST! TIIIICKLE TICKLE TICKLE, TIIIICKLE~ KITCHY KIIITCH~"

"OHOHO MYHYHYHY GOHOHOHOHOD! SHUHUHUHUT YOUR [[PIE HOLE]] YOU- AYEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEE!" the puppet cried out. The tickling was already making him lose all control, and that was embarrassing enough, but the teasing? Jevil was going to kill him with all that sickeningly sweet baby talk. You could hardly make out Spamton's red cheeks due to how red the rest of his face was. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide from his adversary, but he wasn't in a position to do that. All he could do was flail and squeal... But the part that truly made the salesman want to hide was the fact that... he didn't hate this... At all.

BUT HIS WORST ENEMY COULD NEVER KNOW THAT SO-

"THIHIHIHIHIHIS IHIHIHIHIS [[AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION]] YOHOHOHOHOU ANIMAHAHAL!"

"A WAR CRIME? KEHEHE~" Jevil stopped, letting Spamton catch his breath. The puppet relaxed, his giggling mixed in with static as he panted. "SMILING DURING A WARCRIME DOESN'T SEEM VERY ORDERLY... THEN AGAIN I WOULDN'T KNOW ABOUT ORDER, ORDER! UEE HEE EHEE~ I THINK YOU ENJOY, ENJOY THIS, DON'T YOU SPAM-MAN?" Jevil questioned, a rare, genuine smile coming out.

"W-W-WHAT!? N-N-NO!!! THAT'S [[Crazy bread]]! I'M A PROFESSIONAL! I'M A [[BIGSHOT]]! BIGSHOTS DON'T-

DON'T -

DON'T -"

Spamton glitched, his glasses blue screening again. His entire face to the tip of his nose was bright red, steam puffed out from the sides of his head, and a car horn beeped, the sound coming from Spamton's agape mouth.

Jevil chortled a bit, letting his battle buddy let the embarrassment out of his system. "DON'T WHAT? DON'T HAVE FUN, FUN? WHAT'S WRONG WITH A LITTLE GIGGLE EVERY NOW AND THEN, HM?" Jevil questioned out of curiosity, and assurance. "ITS OKAY TO BE GOOFY AND FEEL GOOFY EVERY NOW AND AGAIN, AGAIN! DON'T YOU THINK SO?" Jevil poked just a single digit on Spamton's side just above his hip, feather light to just get giggles out of the salesman.

"GyeYEEhehehehe NOHOHOhoho!" Spamton laughed, shaking his head and trying to hide his face with his hands. He was no longer trying to stop Jevil's hands, now focusing on covering his red hot cheeks. "J-JEVIL IHEEHEEHeehee CAHAHAHAN'T!" He jerked away from the prodding finger and was able to rock forward, still breathless with giggles as he weakly attempted to crawl away.

Jevil giggled sinisterly, floating after spamton before grabbing both of his ankles. "GYEHEHE~? NYOHO YOU CAN'T? TELL ME STOP AND MAYBE I'LL BELIEVE YOU~!" Spamton fell on his padded tum as the devil pulled his legs out straight and sat on the back of his knees, hovering those ungloved claws above spamton's shoed tootsies. "UNTIL THEN, I GUESS ILL HAVE FUN WITH AN ENSY WEENSIE SPOT YOU DECIDED TO LEAVE OPEN~" Jevil playfully reminded, before slipping off both of those flat heeled leather shoes the salesman always wore. With no money to afford socks for those old shoes he found in the trash, Spamton's plush little feet were now completely exposed.

oh. NO.

"W-W-WAIT! TH-THAHAHAT'S EVIL!" Spamton's eyes widened to the size of saucers when he felt himself get pinned under the jester's weight. "THOSE ARE [[fine Italian leather]] YOU [[little sponge]]!" A wobbly smile stretched across the peddler's face just from the threat alone. He curled up his toes, trying to get ready for what was to come.

"REALLY!? I THOUGHT THESE WERE PLEATHER!" Jevil teased, tracing two nails down tiny feet, the delicate jointed toes scrunching up in response. Spamton snorted, trying to cover his mouth to hide his giggles and high pitched squeals. He only uncovered it to speak. "IHIT'S UHUP TO PLAHAHAYER INTERPRETAHATION!!" His puppet hands slammed back over his teeth, one trying to keep his bottom jaw closed and the other attempting to block the puppet mouth gap.

And with that.. another finger joined on both feet, now swirling and wiggling.

"OHO... IT ISNT HEALTHY TO HOLD BACK YOUR LAUGHTER SPAMTON! LET IT AAAALL OUT. KEHEHEE~"

"NNN-NNNGYKHKHKHK... MMM-PFFFFFTAHAHEAHEAHEAHEA!" Spamton finally burst out into hysterics. He was slapping the floor, trying to find relief from the sensations plaguing his tiny feetsies.

"OH MY FOX! SEE? ARENT YOU HAVING FUN? YOU SEEM TO BE ENJOYING YOURSELF! UEEHEHEHEE~" Jevil teased, ever so gently raking his nails over every inch of the doll's feet, including under and between those lil' toesies! "WE SHOULD BATTLE LIKE THIS MORE OFTEN! THIS KIND OF GAME IS SO MUCH MORE FUN THAN THAT OLD NUMBERS GAME!'' Jevil turned around slightly, seeing the jolly old puppet snorting, and thumping his fists on the ground. Snickering, the joker pulled away, turning around to face him, still on seated Spamton's knees. The imp temporarily stood to gently maneuver spamton facing up so the puppet could catch his breath easier.

"YOUHOU OKAY PINOCCHIO?" Jevil asked, giggling a bit at Spamton's expression.

"@c@ I'M -pant- STILL [[breathing the fresh air!]]" the spambot replied, recovering from that last attack. He rubbed his feet together to shoo away those dastardly phantom tickles left behind. "BUT I WILL NOT CONCEDE TO YOUR [[TOMFOOLERY]]. NEVER..."

"NEVER YOU SAY, SAY?" Spamton should NOT have given the jester such a sweet treat of an opening...

Jevil picked the puppet up under the arms, bringing the salesman onto his lap with a previous idea brewing to the forefront of his mind.

"PERHAPS THE RIGHT SPOT WOULD CHANGE YOUR MIND~" Jevil smirked, pulling Spamton's shirt back up from before revealing his plush tum, booping a side just barely with the pad of his finger, keeping his claws to himself for the time being.

"EEHEEHEEP! R-RIGHT SPOT? N-NO THERE ARE NOT MORE [[spot remover]] I SWEAR. Y-YOU'RE WASTING YOUR [[time sensitive offer]]..." Spamton rushed out. He giggled nervously and gave Jevil a pleading look... but he still never said the magic word. Instead, the salesman grabbed onto the jester's hands, holding them away from his body.

"NO MORE SPOTS? OH NO, NO, NO! I THINK YOU'VE FORGOTTEN, FORGOTTEN A FEW MISTER~!" Jevil giggled gently pushing Spamton's arms back, the salesman's arms still jelly after the prior attacks. "LIKE THESE TWO HIPS!" Jevil kneaded his thumbs into the joints, just barely skimming the doll's sides with his claws. Spamton flailed, kicking those little legs of his faster than a roadrunner.

"HAAEHAHEHEEHEA!! [[Fifty percent off!]] JEHEH-SNORT! [[Ha ha ha!]]AHAAH-"

"OOOOOORRRR..." Jevil crawled his hands to Spamton's sides and started to tickle that stuffed tum of his! "THIS LITTLE SWEET SPOT RIGHT HERE, HERE!"

"GYAAAHAEHEAHEAHEAHEA! NAHAHAT THE [[tummy wummy]]! AYEEHEEHEEHEE!" The spambot was lightly slapping at Jevil's chest as he squirmed fruitlessly. "YOHOHOURE THE DEHEHEVIL!"

"NOT THE TUMMY WUMMY? AW! BUT YOU SOUND LIKE YOU LOVE, LOVE THIS ON YOUR TUMMY WUMMY!" Jevil cooed, slowing the tickles down to be gentle. "DEVIL IS IN MY NAME! DON'T WEAR IT OUT~ OH! SPEAKING OF BEING EVIL," Jevil trailed off, drawing a single swirling finger around the canvas of spamton's belly, slithering around his middle in circles like a snake. "I WANNA SEE WHAT KIND OF GIGGLY TREASURE I CAN GET FROM THAT X!"

"NONONOHOHOHO! THAT [[parking spot]] IS [[out of commission]]! D-DOHOHON'T Y OU DAHAHAHARE!" Spamton squealed in protest. He immediately slapped his hands over his belly button to guard it from the devious clown.

"WELL THATS NOT VERY NICE!" Jevil teased, a challenging grin stretching onto his face... did Spamton really think he would only use his hands to tickle him to snorts? "GUESS WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO DO THIS THE HARD WAY... SAY, SPAMTON," the imp stretched his tail around and bent the tips of the J to tuck under the dummy's arms. "I DON'T RECALL, BUT IS THIS A TERRIBLY, TERRIBLY SENSITIVE AREA~? COOOCHIE COOCHIE COOO LITTLE ADDISON~"

"NYAHAEHAEHAEHAEHAE! YOHOHOU [[$!?!]]!" That clever move by Jevil did the trick. Spamton immediately clamped his arms down, bringing his fists up to his chest. "STYAHAHAP TEASING MEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!"

"DO YOU NOT LIKE BEING TEASED TO BITS, SPAMMY? ALSO, IF YOU WANT TO KEEP MY TAIL UNDER YOUR ARMS, BE MY GUEST! OTHERWISE, OTHERWISE YOU CAN RAISE THEM UP AND TRY YOUR LUCK! UEEHEEHEE!'' While explaining this in a playful tone, Jevil went back to swirling around the little belly pudge, getting closer and closer to the spot of buried belly laughs.

"AHEAHAEHAEHAEHAE! YOU'RE GOHOHONNAHAHA [[killed]] MEEEEHEEHEE! SNORT!" the salesman cackled, hardly able to focus enough to make any comebacks. He was losing his mind, but he wasn't ready to surrender to this fiend.

Jevil etched closer... and closer... until finally he swirled right onto the little X, before stopping entirely. Everything stopped in place, the movement under his arms, the swirling, all that was on focus was the finger sitting still on the little stitch. Jevil gave Spamton a cat-like look of mischief, not doing anything but waiting out the inevitable. "YOU KNOW WHAT? LET'S STAY LIKE THIS A MOMENT, MOMENT! YOU ENJOYIN' YOURSELF? I KNOW A GENUINE SMILE WHEN I SEE ONE~" In actuality.. Jevil was planning his ultra tickle attack in the back of his mind during this one-sided conversation before finally unleashing the mother of all tickles.

"I-pant- [[dont trust like that]]... YOU... -pant- YOUR TEASING ME AGAIN! I-pant- I ADMIT TO NOTHING!" Spamton said defiantly. Maybe he could tough it out…

"DON'T TRUST ME? WHY SPAMMY! WHAT HAVE I DONE FOR YOU NOT TO TRUST ME?!" the joker questioned, feigning innocence. Spamton knew better than to trust a literal Jester devil after tickling him half to death when they were having a fair and square battle just before! Whatever happened to that anyway!? This wasn't fair at all! Spamton was getting tired. The look the doll gave Jevil after saying that said it all.

"AW... SPAMTON, I'M HURT! HEARTBROKEN, SHOT IN THE CHEST!" Jevil overdramatized, cocking an arm over his forehead, Spamton not seeming to notice both hands were off his belly. The puppet slowly but surely caught his breath as Jevil did his theatrics, all the while giving the purple imp a look of suspicion. After a moment, Jevil smirked, bringing a single arm around Spamton's ribs in a gentle hug to keep him still. "WELL, I THINK YOU DESERVE A PRESENT FOR BEIN SUCH A GOOD SPORT, AND HAVING AN ADORABLE LIL LAUGH!"

"I-I-I-I [[shut your yaps]]! WHAT ARE Y 0U PLANNING JEVIL?" the doll inquired suspiciously, his cheeks flushed from the embarrassing compliment on top.

"I DUNNO, DUNNO! I THINK IM PLANNING ON GIVING YOU A PRESENT FOR BEING A SNORTY, FLUFFY LITTLE GIGGLEBUG!" Jevil replied, his smirk unhindered. He leaned down just a little bit, trying to be inconspicuous.

"I-I'M NOT [[soft and fluffy]]! AND DON'T CALL ME A... [[ERROR 404]]!" Spamton squeaked in response, not wanting to repeat the new nickname. He didn't know what was going through that clown's mind, but he knew it was a grand finale. That look in Jevil's eyes said it all.

The look on Spamton's face read that the jig was up. With that, Jevil suddenly shifted his face downward towards the tummy before him, giggling a little before starting to ticklishly nom on the sensitive belly with those teefers of his! "OMNYomNYOMNOM~! I KNOWM YOUWH LOWVE WHEM SHAWM DIB DISH! OMNYOMMONCHCROMCHMOOMCH!" the devil teased playfully before bringing one claw down to tease a side while nomming away like a cat on a ball of yarn.

"AAAAHAHAHAHAHAEHAEHAEHAE! OHOHO [H E A V E N] IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN'T! ICANTTAKEIT!" Spammy shrieked, shaking his head and pushing weakly at the little devil's shoulders. Tears of mirth were streaming down his rosy cheeks, and his glasses slid off his face and toppled to the side. He tossed his head back and curled forward over and over again, not knowing what to do. After 30 seconds or so, he broke.

"OHOHOHOKAAAAYEEEEHEEHEEHEE! Y 0U [[W1NNER]]! PLEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEE-SNORT-EEHEEHEASE! MEHEHERCYEEEEEHEEHEEE!"

As soon as the word was given, Jevil retracted his tail, and rose up from Spamton's tummy, letting the puppet recover from that final attack that left him breathless.

"AH... HAEHAE... HEHE... HEH... Ahhhh..." The puppet let the residual giggles bubble out of his throat while he breathed. He closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion take over. Spamton was waiting for Jevil to declare victory and kick him to the curb, back to his dumpster like the clown always did... But... He opened one of his eyes to see Jevil hovering with his legs crisscross, sitting on his tail, a genuine smile taking over his features.

"....SO?" The salesman asked, sitting up slightly to look the joker in the eye.

"SO WHAT, WHAT?" the jester replied while leaning on two fists curiously.

"AREN'T YOU GOING TO [[dispose of any used needles!]]?"

Jevil's eyes widened in realization, before his face softened into an unnaturally gentle expression.

"YOU CAN STAY HERE AS LONG AS YOU NEED, NEED! YOU DID JUST LAUGH YOUR STUFFING OUT AND ALL, " Jevil explained, magically pulling a blanket out from behind his back and tossing it to Spamton, who caught it out of surprise. The salesman really didn't know what to think of all of this... The clown had never been nice to him like this. The other boss-darkner tended to be cold behind that mischievous, playful look in his eyes... He was that one step away from freedom, blocking his only escape to the real world.. HEAVEN. ... but never had Jevil acted like this before... It almost reminded him of a family he lost long ago.

The doll looked down at the blanket in his lap. Then up at the clown.

"I... um... thank you..." Spamton was shocked enough to lose the glitches that stole his speech for just a moment. A sudden "POOF" from under his butt and a cushiony feeling alerted him to the cat bed he was now sitting in. He tried to take offense to that, but he couldn't. Instead he took the opportunity to get some sleep in a real bed...first time in a long time. He curled up, snuggled in the blanket. The salesman drifted off to sleep quickly, having not been this comfortable in so long.

Jevil hummed in content. He needed this. They both did. They were both being tortured endlessly by the game they lived in ... and them fighting all the time was tiring. In this moment they both realized how stupid it was, the endless fighting. They both understood what it was like to be thrown away, not only by society, but by the game itself. If anything they should be allies... No... friends.

Of all the things to make them see that... It was this particular fight. Jevil giggled at the prospect that something so silly may have just permanently changed how the two misfits saw each other.

And that was a wonderful thing.

#lee!spamton #spamton lee spamton #ler!jevil #deltarune tickles #tickle fanfiction #ticklish!spamton #Ohmygoshthiswassomuchfun #I needed this severely #deltarune fluff #FLUUUUUFF #[[no Spamtons were harmed in the making of this fic]]#OH LOOK THEY MADE A FIC OF US US #W-WAIT WHY DID I HAVE TO BE THE [[sacrifice]] IN THIS [[Best selling novel]]!?#CUZ I GOTS MORE LER ENERGY THAT YOU YOU #UEEHEEHEE #I RESENT TH4T [[5 pounds of balogna]] STATEMENT #Man we have to do this again... Vengeance perhaps???#Yeeeeees >:3

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