#after that spoiler the book flew by

[venus-haze]

Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you. 

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.” 

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Rindou x Reader

wc: 1200

angst, fluff

not edited

Rindou loves you. You know he does, but he has this annoying habit of not listening to you sometimes. Especially when it comes to recommendations. You recommend him food? Yeah, he'll try it. spoiler alert: he forgets. what about a movie you watched the other day and liked so much that you told him to watch it immediately? "Yeah, when I have time I will" is his answer. However, he'll only watch it if someone else recommends it too not even remembering you mentioning anything about it. And then he has the nerve to tell you all about it while you listen to him unimpressed. Sometimes it makes you feel like your opinion matters very little to him but you've never told him this. Part of you doesn't want to seem like an insecure girlfriend while the other part thinks there is no deep meaning to this.

This war in your mind ended when you entered your bedroom after having a bad day and saw Rindou sitting on the bed leaning his back on the headboard and "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" in his hands. You remember telling him how you cried reading it. However, you're surprised he's reading what you recommended. sensing your presence Rindou removed his glasses and looked at you.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted" you sit beside him "Do you like it?" you ask indicating the book.

He shrugs

"I've only read 20 pages yet. But Kakucho said it's really good"

You roll your eyes. thinking that you should've seen this coming you mumble "Of course he did" which wasn't as quiet as you expected because Rindou turned to you with a confused hum. You just shake your head as in "nothing" and try to get up but Rindou grips your arm and makes you sit back down. You sigh not having enough energy to deal with this.

"What is it?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Should I be?"

He closed the book setting it aside as he turned to me with narrowed his eyes as if sensing the trap.

"I... don't know. What did I do?"

"It's nothing Rindou, let me go"

Your words had the opposite effect as his grip tightened.

"That's not my name" His voice got low

"Uh it actually is"

"Not for you. Did I fuck up that badly?"

Now that you think about it no he didn't. It's probably you who's overreacting and creating a problem over nothing. You sound ridiculous even to you and you hate yourself.

"It's really nothing. I've just had a bad day so... I just wanna sleep"

After a moment of hesitation, Rindou let you go, his eyes following as you got changed and got in bed turning your back to him. As you lay in bed your overthinking got worse. The fact that he doesn't know what he's doing affects you this badly means that he's not doing it on purpose. But that's even worse. Does that mean that he doesn't even value your opinion enough to think about how neglecting it would affect you? Maybe he thinks you don't care about it so he doesn't too. Or maybe he just forgets. This also means he doesn't care. Every version you think about leads to you thinking he doesn't care and that feels really shitty.

On the other hand, Rindou was watching you lying silently with your back to him and he knew then he definitely did something wrong. You get in bed and do not snuggle up to him planting your head in his neck? Yes, something is terribly wrong.

"C'mon love, tell me what's wrong" he snaked his arm around your waist, and turns out this is all it took for your tears to run free. You bite your lip to stop it from trembling feeling so stupid for crying over something so trivial.

"And don't you dare to say it's nothing bec- are you crying?"

Rindou could swear he heard his heart crash. He turned you around to face him. tucking your hair behind your ear he quickly wiped your tears.

"Hey, don't cry, i- I'm sorry okay? Whatever I did, I didn't mean it just don't cry"

Even though he thought, and has told you this plenty of times, that you looked pretty when you cried, he hated when you cried. Even more, when he was the reason behind those tears.

"Talk to me please?"

Looking anywhere but at him, you opened your mouth to speak.

"It's really stupid"

"So stupid that you're crying over it? I don't care, tell me."

You don't want to.

"It's just... sometimes you don't listen to me"

Rindou was confused. You sound so crazy to him right now. He doesn't listen to you? You have him wrapped around your finger. Your word is a fucking law to him and you have the nerve to say that he doesn't listen to you? He only listens to you.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything I suggest you just forget until someone else suggests the same thing. Like-" You sniffle between speech "Like this book. You're reading it because Kakucho told you, but I told you to read it weeks ago"

The more you talk the more you want to shut up. Dreading seeing Rindou's expression you focus on your hands.

"It feels like you don't care about my opinion. It's so stupid I know..."

"I don- What?" Rindou couldn't help but exclaim. His mind processing thousands of thoughts right now. You think he doesn't care? How long have you been feeling like this? And you didn't tell him? Is there anything else you're not telling him because it's so "stupid"? "Listen, love, I'm so sorry, I didn't know- Of course, I care, Who do you think I listen to if not you? Ran? Fucker used to think Julius Caeser was named after the salad."

That made you chuckle and it was like a rainbow after the storm for Rindou. A sound he never wants to stop hearing. smiling at you he continued.

"I do listen to you okay? I remember every little detail you tell me. Starting with the shows you watch to the drama going on at your work. By the way, Rika got what she deserved, she was being the bitch first."

"That's what I'm saying" You exclaim and Rindou was so happy he could see you smiling again.

"I don't want you to doubt your value in my life okay? You're the best thing ever happened to me and I'd be a dumbass if I didn't appreciate you. And don't ever try to hide things from me again. No matter how stupid you think it is. Nothing is stupid to me when it comes to you. So no more tears, alright?"

You nod scooting closer.

"alright"

Rindou wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, kissing the crown of your head.

"By the way, I started reading this book because you suggested it. Kakuchou saw it in my car when I bought it and told me it was good"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Sleep now"

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight, love"

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

got the idea from modern family's one episode

might delete this one too later, not sure. just felt like sharing

[jessamine-rose]

⋆𖥧˚𖤣*ꕤ Viparyas ꕤ*𖤣˚𖥧⋆

Read my Yandere! Capitano fics first (´∀｀*)

Herbarium ๑ Fairytale ๑ Other fics

A long time ago, I thought of a silly Yandere! Capitano x Damsel! Darling scenario, this time featuring the Aranara. Aaand now we have yet another epilogue to their twisted fairytale xD

Thank you so much to @jymwahuwu for inspiring me to finally write this fluffy idea and @diodellet for beta-reading this <3

Tw:: yandere, captivity, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of abuse from Darling’s backstory

Note:: Fem reader who is smaller and weaker than Capitano, spoilers for previous fics

♡ 0.8k words under the cut ♡

The first and last time ______ tried to “escape” from Capitano happened during their unofficial honeymoon in Sumeru.

In all of their nature tours, she has encountered the same…forest creatures? Whatever they are, they are small. Whimsical. Quick to disappear once they sense her gaze. What’s most mysterious is that Capitano and the Fatui are unable to see them.

She stops mentioning them after the third sighting. Clinics aren’t a popular tourist spot, and their leisure time is already cut short by the real purpose of the trip, namely Capitano’s diplomatic mission. If not for her guard’s betrayal, ______ wouldn’t even be here with him.

During his diplomatic negotiations, she stays in their hotel room, unable to interact with anyone except the Fatui agents stationed all over the building. Usually, she passes the time by reading her new books. But one day, towards the end of the mission, she goes to the balcony for fresh air…and sees the forest creatures foraging in the clearing behind the hotel.

Well, it makes sense. They did book a secluded hotel in Dharma Forest.

It seems that this group is more trusting of humans, seeing how they cheerfully called out to her and flew up to the balcony. As it turns out, their species is called the Aranara, and they can only be seen by children and certain adults. They seem friendly.

They invite her to their village, with the promise of flowers and stories. Their offer is tempting, considering the weeks she has spent in constant surveillance and confusion over the Aranara. They even help her leave the hotel undetected!

Vanarana is quite nice and so are her new companions. They sing to her, tell her their stories, and even help her pick flowers. ______ is silent for the most part, but she does express her appreciation with headpats and small smiles.

They are pleasant company, really. And that is why, amidst their lighthearted interactions, ______ can’t help but think: Had she been raised in Sumeru, could she have found solace in the Aranara? If that were the case, would she have settled for Capitano’s love?

A few hours later, she decides it is time to return to her husband. So she thanks the Aranara one last time and accepts the flower crown they made for her. As she leaves Vanarana, her newly-pressed Viparyas transform into regular Padisarah.

Unfortunately, she underestimated the consequences of her actions. In less than a minute, ______ is accosted by a frantic Fatuus and escorted back to the hotel.

As it turns out, while she was enjoying the Aranara’s company, the Fatui have been searching for her all over Sumeru. Their panic only worsened when Capitano finished his meeting and began looking for her.

It has been a long time since she has feared her husband’s wrath. Despite everything they’ve been through, how can she be sure that he won’t punish her this time?

This time, her guards are stationed inside her hotel room. Soon, all of them including ______ are alerted by a familiar set of footsteps. Capitano opens the door and dismisses the guards.

The tension is unbearable. There are no harsh words, no physical violence, but it is clear that he wants answers from his wife. And a part of her feels guilty for making him worry about her safety again, moreso when he asks if he has done anything to make her feel neglected in Sumeru.

So she tells him about the Aranara. She hands over her flower crown for inspection. She swears that she won’t do it again, that she wasn’t assisted by any Fatui traitors, that she only went to Vanarana out of curiosity and not for the purpose of leaving him.

They made a promise during their honeymoon, didn’t they? That if she ever runs away, he’d capture her immediately?

She doesn’t know how to feel when her husband’s touch becomes gentle. When he apologizes for scaring her. When he says that he believes her story.

Later that night, when ______ takes out her notebook, she flips to the page of Sumeru roses she’d preserved for him. The flowers need a few more days.

The next day, they continue their travels in Sumeru. ______ stops acknowledging the Aranara apart from subtle glances. The forest spirits can only question the increase in Fatui guards, the new locks on the balcony, her husband’s tight grip around her waist.

She is also forbidden from telling anyone about her experience with the Aranara, especially Il Dottore.

✿ BONUS ✿

Fatui:: WHERE ON EARTH IS LADY ______?!! WHAT KIND OF DANGER COULD SHE BE IN?!! OH MY GOD THE CAPTAIN IS GOING TO KILL US IF WE CAN’T FIND HER!! T0T

~Meanwhile~

Aranara:: We should cheer up Sad Nara with the Taste of Happiness!! >:0

Darling:: …Thank you for the dessert.

♡

First Laurestine, now this…….how many old brainrots are going to be written now that Capitano is in the Main Story?? This drabble turned out longer than expected, but it was fun to think about Damsel bonding with the Aranara + another soft moment with Capitano + the Fatui’s panic. I think Seelies would also take a liking to her and her husband (●´ω｀●)

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @brynn-lear @zhongrin @euniveve @naraven @harmonysanreads @stickyspeckledlight @ainescribe @tylerxrbtwhp @whispereons

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Two Hearts, One Home

series masterlist

main masterlist

summary: ben hears something when he holds you close

pairing: soldier boy x female supe!reader

rating: R for language, sexual themes (?)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: pregnancy, language, spoilers for the office | mentions of/alludes to - vought torturing supe’s, sex, birth control, infertility issues and abortion

timeline: set in an au a few years after season three; this soldier boy has changed a lot personality wise, he’s a much better person then he was in season three.

author’s note: inspired by this clark kent fic by the lovely @burreaux-drys <3

another note: thinking of doing a part two because i really love how this turned out! let me know if you would like another part, cause i definitely left this fic very open ended :) there’s a part two now :)

gif source

The smell of freshly cooked bacon slowly brought Ben out of his peaceful sleep as he rolled over to pull you closer to him. His eyes flew open when he realized you weren’t sleeping next to him, but he calmed down after a moment of assuring himself you’d never just walk out on this relationship. He put on his sweatpants from the day before and left your shared bedroom.

“Is that my t-shirt?” He smiled as he walked into the kitchen.

“I figured if I was making breakfast and bringing it to you, you wouldn’t need this shirt yet,” you replied, smirking. He walked up to you and gave you a quick kiss on the lips before taking a seat at the table a few feet behind you.

“Smells delicious sweetheart,” he yawned. “But isn’t it my turn to make us breakfast? You cooked dinner last night.”

“I woke up before you and couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.” You turned around and watched as he yawned again. “God, you’re exhausted!” You walked over to him and ran your fingers through his hair as he rested his forehead on your abdomen. “Did you not fall asleep when I did?”

“Shh!” he exclaimed suddenly. He put his hands on your waist as he turned his head and pressed his ear against you.

“Ben-”

“Shut your beautiful mouth for just two seconds.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, slightly insulted.

“Sorry,” he replied quickly as he turned his head to look at you. You were met with his trademark puppy-dog-pout that always made your heart melt. “Please shut your beautiful mouth?” You rolled your eyes a little but nodded nonetheless. You knew he meant well.

He put his ear back against your abdomen then straightened up and put his ear to your chest. He went back and forth between the two a couple times without saying anything.

“Okay,” you suddenly said, getting a little freaked out. “Seriously Ben, what the hell?”

“You’re pregnant.” He looked up at you again with a huge smile. “Baby you- you’re pregnant!”

“Uh, no I’m not? And that’s not funny Ben,” you scoffed as you backed away before turning to face the stove.

“I’m not kidding! I can hear our baby’s heartbeat!” he exclaimed as he stood up.

“That’s my heartbeat, Ben,” you replied flatly. “If it sounds weird it’s just because I’m a Supe.”

“Honey, I've listened to your heartbeat every night for almost three years now, I know what it sounds like. Just like I know that right now, there are two hearts beating inside you.”

“You’re adorable.” You shook your head. You reached to take a sip of your coffee but he stopped you.

“Wait…” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t have caffeine when you’re pregnant.”

“And where the hell did you learn that?” You raised a brow. There was no way this man had read a pregnancy book ever in his life, and you doubted he learned that in school a hundred years ago.

“When Pam was pregnant on The Office, Angela said she shouldn’t even drink out of a cup that used to have regular coffee,” he replied, a smile returning to his face.

“God I love how much you love that show.” You smiled. “But I’m not pregnant, Ben and I’m really tired. Can you please let me drink my coffee?”

He shook his head, “Sorry, you’re carrying my child now. Our child. No caffeine for you, honey.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you grumbled, flipping the pancakes you’d been working on.

“I’ll finish breakfast, you sit down,” he said. He gently pulled you away from the stove before you sat down.

“Ben, this is ridiculous! I can still cook!” He ignored your protests by continuing your work in the kitchen.

The pancakes and bacon were soon finished and Ben put some on a plate for you before doing the same for himself and taking a seat at the table with you. You focused on your food as you tried to ignore Ben just staring at you. Chin resting on his knuckles, a huge smile plastered on his face, as green eyes watched your every move.

“Ben,” you sighed before looking at him. “I’m not pregnant! Would you stop acting like I’m some miracle and just eat your damn food?”

“But this is a miracle!” he protested. “I don’t think you realize how huge this is!”

“Alright, that’s it! After we eat, we’re going to the store and buying a pregnancy test. We need to run some errands anyway, we’re nearly out of food. Not to mention we’re down to next to nothing for alcohol, which is absolutely unacceptable.”

Ben knitted his brows for a moment, as if in thought, before saying, “You can’t have alcohol while you're pregnant either, right?” You jutted your jaw out in annoyance and looked at him. “Also Office; Jim and Pam’s wedding.”

**

You really should’ve opted to go to the store alone, not that Ben would’ve happily agreed, but anything was better than this. He’d been “protecting” you from quite literally everything and it was starting to drive you nuts. He wouldn’t let you drive, he insisted on pushing the cart, and when you went to reach for something that was even slightly above eye level he pulled your hand away and got it for you.

“You shouldn’t be walking down this aisle, sweetheart!” he exclaimed when you turned to enter your favorite section of Walmart. “Does this smell really not affect the baby?”

“Ben, I can be near alcohol without putting ‘the baby’ in any sort of danger,” you replied, using air quotes because you still didn’t believe you were pregnant.

He pulled you to a stop before you could actually enter the aisle. He looked into your eyes with his concern filled ones and kept his gentle grip on your upper arm.

“Promise me right now that this aisle will have no effect on the baby if you are pregnant,” he said.

“Ben, why the hell would closed liquor bottles have any effect on me or the baby?”

“The very intense smell?” he replied.

“Oh, your Supe smell! That makes more sense. Yeah, I can’t smell the alcohol unless it’s actually open, Ben. If I am pregnant, our baby won’t be affected.”

He nodded as he let go before you walked down the aisle, picking out a few drinks you liked and a few Ben liked. He followed you around the store pushing the cart, lightly scolding you every time you reached above your head or for something that looked slightly heavy.

“Oh you two are an adorable couple!” An elderly woman exclaimed, seeing Ben reaching to grab something for you.

“Thank you!” You smiled sweetly.

“How long have you two been together?” she asked. “You remind me so much of my granddaughter and her husband!”

“We’ve been dating for a little over two years now,” you replied. “How old is your granddaughter?”

“She’s pregnant!” Ben informed the woman, who then smiled widely. Before she could congratulate the two of you, Ben exclaimed; “We weren’t even trying or anything, but I got her pregnant! My super sperm just whoosh! Right through the birth control!” Your eyes widened.

“Oh god! I’m sorry!” you called out as the woman hurried away seeming horrified.

You turned to Ben, a shit-eating smile on his face. He was practically glowing with pride.

“What?” he asked, noticing your very unamused look.

“One, why did you feel the need to traumatize that poor lady? And two, I am not pregnant!”

“One, sex is a part of life, she’s not traumatized. And two, stop saying that! How can you be so positive that you aren’t pregnant?”

“Because there’s just no way Ben,” you sighed. He stayed looking at you, a confused look washing over his features. “After all the experiments with Vought, there’s just no way I can be pregnant, Ben.” His smile faded as a sad one found it’s way to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Well…maybe I really do have super sperm?” he suggested, slightly smiling again.

“Ben I’m being serious.” You shook your head a little. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Okay, I won’t,” he lied. He bent down and kissed you sweetly. “Let’s go get you that pregnancy test though, because if you really aren’t pregnant then I’m afraid you might have two hearts.”

“I love you,” you laughed a little.

“I love you too,” he replied.

When you reached the pregnancy test section, unfortunately the most trusted brand was ‘too high up on the shelf’ so, of course, Ben grabbed it.

“Uh, could you grab two?” you asked after he tossed one into the cart. Ben furrowed his brows a little. “These tests aren’t always accurate, if we want to be sure we should get two.”

“Wait, these tests aren’t accurate?”

“Not always,” You shrugged a little.

“Then we need way more than two!” he exclaimed. He proceeded to grab about ten-or-so more, tossing them all into the cart.

“Yeah that’s a little overkill,” you laughed. “We need three at most.”

“We’re both Supes, we need as many positive pregnancy tests as possible!”

“Okay, well now this cart makes us look like we’re boycotting Trojan. Besides, I can't pee ten times today!”

“You can take some today, some tomorrow; just drink lots of water!”

“Or we could just do the normal thing and I could see a doctor?”

“Hun…you know we can’t,” Ben sighed. He walked around the cart so he could hold you, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you to lean on his chest. He rested his head on yours as he continued very quietly, “If you are pregnant you…you’re a Supe pregnant with another Supe’s baby, that’s not something they’ll just let slide. Who knows what those monsters might do if they find out.”

“Right,” you breathed. “Fine, I’ll take a ridiculous amount of pregnancy tests.”

“Thank you!” He grinned.

**

“Alright,” you said as you held up the first unused pregnancy test, about to head into the bathroom, “here goes nothing.”

“Honey, wait.” Ben stopped you. “Do…Do you want to be pregnant?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged a little. You weren’t sure, really. You’d always assumed you couldn’t have kids so you hadn’t given it much thought.

“You don’t have to take the test,” he said, brows knitted with concern. “We- We can just pretend I never heard the heartbeat and maybe it’ll just…go away.”

“Ben-”

“I want to have kids with you. I really, really fucking do! But I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything! If you don’t want this baby, just…just say the word.”

“Ben, I want kids with you too.” You smiled, taking his hand in your empty one. “I really do! There’s just no way anything down there is working like it should! I mean if Vought didn’t fuck me up, being exposed to your radiation for so long definitely did.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, his expression growing even more sad. “But…I’m clean now, I- I mean the radiation’s all gone?”

“I know, and I’m not blaming you for one second Ben, it’s all Vought,” you replied quickly. “However, if by some miracle I am pregnant I’ll be fucking thrilled! I just don’t want you to be disappointed; you seem really excited about this and I’m worried about what’s gonna happen when I walk back out and this test is negative.”

“If it turns out you really aren’t pregnant, nothing’s gonna change between us! I mean, I’ll definitely get my hearing checked out and maybe you should get your heart looked at, but after that we’ll go back to bacon, burgers, and booze!”

You let out a laugh. God, you loved the man standing in front of you.

“Okay.” You smiled.

“I love you,” he said before kissing you. “Now get in there and pee!”

“I love you!” you exclaimed before walking into the bathroom.

**

Three hours and five pregnancy tests later (yes, definitely overkill, but you both wanted to be sure), you stood with Ben in the bathroom and stared at the results sitting on the counter. One negative, four positives. And yet, there was still a part of you that wouldn’t let yourself believe it was true.

You heard Ben laughing a little so you looked at him through the mirror.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed. “You’re pregnant!” You smiled as you watched tears of joy begin to fall down his face. “You- Fuck! We’re gonna have a baby!?” He took your face in his hands and kissed you before quite literally falling to his knees.

“Ben?” you asked, a little concerned.

“I love you so fucking much!” he looked up at you. He sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your abdomen against his face. “Hello little guy!” He mumbled against you.

“Or girl!” you corrected. “Or non-binary person!”

“I was using ‘guy’ as an umbrella term,” he replied, not moving, your heart swelling with pride. “That’s why I didn’t say ‘boy’.”

“I love you,” you laughed a little.

“Hear that little one? Your mommy loves me!” He still spoke to your stomach.

You couldn’t help the tears streaming down your face at this point, you were so happy to see him this excited. You felt the fear you had about this pregnancy, albeit temporarily, wash away and be replaced with pure joy.

**

Ben was staring at the computer getting more and more frustrated with himself with each passing second.

“God-fuckin’-damnit!” he mumbled, putting his face in his hands.

“Ben? What’s wrong?”

“I thought you were asleep?” He looked up at you, suddenly very worried. “Are you okay? Is it something with the baby?” You let out a soft laugh as you placed a kiss on the crown of his head.

“I’m fine Ben,” you mumbled into his hair. “Why’re you still up? I thought you were coming to bed after your shower?”

“Well, while I was in the shower I realized I know absolutely nothing about how to take care of you or a baby so I figured I should order some books but I can’t navigate this fucking website!”

“Can I help?” you asked, taking a seat on his lap after he nodded. “What books were you thinking? Any specific ones? Or just pregnancy books in general?”

“Just books in general,” he replied. He snaked his arms around you, gently securing your back against his chest.

“You know…I really should see a doctor soon to be sure our baby’s okay,” you said as you searched through Amazon’s selection of books.

“I know,” he sighed. “Is it alright if I ask Hughie to find a trustworthy doctor that won’t rat us out?”

“That’d be perfect, Ben.”

Part 2

[bluesylveon2]

Ortho vs a Teenage Girl and a 5-year-old Prince

Summary: When Ortho's hard work of trying to set up the Prefect with his brother is about to go down the drain by two kids. Disaster ensues! initial post

Notes: This is my first time writng for Twisted Wonderland so I hope that you enjoy! I used Yuu but this can be read as a x Reader too! Yuu/reader is a female!

Word Count: 4835

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

Warnings: possible ooc characters, not beta read, slight book 6 spoilers, references to the yasamina and sunset savanna events, irl references, Lilia wanting to be a grandpa, and some alcohol mentioned (Papa Crewel drinking wine)

Edit 7/31: sequel announcement post here! Now with Lilia vs Eric Venue, Marja, and Dylla!!

Family Day is the one day in Night Raven College when families are invited to tour the campus or visit their loved ones. The event itself was big since most students come from well-off families. However, sometimes some parents were too busy to show up, which was okay. One example is Idia and Ortho's parents. Both siblings didn't mind them not showing up. Idia preferred playing video games in his room but not Ortho. Ortho had a different plan involving the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu. The Prefect has to be the toughest girl Ortho has ever met. Ortho has never met a girl who can defeat six overblots (one of them was his brother), wrangle a cat monster, and deal with Crowley's (bs) demanding jobs. 

Now Ortho was not dumb. He might be more human-like, but he could sense how much his brother's heart races when the Prefect talks to him or how his hair turns slightly pink when they play video games together. Ortho thinks Idia's feelings towards the Prefect grew after she and a few others broke into the Island of Woe to save their friends. Sadly, Idia has never acted on his feelings and prefers to stay on the sidelines and admire Yuu from afar. 

On the other hand, Ortho was not having it. He can see just how happy his brother is around Yuu. Plus, Ortho would gladly accept her as his sister-in-law. It's like hitting two birds with one stone!

Ortho made it his mission to mention his brother whenever he hung out with the Prefect. It can range from "Big Brother made a new invention" or "Big Brother wants to play a new game with you!" If Ortho can have some of Idia's friends play video games with him, he can surely set Yuu up with his brother. 

Of course, the Fates must have heard him and introduced two rivals during the school's annual Family Day. 

Who are his rivals? A teenage girl and a 5-year-old prince. 

---

Rival 1: Najma Viper

Ortho hummed as he glided down the hall of different families, searching for the Prefect. Luckily he had the whole day to put his plan in motion since his parents could not attend today's event, and Idia stayed in his room. According to Ace, who took Grim so they could prank his older brother, Yuu was handling different errands assigned by Crowley for Family Day. What would be the perfect way to spend Family Day with a (potential) sister by helping her and inviting her over to hang out with his Big Brother?

Ortho turned around a corner but stopped when he saw the Prefect occupied with a young girl. He moved closer to get a better look. 

"Jamil is very talented. He is smart, can cook, sing, and is a great dancer! You should see how happy he gets when he dances. He is the perfect guy!" The girl exclaimed with excitement in her eyes. 

Ortho froze. Jamil? The perfect guy? What in the Twisted Wonderland was going on here? He had a bad feeling about this. 

"He would be a great boyfriend for you. You should've seen how he kept staring at you when you visited the Scalding Sands," the girl adds, causing Yuu to blush. 

Ortho felt as if Tartarus froze over. "NO!" He suddenly yelled and flew out of his hiding spot.

Yuu and the other girl turn to Ortho. 

"No?" 

"I mean, no way! Jamil is so cool!" Ortho said in an attempt to save himself. Yuu and the girl both smile, causing Ortho to kick himself internally. He should be hyping his brother up, not Jamil! Ortho turned to the other girl. "I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. Hi, I'm Ortho Shroud, a first-year, and Yuu's friend," he extended a hand to her. 

The girl shook his hand and had a pleasant smile on her face. "Hi Ortho, I'm Jamil's sister, Najma." Najma seemed kind, but Ortho was not buying it. If Ortho knew anything about Jamil, Najma must be good at hiding her true feelings. "Say, Ortho, since you seem to know my brother, would you agree that he is talented?"

"I guess I can agree with you there," Ortho said while reflecting on Jamil's performance at the VDC.

Najma's eyes furrow slightly, "You guess?" She turned to Yuu, "What do you think, Yuu? Don't you think that he is talented? Or handsome? Or both?" she smirked.

Yuu hesitantly laughed, "Well-" her eyes scanned the hall until she spotted a familiar mop of white hair. "Kalim!"

Kalim turned to the trio and smiled brightly, "Yuu! Najma! Ortho! What are you all doing here?"

"Just catching up," Najma replied instantly and turned to Kalim with a devious look, "Say, Kalim, what do you think are my brother's best features?

Kalim hummed in thought before responding. "Well, he is a good dancer, can cook, and is very strong! He once told me he is as strong as ten men!" 

"Whoa," Yuu replied with awe, and Najma smiled proudly. 

"Give Big Brother a day, and he can be stronger than one hundred men with an invention," Ortho muttered. The others were too busy to notice Ortho float off to search for his brother. Jamil may be talented, but his Big Brother is that and more! He had to drag him out of his room first to show it. 

Ortho was at the Mirror Chamber when he noticed someone enter from Scarabia's door. He saw the frantic look on Jamil's face and made his way to him.

"Jamil! How are you?'

"Fine," the boy replied, searching the room for something or someone.

"Are you looking for someone?" Ortho asked and innocently tilted his head to the side. 

"In fact, yes. I'm looking for Kalim and my little sister, Najma. She looks a little bit like me but shorter."

"Oh, that was your sister! I saw her with Kalim earlier! They were talking to Yuu, nearby one of the first-year classrooms. I can lead the way for you if you want." Vil would be proud of his acting skills if he could see him now.

"Great Sevens, those two," Jamil sighed out of relief. "Please."

The two trek through the school with Orthro leading. Jamil could not see the glee in the boy's eyes. If he removed Najma from the picture, he could have Yuu all to himself and use the time to praise his Big Brother! Ortho mentally high-fives himself for the genius plan.

"Jamil is also really good at basketball. You should have seen when he made the winning shot against RSA," Kalim's voice echoed, causing Jamil to walk faster. 

"NAJMA! KALIM!" Jamil called out once they were in his sight. "Stop annoying the Prefect. We need to get back to Scarabia for the party."

Najma's face lights up with an idea, "We can invite Yuu!"

Jamil rolled his eyes and grabbed the two by the back of their shirts, "No, this party is for both our parents and Kalim's siblings. We will be late if we do not leave right now." Jamil stopped his scolding and turned to Yuu. "I'm so sorry about them, Prefect. I don't want them to interrupt your day."

Yuu laughed, "It's alright. They were telling me some things about you."

Jamil's eyes widen in horror, "WHAT?" 

"I didn't know you once faced a hundred bad guys with swords before."

Jamil turned to the duo in his hands, then Yuu, then back at them again. His face became red as Riddle's hair as the seconds passed, "We are leaving!"

"But Jamil!" Kalim and Najma whine.

"NO BUTS! We are leaving before you feed Yuu more lies," He dragged the two down the hall and back to Scarabia.

"None of that were lies though!" Kalim's voice echoed.

"I've see the way you look at her and it is sad to watch. You needed the help anyway!" Najma added.

"No, I don't!" Jamil replied. The trio's voices became quieter until they were out of sight. 

Ortho and Yuu stood in silence. After some time passed, Ortho glanced over at Yuu.

"Big Sister, based on the changes in your heart, I can tell you are feeling sad. Is something wrong?" Ortho asked and noticed the sad look on the Prefect's face. The Prefect's eyes widen from getting caught. 

"Yeah. It's just…watching Jamil and Najma interact reminds me of my younger siblings back home. Sometimes I feel lonely watching everyone interact with their families." 

"How many siblings do you have?'

"A younger brother and a younger sister. You know, Ortho, you remind me of my little brother." Yuu smiled and ruffled Ortho's hair. Ortho's eyes became bright with joy.

"Thank you, Big Sister. You might feel lonely now, but most people here consider you family. For example, Ace and Deuce."

Yuu laughed, the corners of her mouth turning upward slightly. "They are like brothers to me, always getting into trouble but loveable at the same time."

"See!"

"I can't forget the Ramshackle ghosts, the rest of the Heartslabyul guys, and the professors!"

"Yeah, so you may miss your family sad, but you still have people around you who consider you their own. You won't be lonely until Crowley finds you a way home!"

Yuu smiled, "You're right, Ortho. Come here." she opened her arms to him in a hug that Ortho immediately flew to. "Thank you, Ortho, for cheering me up." She lets go of the boy and looks around the hallway. "By the way, where is Idia? I haven't seen him all day."

"Oh!" Ortho replied, unaware of the pitter-patter of the child's feet getting louder and louder. "He wanted me to tell you about the new Star Rogue game that just came out. Big Brother wants you to"

"Auntie Yuu!"

----

Rival 2: Cheka Kingscholar

Ortho wished that kicking a 5-year-old kid across the island would not be a high-risk thing to do. His parents had already dealt with the damage caused by him and his big brother on the Island of Woe. The last thing his parents need is to deal with the royal family of Sunset Savanna.

Still, Ortho has got to be one of the few people who can say one of his rivals is a kindergartener. A child, for crying out loud! An annoying child who has been clinging to the Prefect, talking her ear off about how great his Unca Leona is, and is using his big brown eyes (that reminded Ortho of the toddler's eyes from a popular babysitter's anime Idia loves) to increase his cuteness by 100%.

"Give me five seconds, and I can increase my cuteness by 1000%. Big Brother recently installed a program to do that," Ortho muttered to himself while glaring at the newest addition to the group. He could use that feature to his advantage. Still, the child will not give him the opportunity by choosing to wrap himself around her waist and staying there like a koala. 

"Cheka! What are you doing here, and where are your attendants? Yuu frantically asked and looked around for them. The last thing she wanted to do was get on the royal family's bad side. 

"I couldn't wait to see you, Auntie, so I left them all behind! Hee hee!"

Yuu's mouth opened from shock. "we need to find them right away!"

Cheka didn't share the same feelings as Yuu and instead just laughed it off, "We could find Unca instead. Did you know that he is very cool and strong? He has so many friends that we all played together once. He even made me fly!"

Yuu could only respond in a confused tone. Ortho felt his patience run thin from the young prince. 

"I'm sorry, Prince Cheka, but Yuu is busy right now." Ortho tried to pry the cub off Yuu, but Cheka refused to let go. He could try to use more force, but it can lead to a torn uniform and an unhappy Professor Crewel. 

Ortho's words fly past Cheka's ears, "Not now! This is an emergency!" the young prince turned and glared at Ortho.

Oh, he is going down! Give him a few seconds, and he could blast the child out of existence!

"An emergency?" Yuu asked, unaware of Ortho's hair looking Idia's when he gets angry. 

"You must marry my Unca because he loves you and wants to be with you forever!"

Yuu laughed and moved her arms around to carry Cheka, "Did your Uncle tell you that?" she asked while imaging the grumpy lion down on one knee and asking her to marry him. 

Cheka nodded his head so fast. "Of course! He wants you to be his princess! If you marry him, then you can be my Auntie. Then we can all spend each day playing!"

Ortho, who was starting to get annoyed, immediately butted in, "Big Sister! If you do that, then your other family will miss you! Big Brother will miss you too!"

Cheka glared at Ortho again. He turned to Yuu and increased his cuteness by pouting his lips, "Unca Leona loves you, Auntie! He can die from heartbreak if you're not with him!"

Ortho rolled his eyes, "Your uncle won't die."

"You don't know that! You're the only one who can make him happy! Auntie, Unca Leona is so sad without you! We can't let Unca cry!"

Yuu hesitantly laughed, "I'm pretty sure your Uncle has other things that make him happy."

"But would you consider marrying him to make him happier?" Cheka asks, his eyes glistening with tears. Ortho rolled his eyes again. 

"I think we are too young to get married?"

"In the future, then?"

Ortho had enough. "That's it! Prince Cheka, Big Sister is busy right now, and she needs to go." He flew over and grabbed one of Yuu's arms to pull her away. 

Cheka leaped out of Yuu's remaining arm and grabbed it to pull, "No, she is going with me!"

"No, she needs to see my big brother!" pull.

"No, she must see my Unca! He will cry if he never sees her." pull.

"He. Will. Not. Die!" pull.

"Well, I bet my Unca is cooler than your brother. He can drive his car through land and sea*!" pull.

"Oh yeah? Well, my brother can take apart a blastcycle, customize it with a functional value, AND drive it!" pull.

"Oh yeah? My brother can fly a flying carpet! That takes a lot of skill to master." Najma added, materializing out of nowhere after she escaped from her brother. She pulled Ortho and Cheka's hands off of Yuu and glared at them.

Ortho groaned, "Not you again!"

The three began to argue about which of their family members was better and left Yuu off to the side.  

Yuu's arms were now sore from all the pulling, and she could feel a headache forming. Despite this, Yuu could not stop a small smile from forming on her face. She blinked once and saw her younger siblings arguing instead of her friends. The argument was both cute and an annoying thing to watch. 

 "ENOUGH!" Yuu yelled, causing everyone to stop arguing. "You all need to stop arguing because it is not helping me pick a side."

"Exactly. You three are causing a ruckus on school grounds," A stern voice added. Everyone turned around to find Professor Crewel glaring at them. Najma and Cheka tremble from the professor's gaze. "You pups need to apologize to Yuu for the incoming headache and disrupting the school."

Ortho, Najma, and Cheka give each other a look and nod, "We're sorry, Big Sister/Yuu/Auntie."

Yuu smiled, kneeled, and opened her arms for a hug. "I forgive you," she says, and the three children join in on the group hug. Crewel smiled at the sight before clearing his throat to get their attention.

"Yuu, can you help me sort the potions in my office?" He asked and tapped his pointer three times against his palm. 

"Of course," she stood up. "You three be good now," Yuu ruffled the children's hair and headed towards Crewel's office. 

Crewel turned towards Ortho, "Shroud. I want you to bring these two back to their respective dorms. You can help guide them back."

Ortho sighed, "Yes sir," he replied, looked at the other two, and flew off towards the Mirror Chamber. "My brother is the coolest, though," he whispered to himself, but Cheka, having enhanced hearing, heard it all.

"My Unca is cooler plus 100."

Najma rolled her eyes, "You mean times 100? Anyways, my brother is cooler times 1000."

The three could not help the laugh escaping their lips. They will cease fire for now. The winner can be chosen another day. 

----

"-uu. Yuu." Crewel called out and shook Yuu's body to wake her up. 

Yuu groaned but opened her eyes to the bright light of Crewel's office. Her body was on his red leather couch, Grim snuggled beside her, and his thick coat acted as her blanket. 

"You need to wake up. The sun has already set, and I want you to get some sleep tonight," Crewel said softly and stood up to walk to his desk. The campus sounded quiet except for the crickets chirping outside. 

Ah, so Family Day is over. 

"When did Grim show up?" Yuu asks through a yawn. She sits up, picks up Grim, and places him on her lap.

"About an hour ago. He was already knocked out when Trappola brought him here," Crewel picked up a neatly wrapped box on his desk and walked back to the Prefect. "These are for you." Yuu grabbed the box and immediately opened it. Inside was an assortment of cookies and chocolates that looked too expensive for Yuu. "Since your actual family is not here for Family Day, I wanted to give you this to celebrate it. Feel free to share it with your friends,"

Yuu could feel tears forming. She used to feel alone after she crashed the entrance ceremony, but not anymore. Yuu now has people who love her despite the possibility of her leaving. She appreciates all he does as someone she views as a father figure in Twisted Wonderland. Crewel's gift may not be as grand as her whole family showing up, but the small things count. 

"Thank you so much," she placed Grim and the gift down and stood up to hug the man. 

Crewel smiled, "You're welcome, Yuu." he pulled away. "Now get some rest, or else you might give the Pomefiore students a heart attack if you show up with eyebags."

Yuu laughed, "Of course," she grabbed Grim, the box, and headed out the door. Yuu smiled at her memories from today as she walked back to Ramshackle. She enjoyed reuniting with Najma and Cheka despite their arguing with Ortho over who she should hang out with. 

Why were they so persistent about it? Yuu thought to herself when it suddenly hit her.

"I forgot about Idia!" Yuu exclaimed. Her movement caused Grim to mumble something in his sleep. Yuu tucked Grim over her shoulder and ran toward the Mirror Chamber when she saw the guy in question heading her way. 

"Idia!" Yuu called out with glee. It had been a long day for her, so seeing him made her smile. "Where have you been all day? I wanted to hang out with you."

Idia blushed and started sweating, "Y-you did? I was in my room since my parents did not show up today. I was actuallywaitingonyousowecouldplaythisnewgametogether." Idia mumbled the last part so fast that Yuu could not understand it. 

"I'm sorry. I missed the last part?" 

"I said I was waiting for you to play the new Star Rogue together. I asked Ortho to get you, but he returned without you."

Yuu laughed nervously, "Ah, that. Yeah, a lot of stuff happened, and Ortho was busy." She replied, unaware of Idia's increasing heartbeat caused by the Prefect's adorable laugh. 

Idia imagined there was a meter beside him, and it kept growing every time the Prefect did something cute (read: that is a lot of things). There's a limit that could cause it to explode. 

Idia avoided Yuu's stare by looking at the fancy box in the girl's hands. His eyes lit up in excitement. "Where did you get the sweets from?"

Yuu smiled. "Professor Crewel!" Saying his name made his earlier words replay in her mind. Suddenly, her face lit up like she had an idea. "Hey, Idia. Why don't you and Ortho come over to Rhamshakle for a sleepover? We can play Star Rogue and eat these sweets together."

Cue the meter beside Idia, exploding into a million pieces. Now Idia was red, frozen, and unsure about what to do. 

Yuu waved a hand across Idia's face. "Hey, are you okay?"

"YES!" Idia squeaked out and cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah. I don't mind having a sleepover at Ramshackle tonight."

Yuu squealed from excitement. "Yay!" She jumped with glee. Suddenly, she tucked the candy box under one arm, used her other arm to grab Idia's shoulder, and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. 

Idia.exe has stopped working. Oh yeah, Idia was VERY red now, and his hair turned a bright shade of pink. 

Is this how the MC feels when they get kissed by a love interest? Idia thought to himself like he was in an otome game. He could see the intimacy meter between him and Yuu go up.

"I'm so excited! I will go ahead and set up the lounge. You can grab Ortho and whatever else we need for the sleepover. We can meet up in my dorm after we get everything."

"S-s-sounds good," Idia gave a tiny thumbs up, which was the best he could do then. 

"See you then!" Yuu called out and headed back towards Ramshackle with a pep in her step. Once Yuu was out of sight, Idia pulled out his tablet to connect to Ortho. 

"Hello, Big Brother! Do you need something?" 

Idia could not articulate anything. First, his crush invited him to her dorm, and then she kissed him. The Prefecf actually KISSED HIM on the cheek. 

"THEPREFECTKISSEDME!!" 

"What? Did you say that Big Sister kissed you?"

"Just on the cheek, but it still counts! The UR character actually took an interest in boring old me! Ortho, I need you to get things for our sleepover with the Prefect…."

Ortho chose to not listen to his brother rambling. All he could hear was that he was victorious. 

"Oh, Big Brother," Ortho smiled after Idia was done. "I am so happy for you."

Score: Ortho: +1, Najma: 0, Cheka: 0

----

Earlier in Savanaclaw: 

"UNCA!!!!" Cheka yelled as he barged into Leona's room, left the door open, and pounced on Leona's stomach. Leona let out an 'oof' and glared at his nephew. He sat up, let his blankets fall, and allowed Cheka to sit on his lap.

"Why are you in my room? You're interrupting my nap." 

"You need to marry Yuu, or you could die!" Cheka exclaimed while jumping on Leona's body.

Leona rolled his eyes, "I will not die, kid."

Cheka stopped jumping and leaned toward Leona's face, "You don't know that, so you need my help to impress her!"

Leona pushed Cheka's face away, "Look, furball, I do not need any help to impress Yuu. She can take one look at me and realize that is all she needs." Leona was too prideful to say it aloud, but he grew to like the herbivore. Has she been clueless to him affections her? Yes but he refuses to ask his nephew, of all people, for help.

Cheka blinked and stared at his uncle's face, "You need more than that, Unca!"

Leona groaned in annoyance. Cheka was too stubborn not to give up, and Leona was tired. Leona contemplated his next step when he heard familiar footsteps approaching his door. 

Ah, it is about time for Ruggie to come to pick up his laundry. 

"Hey, Leona! You better have your laundry somewhat neat." His voice called out, slowly getting louder as he got closer.

Leona grabbed the back of Cheka's shirt, "Hey Cheka, I'll let you help me if we play a game first."

Cheka's eyes lite up in glee, "Oh! What game?"

As Ruggie walked into Leona's doorway, Leona picked up Cheka and threw him at Ruggie's face.

"What the" Ruggie exclaimed and managed to catch the laughing Cheka. Leona quickly jumped up and walked to his balcony. 

"I'll leave him to you. Don't go looking for me." Leona called back. 

"Hey!" Ruggie runs after him, but it is too late. Leona already jumped off and gracefully landed on the ground. He walked out, leaving Ruggie and Cheka alone in the dorm room.

Cheka turned to Ruggie with a bright grin, "Let's do it again!"

Ruggie could only sigh. This will be a long day.

Bonus: 

"Father, when you said there was an emergency, I did not think makeup would be the reason." Silver's legs started to feel numb as Lilia rubbed some eyeshadow on his eyelids. Earlier, Lilia was adding different makeup powders to the boy's face, so he had to resist the urge to sneeze. 

"Hush, Silver! Master Lilia requires us to sit here for hours getting for…what is it for actually?" Sebek's face contoured in confusion despite his eyes being closed for his eyeshadow. 

"Fufufu the Prefect needs to be starstruck by your looks that she will say yes if either of you asks for her hand in marriage."

"MARRIAGE?!" Silver and Sebek exclaimed at the same time, their eyes opening wide. Sebek's scream caused some of the photos on Malleus' wall to shake. 

"Hush, you two. You will ruin the hard work I spent hours on." Lilia replied and threw some glitter at his son's faces as a finishing touch. Malleus opened his eyes and glanced at Lilia.

"I understand why you want to dress up and use makeup to impress the Child of Man, but are three people required for this?" 

"Of course! The more people, the better, and I need only one of you to succeed. Now look at yourselves." Lilia stepped away so the trio could look at themselves in the mirror. "Do you or do you not feel bonita?"

The trio gave each other a confused look. None of them heard of that word before. Lilia may have picked up some of Rook's weird language.

"We feel bonita?" They replied, sounding more like a question than a statement. Lilia clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. He heard about the multitude of people with similar goals as him. He needed to act fast, or else it would be too late. If there's one thing the fae learned from his gamer friend, Gloomurai, is that otome games have multiple suitors for the MC. From Lilia's perspective, throwing all three of his sons into the competition for Yuu's heart would lead to a good ending for him. Lilia finished his plan by walking over to the vanity and handing them all a ring box. 

"Wonderful because you look bonita!" Despite his small stature, the man stood behind his sons and pushed them out the door. "Now go and woo the Prefect! Don't return until I see a ring on her finger and a promise of future grandchildren!" Lilia called out before slamming the door in their faces. 

The trio stared silently at the door, trying to understand what had happened. Luckily, Malleus decided to break the awkward atmosphere.

"Now what?"

Additional Rivals: Malleus, Silver, and Sebek

---

Professor Crewel cannot believe he is saying this, but he understands Professor Trein's stress in raising children. Who knew that caring for (more like adopting) a magicless human would attract so many mutts to her? Crewel had to admit that his daughter was beautiful (thanks to his hard work), but couldn't it have been from someone who was not as horrible as them? The man could only count a few decent guys with one hand, but they were not enough for his pup. His pup deserved the best. 

Crewel sat on his sofa and snacked some crackers topped with raisin butter. Earlier, he had to save his pup from a group of children using their secret code. Then, he saw the older Shroud boy speak to his daughter as she walked back to Ramshackle.

The man sighed. He opened his wine fridge to grab a bottle of red wine, a glass from the cabinet behind him, and poured himself a drink. Whoever his pup picks better be the right one for her. Until then, he will watch the lovesick mutts fight each other for her attention. Crewel swirled the red wine around and drank it all in one go. He could feel the stress already forming from the imaginary image of the mutts fighting on school property, Crowley barging into classrooms, and the overblots were already making a dent in the school's budget. Teenage boys and property damage would make it even worse. 

Crewel eyed the bottle one more time before making a decision. He may need a stronger drink. 

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2. Do not modify or republish

Sorry for the wait but the fic is now here! I hope that yall enjoyed it :)

* - the "sea" Cheka is referring to is a giant puddle Leona drove through during his Sunset Savanna event card vignette

Taglist: @nanograms, @krispyenthusiastkitten, @strawberrycaramelcapybara, @mochiclouds, @kitty-page, @fancyhawk45, @xxoomiii, @kiyoyachisimp, @arisdelssy, @rainbowcake1212, @forgwater, @justyoureverydaytwstsimp, @savanaclaw1996, @shrimpsterprefect, @that-creepy-girl-000, @penguinmilo, @tingerines, @julessketchbook, @i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy, @booming-spam, @nekanecorvus, @glacticrose, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @imakeeggswet, @hatshroom, @lunarapple, @simp-simp-no-mi, @the-hearteater, @aroseyhyena, @vitaniangel-blog, @nxyll34, @everettelz

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Summary: Saiki tries to get chocolate and to see a movie without spoilers, and neither goes well.

            Saiki arrived at school with zero interest in the chocolate that Toritsuka was so excited over receiving for Valentine’s Day. Sure, he liked sweets and knew people could give them as thanks and platonically, but he didn’t want the hassle of having anyone mean it romantically.

            “Good morning, Saiki!” greeted (Y/N) cheerfully. They were slightly nervous thar morning. It was clear why. Inside their bag, which Saiki could see through easily, were wrapped sweets. Valentine’s Day gifts.

            Saiki nodded to them in greeting. All his previous distaste for the holiday flew out the window at seeing them. Those feelings were slightly different when it came to (Y/N). Saiki wouldn’t mind (in fact, he wanted) chocolate from them since sweets they gave/bought him were always nice (and, obviously, it was just friendship, so he had no worries, nothing had at all, everything was normal).

            His mood was dampened somewhat when he spied the gifts on their own desk, but he simply sat down next to them. Hopefully, their chocolate was for him (he just wanted sweet treats, and they were always best when they came from (Y/N)), and they’d have a chance to give it to him. However…

            “Have you heard? Teruhashi brought chocolates for someone!” announced a boy.

            Saiki nearly groaned. Once again, Teruhashi’s strange interest in him was causing problems. She was planning to give him her chocolates, and that would cause him to be the target of the other boys’ wrath. He would have to avoid her outside of classes today. And that meant…he wouldn’t be around (Y/N). He wouldn’t get any sweet treats from them.

            There is no God…

            Saiki was forced to sit through class after class while listening to Teruhashi and all the boys’ thoughts. All the while, (Y/N) hadn’t made a move to give anyone their chocolates. That, at least, gave Saiki some relief. Obviously, he wanted the sweets, and it would be a disappointment if the chocolate went to someone else since he wouldn’t have anything nice to eat. That would be the disappointment.

            After school ends, I’ll give these to Saiki! He’ll be so stunned by the perfect pretty girl thanking him—

            Saiki’s thoughts were interrupted by Teruhashi’s plotting.

            Thanking me for what?

            —And he’ll say “Oh, wow!”

            Yare yare.

            The teacher dismissed the students. Quickly, Saiki speed-walked out of the building and around the corner before anyone could catch him. He could hear Teruhashi’s thoughts from above him as her fans tried to get in her good graces. They wanted to receive her chocolates, and she had hidden in the bathroom.

            These are my only courtesy chocolates… If those guys outside find out that I gave them to Saiki…he’ll definitely be…! Teruhashi pictured Saiki beaten up by thugs. No, not only that. A World War will break out! O-Oh, no! To think that my chocolates are the most dangerous weapon known to man! I can’t give this to him at all! She opened the bathroom window and tossed the chocolates out. I’m sorry, Saiki!

            The gift dropped next to Saiki in the grass.

            Yare yare. That’s a tad overdramatic. He reached out and placed his hand on the chocolates. Easily, he teleported it to Hairo’s bags of sweets. It would blend in there and not go to waste. Saiki couldn’t eat them. Even his sweet tooth was subject to his emotions. He wanted only (Y/N)’s chocolate on Valentine’s Day because…Well, because they were the only person he could truly admit he had a connection—friendship—with. Saiki stood up and walked towards the school entrance. Now that the situation was fixed, he could leave without being chased by Teruhashi. He rounded the corner and paused in surprise.

            (Y/N) was sitting on the curb at the gates, swinging their legs idly. The sun shone down on them, giving them a glow akin to Teruhashi.

            Oh, wow.

            A small voice in Saiki’s mind whispered the two forbidden words, and he cleared them away immediately as (Y/N) turned and saw him walking towards them.

            “Saiki!” They beamed. “I’ve been waiting!”

            “You waited for me?” It was…sweet. He liked the warm feeling it brough to his chest.

            “Of course!” (Y/N) answered as if it was obvious. “I’ve got something for you!”

            So it was for me. Saiki was glad.

            They brought out their chocolates from their bag. “Here you go! For being such a wonderful friend!” And the one I like. But I can’t tell you that.

            Ever since their realization, they’d battled their feelings and come to the conclusion that they’d just be a good friend to Saiki at most. They wouldn’t cross his boundaries since he didn’t seem to like anyone having a crush on him. (Y/N) would just be his friend. It…hurt a little, but they wouldn’t give up a good friendship for a ruined attempt at romance. (Y/N) valued Saiki as a friend as much as anything else.

            Saiki blinked and took the gift. “Thank you very much.” He was constantly blunt, but somehow, those words felt more truthful to his heart than any others he had spoken in his life.

l

            (Y/N) skipped towards the move theater happily. They were excited to see the Specializer: Live Action movie. They were more delighted when they spied Saiki entering the cinema.

            “Saiki!” They waved to him. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

            “I’m a teenager at the movie theater.” Saiki was being sarcastic as usual, but (Y/N) was right, he didn’t go to the cinema anymore. His telepathy caused too much trouble. Now, however…he had his very own germanium ring. Saiki didn’t have to hear people’s thoughts anymore. He wouldn’t have anything get spoiled.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Fair point. Are you here to see Specializer?”

            “Yes.”

            “I am, too!” They grinned. “Let’s go get tickets!”

            For all my bad luck, it looks like God is actually helping me out today.

            “That’s a nice ring!” commented (Y/N) as they walked in. “They look like the same metal as my earrings.”

            Saiki shrugged in answer.

            “Two tickets to Specializer,” said (Y/N) to the saleswoman.

            “Oh, how nice, a date to the movies!” remarked the lady.

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed. “Oh, uh, it’s—”

            “Yes, it’s nice,” said Saiki shortly, paying for the tickets and walking away. “No point in arguing with her. It’ll just waste time.”

            (Y/N) jogged to keep up with him. “If you say so.” They pushed away their stomach doing flips. “Let me pay for snacks at least. Now I have more money to spare on it.”

            Saiki nodded and let them buy the popcorn and sodas. While they walked to the theater, he easily avoided all the people who might have spoiled movies in the past. He and (Y/N) got nice seats in the theater, too. Things were actually going well for Saiki. He couldn’t help but smile.

            A germanium ring and (Y/N). It seems today is working out surprisingly in my favor.

            “Saiki, (L/N)?”

            I spoke too soon.

            (Y/N) nearly groaned. They almost got over an hour of time alone with Saiki (extremely difficult to obtain and rare), but, of course, a wild Teruhashi had to appear and ruin it. (Y/N) had nothing against Teruhashi, but…she attracted attention, especially from boys, and it made (Y/N) a bit insecure. Plus, it annoyed Saiki, and (Y/N) didn’t want him to have a bad day.

            Next to her, Saiki was also nearly groaning at how much the world hated him. He was also realizing that he could have avoided Teruhashi if he heard her thoughts early and cursing germanium again.

            “Hi, Teruhashi,” said (Y/N). They managed their usual cheerfulness and smiled.

            “Wow! What a coincidence! Are you two on a date?” Teruhashi’s eyes darted between the two.

            “Um, no, we aren’t,” said (Y/N) while Saiki shook his head.

            “Oh!” Teruhashi’s cheeks turned pink. She was happy to know that, although she couldn’t admit it to herself. “W-Well, I guess we’re all watching the movie together.”

            “Yeah…” answered (Y/N).

            I can’t hear her thoughts…That’s a problem. But I’ve been wanting to see this movie for a while, and I’m having a decent time.

            “D-Don’t this is an excuse,” said Teruhashi, “But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” She looked at Saiki, obviously speaking more to him than (Y/N). “You see, I’m here with someone, and…”

            “Oh?” Even Saiki was surprised on that one.

            “Kokomi! I bought some popcorn!” said a male voice. It was a boy with blue hair and sunglasses on.

            I swear I know him from somewhere, thought (Y/N). Probably someone famous since Teruhashi thinks he’s worthy of her.

            “Hey! Hey, you!” The boy took his sunglasses off and glared at Saiki. “What’s your relationship with my Kokomi?” He caught sight of (Y/N). “And what’re you doing with this poor teenager!”

            (Y/N) tilted their head in confusion at the statement.

            Yare yare. I never thought that (Y/N) would bring me unwanted attention.

            “Ah! Hey! Don’t take off your sunglasses!” exclaimed Teruhashi.

            Suddenly, all the patrons of the theater recognized the boy. It was Toru Megumi, the star of the film. They immediately crowded around him, obscuring any sound or view of the screen. Saiki decided to leave. The commotion would cause the showing to be canceled anyways. When he looked around, however, he could barely see (Y/N). Only their hand was visible. Using a bit of his super strength, he pushed through and grasped their wrist. Saiki pulled them out of the crowd and the theater.

            (Y/N) took a few deep breaths. Being nearly trampled was not a pleasant experience. “Thanks, you really saved me back there,” said (Y/N), chuckling through the adrenaline.

            Saiki simply nodded at them. Of course he had. They were his friend.

            “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the movie. Do you want to go watch one at one of our houses?” asked (Y/N).

            “My mom has been asking to see you,” mentioned Saiki. It was a good excuse to invite (Y/N) over without admitting he tolerated them.

            “She’s sweet!”

l

            Saiki and (Y/N) had long since finished the move that had been playing on TV, but Mrs. Saiki invited (Y/N) to stay over. Now, the two teenagers were sitting on the couch reading comfortably as Mrs. Saiki turned on the television. Saiki was holding the book while (Y/N) looked over his shoulder from where they lay on the couch (He had taken off the ring by now). So far, it was a relatively quiet, domestic night. In fact, Saiki was quite enjoying having (Y/N) over. And his parents liked them, so slowly but surely, (Y/N) was somehow becoming part of the Saiki household. Their parents were often away, so (Y/N) spent time in the Saiki home. Saiki didn’t mind them being a permanent part of his life. It was nice to have them around. Saiki supposed having it as a constant would be even better.

            But what that meant evaded him in a strange manner. He had the disconcerting feeling he was missing something.

            “Ah! Toru is on TV!” gushed Mrs. Saiki.

            “Who?” asked Mr. Saiki.

            “Oh, you don’t know him? It’s Toru Mugami,” said Mrs. Saiki. “He’s the most popular young actor today! I’ve become a huge fan of his! He’s known for his good looks, charm, and talent! Many people admire him. What do you think of him, (Y/N)?” Mrs. Saiki had taken to calling (Y/N) by their first name since she viewed the teen as a kid (and hopefully an in-law, if she had her way).

            (Y/N) shrugged. “I like his movies, but he’s not my type.” They glanced at Saiki for a moment before looking carefully away.

            Not their type? Maybe Kuu is! They’d be so cute together! thought Mrs. Saiki.

            Saiki’s eyes widened minutely. He hadn’t expected that.

            “Honey…who do you like more? Me or that Toru guy?” asked Mr. Saiki.

            “That’s a no brainer! Of course, it’s you, honey! Compared to you, he’s a fly on dog droppings!”

            “Isn’t that a little harsh?”

            “Your parents really love each other,” observed (Y/N), smiling softly.

            “Yeah.”

            “I hope to have a love like theirs. Not as energetic, but…true, enduring love,” said (Y/N). They laughed sheepishly. “I guess it’s a little silly, isn’t it?”

            “No, it isn’t.”

            Saiki knew what they meant. He saw people at school get in and out of relationships frequently, but although his parents were annoyingly in love, he preferred their constant affection compared to rocky relationships. He’d rather find one person he’d want to be around forever than be “passionately” into different people every-so-often. Besides, only one really fit his temperament.

            Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and the moment was broken.

            “Oh, a visitor!” remarked Mrs. Saiki, still hugging her husband while they used their strange fly on dog poop metaphor.

            “Geez, can’t they see we’re having a moment?” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Coming! Who is it?” Mrs. Saiki opened the door and gasped.

            “What’s wrong, honey?!” cried Mr. Saiki.

            “It’s the fly…I mean…!”

            “Sorry to bother you this evening,” said Toru Mugami. “Is this where Kusuo Saiki lives?”

            Mr. Saiki looked from him to the TV. “It’s the guy from TV!”

            “Why is Toru at our place?!” cried Mrs. Saiki.

            “Quiet. You’ll upset the neighbors.”

            Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Saiki managed to compose themselves and set out a drink for Toru in the dining room.

            “Thank you very much!” said Toru. He looked at the two teenagers. “Kusuo, (Y/N), do you remember that we met at the movie theater? I thought you might’ve gotten the wrong idea, so…To tell you the truth, Kokomi and I are siblings.”

            “You do look quite similar,” remarked (Y/N).

            “People often mistake us for a couple,” continued Toru.

            (Y/N) made a weirded-out face. Ew.

            “Wait…your Kokomi’s…?” Saiki’s parents were surprised.

            “Toru Mugami is my stage name,” explained the idol, “My real name is Makoto Teruhashi. Kokomi is worried that Kusuo and (Y/N) got the wrong idea, so I came to explain it to them. I’m lucky (Y/N) was here and not at their home.”

            “I wonder why she’s worried, right?” Mr. Saiki still believed Teruhashi was his New Year’s wish for Saiki come true.

            There are much better options for me, Dad. Saiki wasn’t really sure what those options he kept thinking of were, but the word kept coming.

            Mrs. Saiki noticed the time. “Ah! I have to make dinner.” She and Mr. Saiki walked out of the room.

            “Your parents sure are cheerful,” chuckled Makoto as they left. “Oh, that’s right. I have one more message for you.” He faced Saiki. “This one is from me. Could you hear me out?”

            (Y/N) looked between them and sipped their water to avoid feeling too awkward.

            “Stay away from my sister, you stupid piece of trash.”

            (Y/N) spit out the water in surprise.

            “And stop drawing other innocent people into your schemes!”

            Confused, (Y/N) tilted their head.

            “I don’t know if you’re my beloved Kokomi’s classmate or what, but don’t push your luck, you little snot,” said Makoto. “She’s out of your league, you worthless four-eyes.” He looked at (Y/N). “And you!”

            They pointed at themself awkwardly. “Um, yeah?”

            “Don’t get trapped by this perv who clearly wants a harem!” declared Makoto.

            (Y/N) nearly died on the spot.

            “I don’t want that at all.”

            “Then, you at least want my Kokomi! And I won’t allow it! You’re a fly on dog droppings!” sneered Makoto.

            “I never knew that was such a popular analogy…” mumbled (Y/N).

            “Don’t start using it.”

            “Do you think you have a chance?” questioned Makoto scornfully.

            “Nope, not thinking that,” answered Saiki frankly.

            “Since you see her every day and can even say hi to her, you probably think that you’ll get married after a long courtship, right?” rambled Makoto.

            “Not thinking that, either.”

            “This is really detailed…” commented (Y/N). “It’s pretty concerning.”

            “Stop dreaming, you scum,” said Makoto.

            “I said I’m not, didn’t I?”

            “She’s such a pretty girl. It’s just natural that you’re drawn to her just like hyenas to dead flesh,” said Makoto.

            “In that analogy, Teruhashi is dead flesh.”

            (Y/N) stifled a laugh.

            “Kokomi isn’t just a pretty girl!” declared Makoto. “She’s a masterpiece created by God!”

            “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

            “So the only one who’s suitable for Kokomi is me!” Makoto pointed to himself.

            Saiki, and even ever-bubbly (Y/N), turned blank.

            “What the heck is he talking about?”

            “That’s just wrong,” said (Y/N), staring at Makoto. They were deeply disturbed

            Even (Y/N) doesn’t like him. That meant Makoto was truly terrible.

            “Your just her classmate,” continued the weird boy, “I’ve been by her side since she was born!”

            “Yeah…because you’re siblings,” pointed out Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded, their face showing their growing concern (and disgust) for the state of Makoto’s mind.

            “The one who’ll marry my sister is me!” cried Makoto.

            “I see. So he’s a perv.”

            (Y/N) shuddered. “Gross, gross, gross.” They edged behind Saiki slightly.

            “I’ll never have some filthy nobody have my Kokomi!” Makoto had crazed eyes. “The only one who can lay their hands on her is me, her brother!”

            How did his parents let him get this bad?

            “Ahhh, Kokomi! I love you more than anyone else in the world does!” declared Makoto.

            “Obsession doesn’t begin to cover this…” muttered (Y/N) uncomfortably.

            “Don’t you ever get near my Kokomi,” sneered Makoto to Saiki, “Don’t try to make a harem with her and this teenager. Don’t even look her. In fact, don’t even breathe the same air she does.”

            “Yare yare.”

            Suddenly, they all heard a knock at the Saiki household’s front door. It gave (Y/N) and Saiki the perfect opportunity to escape the stifling room. They stood, but before they reached the door, Teruhashi herself opened the door.

            “Kokomi?” exclaimed Makoto.

            “What’re you doing here?” asked a frenzied Teruhashi.

            “Wow, she easily figured out where he was,” remarked (Y/N).

            Actually, I called her here.

            “Hey, what’re you doing here?” repeated Teruhashi.

            “Well, you were worried that Saiki and (L/N) got the wrong idea, right?” said Makoto, smiling innocently.

            “What…? I didn’t tell you that…How did you…,” stammered Teruhashi.

            “I always know what you’re thinking,” said Makoto. “You no longer have to worry about it. I explained anything.”

            “I-I see. I’m gla— What?” she cried. Does that mean Saiki knows I was worried he got the wrong idea?!

            She really isn’t concerned about (Y/N).

            Makoto continued, “I’m always—.”

            “Why…” said Teruhashi lowly. “Why did you have to stick your nose into this?! I hate you, big brother!”

            Makoto’s world collapsed around him.

            “Will he leave now?” said (Y/N), peering down at Makoto and poking him with their shoe in distaste.

            “I hope so.”

            (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

@janezee12751275

@xenop0p

@ex160-blog1

@futureittomainn

@boogiemansbitch

@dmitrytherat

@yuriisclumsy

@sixxze

@constellationguy

@k03ume

@sweatyinternettrash

@paastaboi

[disn3y-land]

*SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 27 XADEN'S POV SCROLL IF YOU HAVEN'T READ I'M SORRY TO MY NON AMERICAN FRIENDS*

I was getting so many butterflies reading chapter 27 from Xaden's pov omg. THIS MAN WAS DOWN BAD SINCE THE BEGINNING. I love Sgaeyl calling Xaden out (multiple times) I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time.

I ALSO found it interesting how we got a little bit more insight on xaden and liam's home situation after the apostasy, and my jaw DROPPED when Xaden said something about how Lewellen was the one that raised them after the apostasy, and yet in chapter 31 of FW Liam says they were raised by Duke Trivell or something SO YES REBECCA'S RIGHT THERE ARE STILL SO MANY SECRETS XADEN IS KEEPING. why did the king think they were staying with Duke what's-his-face if they were actually with Lewellen? This helps the whole Cat plot point make much more sense if it was all a con, or if Lewellen was pretending to be the Duke guy. I hope we learn more about this in later books.

AND THE THINGS XADEN WAS THINKING ABOUT VIOLET GAVE ME HEART PALPITATIONS THIS MANNN.

HE ADMITTED THAT IT WAS PARTLY/MOSTLY? HIS FAULT THEY LEFT BASGIATH AND FLEW TO MONSURRAT (IDK HOW TO SPELL IT I'M JUST GETTING MY THOUGHTS OUT HERE) BECAUSE HE SAID HE IS AN EXCELLENT LIAR AFTER HE TOLD SOMEONE SOMETHING TO THE EFFECT OF 'THIS WASN'T MY FAULT' OR 'SGAYL NEEDED TO SEE TAIRN SO MUCH WE LEFT FOR HER'

AND I WAS DYING WHEN I READ SGAEYL IMITATING HIS THOUGHTS QUOTE: "Does she miss me? Is she thinking about me? Is she getting closer to Aetos?" AHGFDDHDSHSH SGAEYL THE QUEEN THAT YOU ARE PLEASE REBECCA GIVE US MORE SGAEYL I BEGG

AND HIM ROASTING DAIN THE ENTIRE CHAPTER?? HE KEPT CALLING HIM A DADDY'S BOY AND EVERY TIME DAIN SPOKE HE DESCRIBED IT AS PATHETIC AHAHAHAHA PLEASE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

AND EVERY MOMENT WITH VIOLET?? HE WANTS HER SO BADD I'M PANTING HE'S CONVINCED HE'S THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD FOR HER DO HE STAYS AWAY BUT HE'S SO PATHETICALLY IN LOVE I ATE IT ALL UP

AND WE FINALLY FOUND OUT WHERE IMOGEN WENTT THERE WERE SO MANY THEORY'S AND YES REBECCA CLEARED IT ALL UP SO WELL

AND THE SCENES BETWEEN HIM AND LIAM MADE ME WANT TO BAWL LIKE A BABY PLEASE BRING HIM BACKK I'LL DO ANYTHINGG

THESE ARE JUST MY INITIAL THOUGHTS (I'M 1000% MISSING SOMETHING I FREAKED ABOUT BUT I'M SURE I'LL MAKE MORE POSTS ABOUT IT DW)

[rainee-da]

🍀 Your First "I Love You" [2]

CHARACTER ❥ Delisaster 🍾 / Domina Blowelive 💧 / Cell War 💎

W A R N I N G ⚠️ PG-13 fluff with hurt/comfort on some / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be too OOC for you.

D E L I S A S T E R 🪞

He was simply lounging around, stuffing himself with booze (rip that liver) when you suddenly come into the room.

At first, he didn't pay any mind to it. He gave you one of his toothy smiles as he leaned back on the chair lazily, waving a bottle of booze to your face, saying "Eyy sup', want some?"

When you finally say the magic word, he suddenly goes blank.

Not like a 'mind-blank' type of blank, but his face suddenly goes blank. All the shine in his eyes, his smiles, vanish into the void.

Honestly, this will make you feel afraid. Did you anger him? Did he not feel the same?

He suddenly picked up his phone and made a call to someone with a low whispering tone, too low for you to hear anything, and walked away. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

But before you could think of any worst-case scenarios, a bunch of his goons suddenly barge into the room bringing... party popper???

Delisaster finally comes back being brought in by his goons... on a sedan chair???

At least, you're now relieved because he's now giving you a wide smile. A bit too wide. Scrap that- now you're creeped out.

Before you could ask about what the hell was going on, all of his goons popped the party popper, and a bunch of pink-shaded confetti flew across the room. Good luck seeing anything at all.

As soon as you're able to scrap off any of the confetti that is stuck on your face, you've now realized that the confetti is shaped into a heart. Kinda cute tbh.

And out of nowhere, he's already in front of you. Smiling wide, hugging you tight, laughing maniacally.

"YAHOOOOOOOO YOU SAID THE MAGIC WOOOO-" rip your ears.

All of the goons that surround you are now crying for some damn reason, passing a box of tissues around. Is this a wedding? a funeral??

Finally calming down, Delisaster finally leans back to take a look at your face. Now you can see that his smile is so gentle and he's looking at you oh so fondly.

He's caressing your face as if you're made of glass, and this is the most gentle and affectionate you've ever seen him. Usually, he's a menace to society

"I know I never really made you feel easy around me, especially with my reputation and all... not even my brothers can stand me... I don't even know if I deserve you," his voice breaks slightly as he leans closer your ear, "But you made me the happiest man, and I can never thank you enough for that... I love you too, baby."

... That would be so romantic if only the goons around you aren't screaming an ugly-ass cry, with the sound of snots being sniffed as ambience.

D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧

He chokes on his apple juice, almost snorting liquid through his nose when you suddenly come up to him and say those.

"W-what do you mean??" he stammers with his face now as vibrant as his hair, eyes shaky as they darted around to avoid your gaze. "Do... do you even understand what you're saying? how serious that word is??"

Man is so melodramatic, but you can't blame him. All his life he believes that any form of endearment given to someone means that there is any ulterior motives behind it and things such as 'pure love' is just a thing from a fantasy book.

You are fully aware of his upbringing, so you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't believe you right away.

What you didn't expect though is for him to go into full-teacher mode and info-dumping you about the definition of love.

He deadass mansplaining 'Love' to you by citing sources from dictionaries, biology, and psychology studies.

He's so academically smart and his brain is like a walking dictionary but he's misusing it in such a weird way.

After he's done with his rant explanation that who knows how long it is, he'll avert his gaze from yours. He's panting slightly as he broke in with his question, "Now that you understand, next time don't say those words so easily to someone," he huffed slightly and crossed his arms, "It's not like I've ever done anything to you that warrants something such as that, you know."

Okay, now that understandably pissed you off. So it's now your turn to go on full-tangent on why you love him, what you love about him, how you didn't need him to do anything for you to love him, and about how his view of love is full of shit.

And now it's his turn to be bewildered. Your outburst has effectively overwhelming his heart with warmness that he never felt before in his life.

By the time you're done his face that is previously tinted pink now goes scarlet red. His mouth is agape and shaking slightly like a fish in the open air, and all of the retort he intended to throw is stuck in his throat.

Domina_Blowelive.exe stopped working lol.

"Whatever! You're stupid anyway," is the only counter he could throw back at you, and Gods he hate how weak that ended up coming out from his mouth.

Before you could say anything back to him he already turned his back and stomped away from you, huffing and mumbling profanities.

He's so embarassed that he didn't pay any attention to his path and ended up turning left a bit too early, and slamming his head onto the wall.

If Levis and the gang are around to see that, they'll not be alive for long lol.

You're the only one who could make the top students of the prestigious magic school Walkis Academy turn into a cuckoo mess. Congratulations!

It will take you a while for him to finally believe and accept your feelings. Even so, you didn't need him to say anything to know that he feels the same way.

His journey to recovery is still long ahead, he needs more time to unpack those childhood trauma that led him to become the person that he was. But I swear it will be worth it.

Please be patient with him ♥

C E L L W A R 💎

"What do you want now?" he said as he stared at you with an exhausted look on his face, checking you out to figure out your intention based on body language alone.

Because that's the only reason for his whole existence in this world, right? to give and to serve?

You repeated your confession, and now he stares at you dumbfounded. He narrowed his eyes and exhaled in frustration as he ruffled your hair slightly.

"Don't say such a useless thing next time. It's a burden."

Yeouwch that comes out wrong doesn't it?

Even though what he means by that is that it is useless for YOU to love HIM, and it will only burden YOU to love HIM.

But what do you expect? he survives his whole life in the attendance of Innocent Zero's deranged family by belittling himself down, doing all the nuisance and humiliating tasks to stroke Innocent Zero's children's ego. what a bunch of manchild.

Being negative and blunt comes as a second nature to him.

But then again, now you're hurt. What makes it worse is that before you can ask him to clarify what he means he's already out of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He realizes that you seem like you're about to cry before he goes, and he can feel his heart ache to see you making that expression. Then again, what he said is not exactly wrong, right?

He's only realized what he did when Delisaster waltzing to him out of nowhere, whistling towards him and teasing him about "being so cold to your booboo."

He can feel his soul draining out of his body as he listens to Delisaster's explanation that is filled with a bunch of degrading mockery because let me remind you again he's a menace.

Delisaster finally saunters off somewhere else. Cell takes this short amount of time to his advantage and goes hell-bent on finding you.

The maid and butler that come past him are confused because they never see Cell that mortified.

Upon finding you, he wastes no time and lunges towards you on instinct, effectively tackling you to the ground as if he's a bounty hunter. But he made sure to hug your head before it slammed to the ground, burying it in his chest.

His mind goes blank at the sudden closeness and now he has no games. Honestly, he didn't know what to say either even if his mind did not go blank. Man really had no games.

But he still tries his best, like he always does. He leans back slightly while still pining you down, staring at you with eyes wavering, a mixture of anxiousness and affection.

"I... just realized I worded it wrongly before..." he stated hesitantly as a start as he proceeded to explain his thought process, "Honestly, I don't know if I should even be indulging in these feelings... I have my master to serve, and I'm afraid you will get hurt if he finds out."

His mouth clumsily formed into a thin smile, his hand reaches towards your hair, twirling it on his finger and taking a mental note of how soft it was, "But, to answer yours... I feel the same, and always has been."

The smile that grows on your face makes his world stop for a moment. Stunning him into silence as he stares into your eyes that is full of life and affection. His mind then wanders, imagining things that a tool like him should have no right to dream of.

'Wouldn't it be so nice... if I could live a normal life with you?'

This is the continuation of this headcanon! I initially intended for this to be included in the previous post but alas; I hit a roadblock lolol-

I've been thinking back and forth between adding Cell War or not. But I didn't care what anyone say; Cell War is part of the family too! I want to make hcs this angsty boi so much

I'll be ending this prompt right here and move on to the next one I had in mind (I'm currently in Mash's brother hyper-fixation phases and will be writing tons of them in the future lol). If you want me to write for other character feel free to request one as long as the ask is open!

Thank you for reading!🍀

[thebowieconstricker]

Stagedoor Sparks! (Matthew Patel x Reader) ✨🔥🔱

masterlist link

AN: OH MY GOODNESS YOU GUYS WERE FEELING THIS ONE OKAY-

I’m so glad to see people hyped up for my pathetic pirate boy. Please enjoy and if this goes well I may turn it into a series lol

We’ve got a gender neutral reader, idiots in love, I saw someone say pathetic x pathetic and YES, theater kid lingo, mild swearing, and your favorite cutie pie. ⚠️Also, this is heavily based on Scott Pilgrim Takes Off, so spoiler warnings for that if you haven’t seen it! ⚠️ Enjoy!

“Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Musical”, was what the bright lights of the massive sign on your local theater boasted. Recently, your coworker Julie had been telling you about the ridiculous life of this ‘Scott Pilgrim’, ranting about the conga line of characters that filled his (frankly, pathetic sounding) existence. She had also alerted you to this… musical. A musical that had been written about his life.

You sighed to yourself and adjusted your bag. Making your way to the golden, elaborately designed doors, just barely dodging all the paparazzi (why was there so much paparazzi?), you somehow successfully made your way into the main lobby of the theatre. Ivory and gold filled your vision as you observed the plush red carpet that lined each of the three floors. You had visited this theater before, and it’s gorgeous grandeur never failed to amaze you.

Now, you did not at all care about this guy. Yes, you had been silently internalizing every minuscule part of this random guy’s daily shenanigans, but that was because you were being a good friend to Julie! This Scott guy seemed like a tool, and you weren't particularly interested in listening to a…?

You checked the playbill the usher had just handed you.

…THREE HOUR MUSICAL?!? You almost started laughing right there.

But anyways, you weren’t here for this Scott guy.

You were here for musical theater. You had always been drawn to the fantastical world of lights and costumes and music. Plus, this was a community production with actors from Toronto, and you were always happy to support your local theater kids.

As you finally made your way to your seat, you sat down in the plush red chairs and opened your playbill to the cast section. You didn’t see any names you recognized, but one stood out to you.

Matthew Patel - Scott Pilgrim

Obviously, Scott Pilgrim was the lead role, but what really caught your attention was the picture attached to the name. Matthew Patel, you respectfully observed, was mad cute.

The lights suddenly began to dim and you settled in for whatever was in store, keeping a keen eye out for this ‘Matthew Patel’.

~~~ Holy shit, this is the best thing you’ve ever seen.

From the moment Matthew Patel walked onstage, you were absolutely smitten. He wore a bright orange wig that clashed horrendously with his dark skin, and an oversized jacket, but he was the hottest thing you had ever seen. Also, holy shit, Matthew Patel could sing. From the first line, you were completely enraptured by his high tenor belting. As you watched him onstage, you saw literal sparks in his eyes, his excitement and passion for the stage radiating off of him.

At the curtain call, you stood and enthusiastically clapped for each of the cast members, but hooped and hollered for Matthew especially. Even though you knew he couldn’t see you from the stage, you found yourself blushing at the thought of him looking at you.

That’s when it hit you: You’ve gotta book it to stage door to meet this guy.

~~~ Matthew Patel was completely exhausted. As the curtains flew closed, he sighed and turned around to smile at his cast mates. Although he was drained by his performance, he always took this opportunity at the end of a show to look to his fellow caste mates.

And hopefully someone would invite him with their group to an after show dinner.

He walked through the crowd, giving pats on the back and thumbs ups as he made his way to his dressing room. Lots of smiles, lots of “great job!”’s but… no invitations.

Slamming the door to his room he quickly took of his wig and put on his regular clothes, deciding that he would take off his stage makeup at home (aka the makeup he regularly wore but no one cared enough to know that). His room had a window where he could look down at the stagedoor line, the line that had been non-existent since opening night. He didn’t take it personally, since this musical was for a very specific audience of people and he understood that outside of them, no one knew or cared who Scott Pilgrim was. But still, he was onstage. He was singing and dancing and his art was being celebrated. Yes, he was lonely, still, but life wasn’t too bad right now.

As he did every day, he quickly glanced out his window to check for audience members at stage door and, sure enough, no one-

Wait-

Someone was there?

He did a double take and physically walked to the window, his hands placed against the glass and his now quickening breath creating a fog.

SOMEONE WAS THERE??!?!?

From high up in his dressing room, he saw a small figure holding the bright red playbill of his show. They seemed to be moving back and forth on their feet, bouncing excitedly. From so high up he couldn’t see their expression, but could make out what he thought was a smile.

He broke out into a wide smile. Running around his room, gathering his things and throwing them into his backpack, only one thought raced through his mind: He had to get down there.

~~~ As you waited, the cold Toronto air stung against your flushed cheeks. You were still high on endorphins from the show, the songs already worming their way into your head as you tapped your feet in anticipation.

Suddenly, and without warning, a man burst out of the dark black door you were waiting out, out of breath and panting. He was so hellbent on running out the door that he ran right into you, knocking you over!

“AH-“, you both made the same sound as you fell, the man directly on top of you.

“Oh- apologies, ma’am, I uh-“

You would have said a number of rude things to this man but, seeing his face, you were starstruck.

“Matthew Patel?”

His eyes widened in shock. Carefully, he got off of you and onto his knee in front of you. Gently, he took your hand and pulled you up, the both of you now back on your feet.

“You know me?”

You couldn’t help but notice the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Of course! Well- I mean, you know, you’re Scott Pilgrim! You were absolutely incredible up there, just amazing! My jaw was the floor the whole time! I mean, your voice and your dancing and the fight scenes-“

As you rambled on and on, Matthew was unable to snap himself out of the trance you had put him in. Visually, you were breathtaking, so much so he didn’t know how he had ever found anyone else attractive. But more so, you were genuinely complimenting him. He was never complimented on his theater work. He’d get the rare one from his cast mates, but never an outside fan.

Noticing his silence, you suddenly stopped talking.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to rant, it’s just- one theater kid to another, you were so amazing.”

He shook his head at your apology. “No, don’t be sorry. You’re- you’re very kind. Thank you. And I’m sorry again for… running you over.”

You laughed- a leitmotif to rival Sondheims to Matthew’s ears- and looked at him with a goofy grin.

“Would you sign my playbill?”

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

The two of you spoke at the same time, and one’s question made the other blush furiously. Matthew’s entire body tensed in embarrassment that he had been bold enough to ask you out like this, not even knowing your name.

You were absolutely over the moon.

“I- uh- yes. Yes, I would love to.”

Your smile got impossibly wider, and the sparks in Matthew’s eyes that you had noted during his performance returned. With a huge grin, he reached out his hand to take your playbill. You handed it to him and a marker appeared in his other hand as he quickly scribbled his signature.

“What’s your name?”

You told him and his blush deepened. He turned back to the playbill and scribbled a bit more, then handed it to you. You squeaked in excitement and looked at what he had written.

To my biggest fan,

(Y/N)

Looking back up at him, you were certain this was the start of something new.

“So… do you like Italian?”

~~~ HEY MATTHEW FANS TAKE THIS FIC! GO, FETCH! This’ll make a lot more sense if you like musicals, so have fun! Like I said at the start, if y’all want more and I’m feeling up to it, I’ll write more! Happy holidays, folks!

[avelera]

What if Louis/Armand in AMC IWTV is meant to be torture... for Lestat?

Basically... what if the whole relationship between Louis and Armand, going back to when Armand first encountered him, is a deliberate "fuck you" to Lestat by Armand, and that is his chief motive for having the relationship at all? For keeping Louis in a gilded prison, for making Louis his love at all, for allowing the interview, and for little things like telling Lestat that Louis was injured, but not telling him where or how to help or passing on the "I love you" to Louis, and perhaps effectively keeping Louis away from Lestat ever since in a game of keep-away, as the most effective way to torture Lestat that Armand has in his possession.

I want to preface this theory by saying it's probably a bridge too far. That's a lot of premeditated malice to ascribe to Armand. I do think there was and is love there between Armand and Louis as seen in the show.

But at the same time... this might surprise some show watchers, but book Armand is an ancient creature of malice who uses his boyish looks to appear soft and gentle when he is anything but. He's over 500 years old and he spent 200 of those years running the Paris Children of Darkness, a Satanic organization that gave his life meaning and purpose during those years.

And even with show Armand, we've seen him capable of playing the long game, pretending to be someone else in Season 1 as he played Fake Rashid, with motives for doing so that are still inscrutable.

We've already seen as of ep 2.6 that Lestat broke up Armand's Paris Coven, the Children of Darkness. But I want to get into why Armand might have been lying about how he was fine with it, that he saw it coming for years, that Lestat was just the instrument of his own desire to move on from that squalid situation.

What if he wasn't fine with it? What if he still isn't fine with it? What if the long game, ever since, is to take everything away from Lestat that Armand can get his hands on, including Claudia, but especially Louis?

Well, to give my evidence for this I'll have to delve into the books a bit, so proceed at your own risk for spoilers.

Here's an excerpt from The Vampire Lestat, with Armand speaking to Lestat after the events in Paris, when he forced Lestat to testify in the trial against Louis and Claudia, because it was always Armand's plan to put Claudia on trial so he could get rid of her and have Louis for himself. For Louis to be buried alive in punishment so that Armand could save him and they could depart together:

"[Armand] leaned forward, and his face transformed itself as it had done years and years ago, as if his rage were melting it from within. 

“You, who destroyed all of us, you who took everything. Whatever made you think that I would help you!” He came closer, the face all but collapsed upon itself. “You who put us on the lurid posters in the boulevard du Temple, you who made us the subject of cheap stories and drawing room talk!” ...

...“We had our Eden under that ancient cemetery,” he hissed. “We had our faith and our purpose. And it was you who drove us out of it with a flaming sword. What do we have now! Answer me! Nothing but the love of each other and what can that mean to creatures like us!”"

Armand plays the long game. Armand is a creature of spite and malice, at least through Lestat's eyes in his own autobiography.

Armand was not fine with the Paris Coven being dispelled. He was not fine with Lestat's generosity or the new purpose given to him by Lestat by establishing the Theatre des Vampires. He loathed it.

And after this above exchange with Lestat, Armand picked up Lestat and flew him up high above Paris and dropped him. Armand did that to Lestat in the books, it wasn't Lestat to Louis (though that could simply be a change for the show, or perhaps even reinvented as a deliberate act of revenge on Louis' behalf for what Lestat did to him, and not some sort of mind alteration by Armand but... we'll see.)

It would be a hell of a twist to end the season on. Arguably, a twist akin to the reveal of Rashid-is-actually-Armand at the end of the first season. That this has all, all of it, since the 1940s been one long revenge play against Lestat.

Again, I think it's probably a bridge too far, too cartoonishly evil, but...man, there is that but lingering in my mind. Because this is the sort of thing Armand would do. He's done it before in the books with the trial of Louis and Claudia being one elaborate pantomime to punish Lestat and Claudia and get Louis to himself.

And it's been bothering me ever since the reveal at the end of S1 that we're in an AU where Louis/Armand stayed together instead of breaking up right after Paris like they did in the book. And if I was writing this canon divergence AU, it would be a hell of a thing to make the pivot point be, "No, Louis and Armand didn't break up because Armand wouldn't let Louis go because all of this has been one long elaborate fuck you to Lestat for destroying the Children of Darkness and robbing Armand of the purpose he'd had in life for over 200 years." 70 years of revenge by comparison? That's nothing.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The First Fairy Tale

ahdbalidbaidf I'M SUCH A SUCKER FOR UNREQUITED KNIGHT X PRINCESS STUFF (even if it's not clear whether or not Lilia's crush persisted beyond childhood in canon) SO. I'M WRITING THIS… 😭This fic is purposefully ambiguous about the type of love Lilia feels in the end for Meleanor. It’s up to the reader to interpret it as they please. This piece was inspired the story of Madame Red from Black Butler. You don't need to know either to enjoy, but if you do happen to know them then I think you'll appreciate it more. There’s also some references to a few Disney films besides Sleeping Beauty—can you find which ones? I also purposefully repeated some phrases and blended a few references together to give the fic a “dream-like”/deja vu feeling. There was going to be a wedding scene opening with “There wasn’t a cloud in the sky” in reference to We Don’t Talk About Bruno, but I had to cut that since the fic was getting long. Even without that and some other cut scenes, I think this is the longest fic I’ve written before. It’s almost 8k words!!

... Do you remember? I told my first fairy tale to you, my most beloved. ***Spoilers for book 7 part 5 of the main story!***

Imagine this...

In a castle forgotten by time, a lone figure walked among the creeping thorns. The plants swallowed the grounds, yet he moved swiftly and stealthily, passing over briar as easily as water over stone. Not a single movement was wasted as he traversed the brambled floors.

His ponytail—black streaked with red—fell in his path, the slight whip of it the only trace of his presence. He had traded his battle armor of old for plainclothes long ago, but still hadn’t filled into them yet. To shed the life of a general for that of a civilian was no simple task.

The small, doughy creature pressed against his shoulder sleepily lifted its head. Upon the infant’s crown was a cap of shockingly silver hair, the same color as moonlight. The boy thrusted a pudgy hand into his cheek, delivering a soft pap to the hardened veteran.

“Tch…!” Lilia pulled away brusquely. “Troublesome little creature, aren’t you? Hold still. We’d have made it out of here by now if only you weren’t so…”

Weak, defenseless, frail, vulnerable.

An array of potential words rose to fill in the gap. He settled on the least abrasive one he could muster.

Something cute.

Children like cute, right…? Right.

“… squishy.”

The infant—no, Silver, he corrected himself—seemed curious about the response, staring up with sudden interest. Lilia’s skin prickled at the sensation. He averted his eyes to an interior that had seen better days.

Once a shining jewel to house the crown princess, Wild Rose Castle was abandoned now. The thorns had invaded, climbing the walls and digging themselves into every nook and crevice. Furniture and weapons devoured, flags and tapestries consumed, meeting a similar fate as the nation that had once proudly flew them.

Ruins entombing stolen time.

What had once been a palace teeming with history, with life, was left a barren wasteland. All that remained were shadows of the past which clung thickly to the thorns. One misstep, and they would cut into him, bringing both pain and searing hot memories.

Funny, that: how the natural forces were unrelenting and indiscriminate. Yet the trace of an enchantment in the air suggested otherwise, its telltale tingle palpable. He knew the bramble had come from magical means.

A fairy's spell lingered. Some bygone blessing or curse, told in the tattered remains of a hazy vision and a wish for more halcyon days. Parents wanting to spare their child from the horrors of war.

Lilia's grip on Silver subconsciously tightened.

What rotten luck. I return after all this time to pay my respects, only to find Wild Rose Castle in this sorry state. How the mighty fall.

Silver fidgeted in his arms, as if sensing that something was off. A bit of saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth, a soft whine gurgling up.

“You’re fussing again already?” Lilia frowned. He awkwardly laid a hand on the infant’s back. Are all infants this incorrigible? "The journey will be a long one if you aren't able to settle."

The infant turned its head, his cheek fitting neatly into Lilia's palm. There was a coo, then a sigh of contentment.

Still shaking off the sleepiness.

"... You're so needy," Lilia grumbled, noting the drool wetting his skin. Silver blinked at him with large, iridescent orbs. "I don't understand. Do people actually find this endearing? To find such joy in raising their young is..."

He hesitated to finish his sentence.

What did a man like him have to say on the matter? Long-lived as he was, that kind of love was something he had ever experienced for himself.

A gentle, warm hand to guide him through the darkness. The love of a parent.

Yet here I am, a loveless fae robbing a baby from its cradle. Just as the humans believe we do.

What irony.

Sadness nipped at Lilia as his thoughts turned to Silver. If anything, the little one had more power to shape the world around it than he ever could.

It was for this sort of creature that the Dawn Knight made a prayer for the future. It was for this sort of creature that Baul's rigid heart shifted. It was for this sort of creature that she...!!

Lilia's fingers had clenched into a vice grip on Silver. The infant cried out, squirming uncomfortably in his new guardian's grasp.

"Shoot...!! Er... there, there. It will be alright."

He clumsily rocked the baby back and forth. It was too vigorous, for Silver bursted into tears. His wails echoed off the desolate walls of the castle, piercing loud in Lilia's ears.

The fae jerked back, holding Silver at a safe distance from him. His grasp, precarious.

This is proving to be much more challenging than I initially thought... H-How do I silence it?!

Lilia glanced around helplessly at his surroundings. Everything was encased in a cage of thorns: antiques, drapes, even the axes mounted for decoration—to liven up the room. They were impossible for him to reach, else he could swing them around to amuse the boy.

Pieces of the past far out of his reach.

It’s not an option. A human babe is not like a fae babe. Lilia’s head swarmed with stress, Silver’s sobs only multiplying his worries. What do I do? What… would she do?

Meleanor…

The name of his princess emerged. Along with it, a scene blossoming in sepia shades.

Her, in a regal black gown and dripping in green gemstones and finery. Him, in a general's armor. A princess and her knight, straight out of a fairy tale.

She was humming while caressing a large egg, a marbled violet flecked with green, dark webbing laced the shell. It conformed perfectly to her chest, pulsating with a strange warmth as she ran taloned fingers over it. Another role she had adopted: mother.

A low chuckle rose from the back of her throat. "Fufufu Look, Malleus. Our dear Lilia has taken the time out of his busy schedule to come pay us a visit."

"It's been quite some time since I last heard you giggle like a schoolgirl. Nice to know that you remain in good spirits." He arched an eyebrow. "... But since when did you decide to name the child? I thought the medical mages hadn't even determined a gender for your heir yet."

"Oh, some time ago," she replied flippantly. Meleanor was always like a storm, unpredictable and acting on her own whims. "I don't need anyone to tell me what my child will be. I already know... my Malleus will grow up to be an upstanding, beautiful man just like my Raverne."

She had a dreamy, faraway look on her face. A slight blush to her high cheeks, a shine to her eyes, a kind smile at her lips. Completely unlike her, the tomboy who snuck out of the castle unsupervised and caused trouble for all the servants.

So utterly smitten.

For that moment and that moment alone, Lilia would have believed her a patient princess awaiting a knight in shining armor's rescue. Not him, but her beloved.

Raverne.

He had to bite back a terse laugh, mask it with a joke. "Your Raverne? Hold on now, you've got to share him with the rest of us. We'd simply crumble without his wisdom."

"I don't intend to share what's rightfully mine.” A teasing smirk he knew well had found its way onto her pert mouth again. “I'm a very possessive woman.”

"As I’m well aware. Alas, I serve such a cruel mistress of evil.”

She chuckled, resting a hand on her egg. "... When Raverne returns, we shall arrange for tea. The two of you can regale me with the stories of your journeys. It gets to be so dull trapped in these castle walls. Oh, and of course, Malleus will be joining us. He has yet to experience our cozy little get-togethers.”

Their group. Their trio. The three of them. And now a new member. An expansion of the family unit—no, rather, the realization that something didn’t belong among them.

His heartbeat quickened.

"There you go again, making rash requests of me. You really ought to be more considerate of others. I came all this way out of the goodness of my heart, only for you to bark more orders at me. Don't I get to take a break?"

"I am being considerate," she insisted. "I'm considering Malleus. He is invited. You cannot uninvite him."

"That's not the point. Agh, what am I going to do with you?" Lilia ran a hand through his hair. The frustration was familiar—but so was the fondness that chased it.

“My, my. Such insolence. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me for a long, looong time. You should be less stubborn and more kind to your princess,” she purred, her words touched with dry sarcasm. “Isn’t that right, Malleus?”

“I’m too kind to you. Too patient as well,” Lilia sighed. “… It’s you who is headstrong.”

“I must be. I have a country and now a family behind me. A scorned mother’s rage is insurmountable, you know.”

He should have said something back. Played into their usual banter. But he didn’t—couldn’t bring himself to. Lilia looked away quickly, but not quite quickly enough.

“Oh? What nerve you have to avoid the gaze of your princess.” She dropped her playful tone. “Something weighs heavy on your mind.”

“… I can never hide anything from you, can I?”

“You will inform me at once.”

“So you can obliterate what ails me?”

“So that I may put you at ease." She lifted a hand, gesturing toward him. "That is the duty of a queen to her people… and, more importantly, of a friend to another."

Friend.

It stung right down to his bones, hurting more than a blast of righteous lightning. A reminder of what he was: a footnote, a supporting cast member in her grand story. Without that, he was nothing.

An outcast.

His stomach clenched. He forced down a bitter pill and spoke.

"I was just wondering what it must feel like to be in your position, Meleanor-sama," Lilia whispered. "Mother to a nation, and to a child. To wholly devote oneself to the service of others... I will never know what that is like."

At this, she laughed darkly. "I am strong. I have to be, because I have people to protect. You have that strength as well. You wouldn't be able to serve as one of my generals without it. There are just some things in this world worth risking your life for, hmm?"

"I don't understand. My loyalty will always lie with you, with Briar Country... but for a child, I cannot...!!" Lilia stopped himself, reining his emotions back to calm. "I've never known how that kind of love feels. I'm not capable of it."

Meleanor narrowed her eyes as she listened to his woes. Unwise men would think her contemplative. He knew better—she was scheming.

"... Let me tell you a secret, Lilia," she said at last. "A dragon's egg needs its parents' love to hatch. However, true love is a special spell. It's more powerful than any magic, and able to be cast by anyone. If you are able to protect me, then that alone is proof enough that you are capable of 'true love'."

"You make it sound so simple, but is it really like that? The children of man say that fae cannot tell an untruth, yet you so expertly reassure me with lies."

"You're questioning me? Laughable. I am a woman of my honor, unlike you with all your tall tales."

"They're not tall tales. They're real stories of the danger I was in. Danger that, mind you, I got in half the time on behalf of your demands."

"Is that so?" Meleanor had smiled at him then, her teeth gleaming in the dim candlelight. Long lashes fluttering against the emeralds of her eyes. "Then you wouldn't mind sharing a story or two with Malleus."

Lilia bristled at the thought, an old wound reopened. There was a burst of relief that accompanied the dull pain.

I can't sing her lullabies. I don't have her strength either. No partner to speak of, no family to look to. What I do have is...

He pressed Silver into him, keeping a hand rested reassuringly on the infant's upper back. Muffled cries and a warm wetness pooled on Lilia's shoulder. His steps slowed, coming to a steady pace.

The first words were the most difficult to get out.

"... Once upon a time, there was a princess living in this castle." His voice was slow and deep and sorrowful. Not a song, but a longing croon for days he could never return to.

They entered a corridor lined with paintings. The sound of Silver's sobbing funneled into the passage, a greeting to the dour faces of important officials portrayed in each frame. Horned, with raven hair and reptilian eyes, obsidian scales dotting their skin, milky and smooth as wax.

Lilia lowered his head to one as they passed--a woman upon a throne, scepter in hand, her pointed features dappled by moonlight.

"She was many things. Selfish, impetuous, and stubborn… but also brave, strong, and beautiful."

So beautiful.

That had been his first impression of her. A single pale rose amid a garden of thorns.

She was tiny in those days, still trotting about in small, polished heels that clicked with each step, her black dress swishing about. A scaled tail—fluffy at the end--poked out from under there, proof of dragonic heritage. Her long hair was slicked back, proudly displaying a pair of horns and the scales that crowned her forehead.

When she wailed, the skies turned stormy. When she beamed, the sun came out. Her expressions so lively as she spun around in her skirts, the fabric unfurling like the petals of a blossoming flower.

A princess both adored and feared by her people.

"She befriended an unruly ragamuffin.” Lilia's lips quirked, unable to fight them from tugging up. “He was without loved ones, so the princess extended a hand to him."

Lilia had stolen glances at her when he was convinced she was distracted. During royal processions, tending to the horses, when they crossed paths in the halls.

He never let himself stare for too long. To do so was nearly a death sentence. The guards would be upon him in an instant—or worse, she would.

But without doubt, she did.

She would look back, letting a telltale grin take shape when their gazes met.

Him, the nobody picked up by the royal family on a whim. A hopeless squire boy, a knight-in-training, a ward.

Him.

She noticed him.

Picking up her skirts, she'd made a beeline over. Grinning like a gremlin, she would inevitably set a tragedy into motion.

"Lilia, I'm sick of studying! Let's play instead."

"What? I don't want to. Besides, I have training to tend to."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. That's an order from your princess, so you can't refuse!"

“And that's the way the story always goes, a princess and her knight." He passed a glance at Silver. The infant's crying had quieted, and he returned the look, eyes wet with wonder.

Lilia sighed. "... I guess you wouldn't know that, would you? Well, it’s not as though she were your average girl.

"A wicked princess, that’s what she was. There was not a day when she wasn't making mischief and pulling the knight into it with her."

She had had many games, not all of them clearly defined or with rules. Sometimes she changed them on the fly. Sometimes she played without guidelines at all.

Pretend escalated into full-scale magical duels. Scavenger hunts spanned the entire castle grounds. They’d race to see who could relieve the gallery of the most apples in the least amount of time, dig through the treasury for the biggest gems.

On particularly lazy days, a roll across the lawn was enough to amuse them. Petals were plucked, sugary honeysuckle trapped between their teeth.

"You have something stuck in your hair," she'd tease him, picking loose petals out. "Let me get that for you, my most loyal retainer."

He'd hold still, as commanded, let her take as long as she wanted tidying him up.

When the guards combed the garden for them, they’d squish into shrubbery and lay low until the coast was clear. Sometimes their lids would grow heavy and collapse—and when they roused, stars had spilled into the sky, and they’d count constellations until the morning.

Starlight dappling her noble face, her fiery spirit ablaze.

How many diplomatic meetings had they crashed? How many ancient items had they broken? How many headaches had they collectively caused?

Lilia chuckled faintly.

… Those were the good old days.

He continued down the path laid before him, the paintings seemingly chugging along in slow succession. Both people and time passing him by.

"There was another as well. A clever, kind-hearted duke who also warmed up to the knight. The three of them formed a most formidable group.”

“Are you two at it again? You never stop, do you?”

The voice came from the top of the stairwell.

"Raverne. So good of you to join us," Meleanor said breathlessly—she had been running about. She slicked back a strand of glossy raven hair and beamed toothily. It wasn't the smile of a princess, but of a dragon yet to be tamed.

He quirked a brow. "Am I joining you? Whoever said that?"

“If you’re jealous, no need to play coy," she teased as the Dragon Duke descended the stairs. "You’re welcome to join us anytime.”

"The princess has already roped me into her antics," Lilia sighed. "Why not make it a party of three? We can all get scolded together later. Misery loves company."

"A tempting offer." Raverne lazily tilted his head to one side. He always had a languid way of moving, like a curtain of night veiling the day. "I think you've got me convinced."

"Why did you agree when Lilia asked and not when your princess did?" Meleanor demanded, stomping a foot.

Raverne shrugged. Effortless, defiant. "Perhaps you're not as charming as you think you are."

Any other person would have faced her wrath. Anyone else would have been forced to tango with lightning.

Not Raverne. He was too hard to stay mad at, and too easy to forgive. His presence alone smoothed over tensions, settled storms.

“He’s a dreamer,” the dusty old court advisors would remark with disdain.

“He’s a dreamer,” Lilia would say, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“He’s a dreamer,” Meleanor would sigh, the stars in her eyes.

Now, she just smirked at him. "I'll have to demonstrate to you just how charming I can be."

She had looked at Raverne differently in that instant. Her eyes did not glint at the sight of new prey to toy with, but with keen interest. There was something else too, an undercurrent of some tender feeling Lilia couldn't quite place.

Meleanor had never looked at Lilia like that.

Only Raverne.

He shook his head.

I should have known then... I was fighting a losing battle.

"With time, they grew ever closer. Unexpected feelings arose. The knight came to love the princess.” Lilia's feet came down upon the bramble that knitted over the floor. He could not feel it through his boots, but it felt as though he was still being pierced in the chest.

Silver blinked as Lilia plodded along. The gentle rise and fall drying his tears.

It had been a heady spring day, another escapade dodging servants and sneaking beyond the gardens. The flowers had blossomed, the same as the princess. She had grown lovelier by the day, her spitfire attitude untempered.

His flower of evil.

They were crossing a brook then, Meleanor lifting up her skirts to float to the other side, Lilia hopping on rocks to cross. He could have flown with her if he tried, but he was feeling cocky, had wanted to shown off the fruits of his training.

One misstep, and Lilia went flying forward, crashing into her. Their bodies collapsed against one another's as they roll, roll, rolled into a field, blades of grass and stray petals collecting on them. When they at last came to a stop, they laid on their lacks and laughed until their lungs hurt.

Lilia had stared at her again. Her smile, a powerful spell. She caught him in the act, demanded what he was looking at.

"You have something stuck in your hair," Lilia told her as they sat up. "Let me get that for you, my most benevolent princess."

"Stop stealing my lines," she giggled back.

Only if you stop stealing my heart first, he thought. But Meleanor was selfish, and once she had claimed something as her own, she refused to return her new treasure.

Lilia reached--and produced a single white daisy between his fingers. Kneeling, he offered the token to her. "Here. For you."

"Prankster. You planted that so you could appear impressive," Meleanor chuckled, accepting it. "... However, the gesture is sweet, so I thank you for it."

She held the flower to her nose and inhaled its scent. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, lips brushing the velvet-soft petals of the daisy. Wind weaving its hands through jet back hair, spots of sunshine dancing across her.

The entire universe was conspiring against him, it seemed.

He remained kneeling, remembering his place. Him, the knight. Her, the princess. But if that was the case, then weren't they perfectly suited for a fairy tale?

Lilia steeled his courage and let the words he had been holding in all that time loose. "M-Meleanor-sama! I... I like you. Not just as a friend. More than that. P-Please accept my feelings!"

Rare surprise dashed her beauty. A crack of light, dawn chasing away the darkness. “Lilia...?"

Here was his weakness, more terrifying than any enemy their country had faced. One young lady, and he folded like a paper crane. His heart in her hands.

And she squeezed.

"I'm not sure if I enjoy this joke. What we had before... I liked that."

More delicate than he had ever heard her speak. Like she was afraid of breaking this.

"This isn't a joke. I'm... I'm serious about you! Please answer me!!" he pleaded. "Will you be mine?"

At once, her face fell. The daisy, and his heart, slipped from her grasp.

"Oh, Lilia," she whispered, a hand clamped over her mouth. "I'm sorry. So, so, sorry."

A resounding rejection, chased by a dreadful loneliness. It had been nothing like the storybooks had promised. Lilia almost wanted to weep at his juvenile naivete.

He hushed, the awareness of it all consuming him.

So this is love.

Love, and the lack of it. How it hurt him so, as it had from had the start. He was always alone, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with.

Was that really love then?

The thought struck him like a fist to the gut.

I thought I loved you. But maybe that wasn’t true love. Maybe I was desperate to be loved back. To have someone to call my own, when I had no one at all before. Maybe I clung to the first person that showed the slightest bit of attention to me.

Even so, my heart ached for you. Longed for you. Believed it was meant to be. Dreamt of you. I wanted to give you my everything.

Lilia tucked the infant’s cheek to his chest. Felt the child’s warmth, his physical presence. The steady drum of something buried deep in him.

There was a wobbly yawn in the silence. Silver, tuckered out from crying, awaited the next part of the story.

The breath Lilia held released. The words, painful as they dropped from his lips.

“But she had eyes for another: the duke. The knight watched as his two best friends fell in love.” Lilia’s nails dug into the cloth that swaddled Silver. “The princess and the duke were happy, so the knight, too, was happy. And why wouldn’t he be? The woman he loved the most was going to marry the man he loved the most. It was a happy ending for the trio."

He had been summoned by the princess that fateful day. Returning triumphant from the battlefield, adrenaline running high, he hadn’t even bothered to make himself presentable first. His hair was a mess, his armor stained with the remains of slain foes.

She waited for him beyond the door.

“Melea… Oh.”

His princess was seated beside Raverne. She clung to his arm like a vine on a trellis, beaming like the moon on a cloudless night. Meleanor was drunk on the Dragon Duke.

He had never seen her so happy.

“Lilia! You’re here at last,” she called, waving him over. “Just in time.”

He glanced from her to Raverne. “In time for what?”

“For our exciting announcement.” Meleanor wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she gazed adoringly at the man beside her. Somewhat shy. “Would you like to tell him? Or should I? Ooh, this is quite exciting."

Raverne smiled softly—but Lilia could sense the slight discomfort in his eyes, the way they darted to his. Guilty acknowledgement, an awareness of betrayal.

I'm sorry, he seemed to say.

Lilia’s blood ran cold.

“I think you ought to tell him,” Raverne suggested. His voice was gentle, but they felt like a slash to the throat, cutting deep.

Then Meleanor announced it, unable to contain the secret any longer. "We're getting married!!"

She showed her left hand. The flash of the silver band upon her fourth finger was unmistakable. A ring, binding them with a promise.

Together forever, those two.

Lilia’s world violently tilted. The castle crumbling, the sky collapsing around him. Yet he, the trained soldier, dug his feet in and stood his ground.

You've been bested. Admit it. Admit defeat...!!

He said the only word he could.

"Congratulations."

Lilia could make out the light at the other end of the tunnel now. The world beyond the walls and castle corridors. He knew the end of the story was fast approaching, and how it would sap his strength, his will to fight on.

Still, he continued.

“The new couple were soon expecting a baby. Someone much like yourself.” Lilia prodded at Silver’s flabby chin. “You’ll be graced with his presence soon enough. The princess’s legacy, Malleus Draconia… My responsibility these past 160 years.”

Silver gurgled.

“So enthusiastic. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Lilia softly chided. “We fae and humans…”

… can never hope to understand each other.

"We fae and humans can understand each other," Raverne would have countered him. "We can make it a reality."

Tiny hands wrapped around Lilia’s finger. His touch, fragile.

You can afford to be hopeful. It drew a bitter chuckle from his handler. Brief reprieve before the plummet into something deeper and darker than the night that guarded them.

“… In a period of great unrest, the duke went missing. The princess was beside herself with worry—yet she remained stalwart for her people, and for their child. She wished every night for her husband to come home safely.”

They had magical might, but the humans had numbers. Each battle, an exchange of hard blows, casualties high on both sides. Reports rolled in as frequently as bodies did.

The people grew concerned, and so she had donned her mask to reassure them. Stoney faced and strong atop her tower.

“We will recover the missing couriers. We will secure our land and resources. We will beat back the outsiders. Briar Country will rise victorious in the war. Man will rue the day they came upon our shores. This, I swear to you as your princess!!”

Uproarious cheering and applause for her, their sovereign. A goddess of victory.

But he, watching from the shadows, knew better than that. All those years roughhousing with her, and he knew.

The face she showed the public and the face she made in private were two sides of the same card. Princess, mother, wife, friend. So many roles, all of them she played with such strength.

Meleanor only slipped when she thought no eyes were on her. When the servants had all retired for the night, and the moon and its stars came out.

Pressing his back to the wall, Lilia shielded his candle’s small circle of light from view. The hallway was drenched in darkness again.

A few paces away, her chambers to which she retreated every evening with her egg. With her dear little Malleus.

He listened.

Soft whimpers sounded from the abyss. Sounds and sights she would not dare show her people.

A leader such as she could not afford to be weak. The same leader who clutched her child to her and furiously prayed for a happy ending.

“Raverne, where are you? Come home… Come home, you idiotic, idealistic man!!”

CRASH!! BANG!! BOOM!!

Lightning lit up the sky. Lilia's flame trembled before righting itself.

Her voice dropped to a devious coo. "... I'm sorry, Malleus. Did that scare you? There, there. It's alright, your mother is here. Your father will be too... and when he does, I shall give him an earful for being away for so long!!"

He listened, for he was the only one who could. He listened until his lids began to droops. He listened until he had to tear himself away.

Before he knocked upon her door. Before he could tell her he was here, to please let him in. Before he could confess, “I miss him too.”

Hold her. Cry with her. Dream with her.

Ask for Raverne back.

“I will never wish for anything more than this. Please. Please…!!”

He had listened then, but no one had listened to him in return. Not even the stars.

Cruel celestial beings, he cursed—if they would not grant his wish, then he would take matters into his own hands.

Raverne…!!

Lilia swallowed thickly. His footfalls had grown heavy, as if weighed down by cinder blocks.

Silver sleepily gummed his finger. Oblivious as to what was to come.

“The conflict escalated.”

It had all happened so fast. Flying by, a blur. Time was not a concern to most fae—a year was barely the blink of an eye. Everything blending together into an indiscernible mush, taken down with ease.

But war never became more palatable. He had simply trained to become numb to it all. The strong smell of iron, the corpses piled high. It was sensory overload, the taste of too many things at once.

A crimson-eyed demon stood at the boundary of a burning village. Inhaled the fumes, smoke and flesh wrapped in fire. Witnessed the leaping flames stretching to the sky.

Who had lived here? Who had died here? Lilia thought of neither.

Had to, or he would fall to his knees and wail.

He held a small cloth doll, long black hair and red dress. Somehow it had survived the carnage. The lone survivor of a massacre. The rest had been slaughtered or evacuated from the area.

Abandoned, just as he had been.

His gaze lidded, fingers closing around the doll. "… As if it were a day. Everywhere I go, it will be in a blink of an eye. Far Cry Cradle.”

Memories arose, pulled by the strings of magic. They exploded across his vision like fireworks. Tinted green and blue and pink.

There was a ghostly child walking among the ruins, smiling as they clung to their mother, doll in their other hand. Daily life making the rounds in the village, helping with chores and playing games. Story events on fast forward.

Then came the knights stomping in their silver suits, masked fae cloaked in black. Buildings caving in, bodies falling, the clang of weapons colliding.

Screams.

Red, red, so much red.

The child horrified, dropping the doll. Staggering steps backward.

He barely cast an eye at them. Surveying the scene straight out of a hellish dream, he sought out a familiar shadow. Had he walked among them, seen the same things he had?

To no avail.

Lilia blinked, and it was the end.

He had not treaded along this path.

“… Damn it, Raverne.” He gripped the doll harder—as if to squeeze out its secrets. Making me hunt you down like this...

“General Vanrouge.”

Lilia did not turn. “Baul.”

“Sir.” He saluted to his superior. “The troops are rested. We are prepared for the final march to the Eastern Fortress.”

“… Yes, I understand. Let’s move out.”

He let the doll fall to the ground. His hands now freed, he pulled his hood up.

“General?” Baul called tentatively.

“The weather is chilly today, don’t you think?” The question, dismissive. Lilia slipped his mask back on—a beastly bat, glaring, teeth protruding.

His tears hidden from view.

Baul nodded. “… Yes, it is. I will remind the men to bundle up, sir.”

He looked away. “Good.”

Lilia firmly set his jaw. “War came knocking at their door, claiming many lives… and threatening to take the princess and her child too.”

There was something automatically off about the fortress when they slipped in. The infiltration too smooth, the corridors too quiet.

Combing the building yielded few results. There was no Raverne, no Dawn Knight. Only cowering staff and scattered humans in iron armor piloting sputtering metal monstrosities.

He cut them down the same as the rest. A mad boar, seeking a true challenge.

"Where are you?! Show yourself...!!" Lilia's demands were hollow in the empty hallways.

A demon snarling for sacrifice, the humans called him. A heartbroken dreamer, seeking the love that he had lost, his troops would whisper amongst themselves.

They found him at the end of a trail of carnage. Panting, sweating, hoarse. The lines between man and monster converged in Lilia Vanrouge.

Then the message was delivered, striking fear into the fearless fae.

"... What?"

The weapon in his hand faltered as realization ripped through him.

“Wild Rose Castle is under siege?!”

"She summoned her knight to her side.” Lilia’s voice quivered, growing small. You’re weak, he snarled at himself, so very, very weak.

Silver, too, seemed to sense the shift in him. He rubbed his cheek against the fae’s finger. Was he trying to comfort himself, or his newfound caretaker?

“The princess asked of him to take her child to safety somewhere far, far away. To forget her. It was her final selfish request for him.”

He had found her seated upon her throne, one arm curled around her precious egg, the other grasping her scepter. It was a sight so familiar, so safe, his chest lifted with relief. Lilia ran to her, calling her name.

"Meleanor-sama!!"

Her arm swept out in an arc, face twisted with fury. On command, a bolt of lightning crashed down in his path.

"Tch...!"

Tucking and rolling, Lilia darted off to the side, narrowly dodging the strike. Where he had once been was a massive scorch mark on the tiled floor.

“You’re LATE, Lilia!!” Meleanor roared. "What if something had happened to me or Malleus before you had arrived?!"

"Hah. As though you would allow that to happen," he scoffed. "You would kill the Silver Owls dead if I weren't here to stop you."

It was their usual game, a playful chase, the exchange of pokes and prods. Today, Meleanor had no such humor. Her expression turned from rage to one of eerie calm.

Lilia shivered.

"They've come for us," she whispered, hugging her egg tightly.

They had always known this day was a possibility. Now it was here, so palpable it was unreal.

From the bridge that ran to the castle came ugly chants twisted with hatred. Hot, oppressive, heavy. The sound like smoke snuffing out the daylight.

“Kill the witch!”

“Seize the castle!”

“Bring me the spoils!”

Horror raced through him.

“Let’s get you to safety, princess. Quickly, before they breach the drawbridge. My men can only hold them off for so long—”

She rose from her throne, descending from her dais. Her stride was not urgent, not eager to flee—the pace closer to the kind one might set for a garden stroll.

Meleanor faced her knight with a small smile. The same one she offered right before suggesting some sort of mischief.

“Lilia.”

“Princess…?”

“I refuse to run.” Her eyes flickered like green fire. “I will stand and fight.”

Panic pulsed in his ears.

“What?! Of all the foolish, hard-headed decisions you’ve made… This is absolutely the most foolish and the most hard-headed one!! I won’t let you go out there. I can’t. You’ll be…!”

A fist closed around his throat. The word died there, half-formed.

“What is it that you wish to say? That I will be hurt? Killed?” Meleanor challenged. So steadfast, so brazen. “You think so little of your princess.”

“This is NOT the time to argue the technicalities!! We need you safe and well, Meleanor-sama. Think of your people! Think of Raverne, your child...!"

Think of me.

She bared her teeth. “What is my power for, if not to protect those I love?”

Her gaze lowered to her egg, then to Lilia. “... You must flee to Black Scale Castle. They will not be able to follow you that deep into the mountain range.”

"I won’t abandon you. If you will stay, then let me fight alongside you as your sword and shield!"

"You have already done plenty for me. Do not mean to play the role of martyr too." Meleanor straightened, looking the part of a regal ruler. “You must go. I have guests to receive.”

"Argh, you stubborn princess!! How will you fight by yourself when you have your child to consider?"

"That," she laughed softly, "is a simple riddle."

His eyes sharpened with recognition of her next scheme. Meleanor wordlessly deposited the egg into Lilia’s arms. It was warm, humming from within the shell.

A life yet to be born, wishes yet to come true.

“I am entrusting you with Malleus,” she murmured sadly. “Please take care of him in his parents' absence."

“Don’t speak that way!!" Lilia snapped.

Don't speak as though we will never meet again, as though this is the final page of our story.

“In the first place, I could never… I can’t raise this child. I don’t know what it is like to love—not the way you and Raverne do. I’ve never had parents. I can’t be one, not when I don’t understand that kind of love!”

Meleanor’s face softened. “But you love me, don’t you? And you love Raverne too.”

He nodded. Slow, hesitant. “We were young. It was a long time ago,” Lilia mumbled.

“You love us,” she grinned, “so surely you are capable of loving our child, the product of our love—and Malleus will feel that. He will respond to you.”

“I’m not…”

“You are deserving of love, Lilia.” This, Meleanor spoke firmly. “Do not let yourself believe otherwise. I shall never forgive you if you do.”

The shouts were growing louder. The castle shuddered, stopped, and shuddered again. Doors being rammed at, forced open.

“Go,” Meleanor hisses. “This is an order from your princess. You cannot refuse.”

She had told that to him many times before. In dreams, in their games. Now, it hurt to hear more than any blow he had taken from battle.

Something in him gave, and instead of stepping away, he stepped forward. Inching closer to the woman out of his reach, but never touching her.

“I’m scared,” Lilia confessed, quiet as snowfall. “What if I lose you like we lost Raverne?”

Then I will be alone again.

“Be not afraid,” she reassured him. Meleanor did not meet him in the eyes.

“Do you promise we will meet again?” he pressed. The egg felt as molten as magma against his armor. “Do you swear?”

BAM!!

The grounds shook—the Silver Owls had successfully taken down a set of barricaded doors.

The cries had reached a fever pitch. Boots trampling upon the sacred grounds. Louder than ever.

Meleanor’s expression darkened, turning grave. It was the look of men at midnight, alone in the woods. Hollow, haunted, unsure of their fate.

No.

“No…!!”

He launched himself at his princess, a hand outstretched for hers. She made no effort to reach for his.

Did not have to.

Lilia fell short, his foot snagging on something. He instinctively twisted his body, shielding the egg in his arms from the floor. His gaze tore to his ankle, where bramble has sprouted up and tangled itself with him.

More thorns crept up around him, swallowing the ceiling, the walls. They latched onto his limbs, dragging him away, away from her. He grunted, struggling against them, against his fate.

Her doing, her magic.

"... Farewell, Lilia."

Tears prickled. His voice raised, pleading with her.

"Meleanor-sama, don't do this.”

She walked past him and ahead, forever out of his grasp.

"Farewell, Malleus."

He tried again, even knowing it was futile.

The bramble was weaving together, forming a tough wall between him and her.

"Meleanor-sama...!"

Through the last opening, a perfect circular window, she uttered her final words to him. That knowing, daring grin. Eyes beholding a gleam brighter than starlight.

"May the Night bless you."

And then she was lost to him forever.

"MELEANOR!!!"

Lilia laid a hand upon the ajar doors to the fallen castle. Fingers curled. At last, he had made it to the frame separating the inside from out.

“... That was the last time the princess was ever heard of. The end to her tragedy.”

He summoned his strength and broke free, entering the waiting night.

The moon, a spotlight for the two.

Silver bristled as he felt his first cool breeze. Still, he did not fully burrow into his blanket—for his glimpse of the stars stilled that instinct. That's right, Lilia thought, of course he would be enchanted. It's his first sky.

Many firsts.

"If you like that, you'll be excited to know that it's always changing. There are a number of new skies to see. It follows us wherever we go."

So we will never be alone.

The sky, so sprawling, so grand. So accustomed to everything and anything.

His small, lonely, insignificant existence was nothing compared to it.

Ah.

A single tear rolled down his cheek, landing on Silver's nose. The infant stilled, feeling the wetness upon his skin.

Lilia furiously wiped it away, then rubbed at his traitorous eyes. The sadness failed to recede, the memories welling. Promises, hopes, dreams dredged up. Yesterdays calling out to him.

"... You lied, Meleanor,” Lilia rasped into the night. “You told me I would be stuck with you for a long time. So why… Why did you have to leave us so soon?”

A thousand swords stabbed into his chest. The pain radiated outward, a bloody bloom.

"It’s not fair," he sobbed, hanging his head. "It’s not fair at all. Meleanor, Raverne… You’ve gone off together to a place I cannot reach, a place I cannot run to. You’ve left me behind. How am I meant to go on like this?”

I'm scared. I’m scared of the dawn and the tomorrows it will bring. Tomorrows without her and him in them. Tomorrows I must face alone.

More tears, plip, plip. A light drizzle upon Silver's face.

The infant stared up through aurora eyes. Not understanding, not knowing anything.

"How could I...”

Lilia’s voice caught on something sharp. He took a trembling gulp.

How could I learn to love you? When your kind, your very father, has taken nearly everything from me?

"... Hey, Silver."

The child cooed, as if in recognition of his own name. More likely, just responding to the sound of Lilia's voice.

Silver, the color of his hair. Silver, the shine of cloud linings. Silver, the start of something new.

"Tell me. What should I do?" Lilia's forehead and his touched.

Silver kicked his bendy little legs at the contact. Flailed his arms.

“Please guide me. I’m lost." He choked up. "I’m… so lost.”

Be the moonlight that guides me in the darkness. When all hope is lost and the stars have gone out, there will always be a silver light illuminating the path out of the black forest.

Show me the way, Silver.

“Show me if I can truly love you from the bottom of my heart.”

Lilia hugged the child to him. Felt his heartbeat, the same throbbing warmth that had radiated from Malleus’s egg.

After all that time alone amid the bramble… He was here. He was alive.

Up until her final moments, she had been thinking of them. Of this. The people she cared for, a baby not yet born.

The love he had let go, the love he had lost, the love he was he had to learn… It slipped away from him so easily, like grains of sand sifting between his fingers.

Lilia sighed with his entire body. The wind, drying his tears. He looked again at the child he had taken.

Silver giggled when he saw Lilia’s face. The boy’s eyes were clear. An unclouded, colorful aurora.

A weight in his chest lifted.

“… Did you enjoy that sad story?”

No answer, but a bop on his nose. Unintentional, he was sure.

Lilia rubbed at the place where he had been struck. There was no wound, no mark. Just a rapidly fading warmth where Silver's small fist had connected.

“… Silly thing,” he groused. In spite of himself, a stuttering chuckle rose from his throat. “If it will keep you from making needless noise, then I will tell you as many stories as you like. You need only promise to not laugh if I shed another tear.”

Silver squealed—close enough of a confirmation for him.

Lilia tried smiling. The corners of his mouth quiver before giving up.

Meleanor’s parting words floated to him. “May the Night bless you.” With that, it was the end of her tale.

The very same words uttered anew, a blessing for the boy once blonde. A fresh chance, the beginning of a new story.

Lilia looked to the horizon.

The first rays of sun were peering through the darkness. Gold streaking black in small slivers. Dawn had arrived.

A new chapter to their fairy tale.

[littlejuicebox]

Midnight Chimes

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: Pre-BG3. You are an apothecary on holiday, visiting your family in Baldur's Gate. You happen upon a certain silver-haired rake, and think perhaps he isn't what he seems. Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 2.3K Notes: Playing around with a little something different. Tried to keep this GN but please lmk if you caught something! :)

-----

The bell sounded its subtle chime above the tavern door; your buzzed gaze drifts from the ink-splotched pages of the book in front of you as you assess the newcomer. A cold gust of winter air sneaks in behind the elf now entering the tavern, and you shiver before pulling your fur coat more snugly around your frame. As you do, you realize you’ve seen that particular elf around here before. It had been several years, not since you were a lowly apprentice at the apothecary shop down the street… but you’d recognize that head of perfectly coiffed silver hair anywhere.

Had it really been almost ten years since your father threw that very same stranger out of the family tavern and forbade him from coming back? Admittedly, the elf looked like he’d hardly aged a day in all that time, but you supposed that was far from unusual for his race.

Pristine silvery hair, annoyingly attractive and all too aware of that fact, holding himself with a palpable air of haughty confidence… yes, he was exactly as you remembered from those many moons ago. You were just a youngling then, not but twenty, and back then your eyes had tracked the rake and his behavior with suspicious curiosity, just as they did now.

You’d been a server all those years ago, working nights at your parents’ tavern for tips and studying at Valindra’s Vials during the day. He’d been somewhat of a regular, always leaving with some being or another wrapped in his charismatic spell, and always waltzing in a few days later entirely unattached, as if that being never existed. A rake through and through.

And then one day, father had thrown the rake out for pickpocketing, forbidding him from ever returning. Years flew by, you completed your apprenticeship and moved to Waterdeep, only to return on holidays to visit your family and endure constant badgering about settling down and finding a spouse… and you’d all but forgotten the silver-haired elf.

Yet here he was, as if nothing had changed, and as rakish as ever. Father no longer tended the bar on weekends, so no one was around to recognize the man and throw him out on a decade-long ban… besides you. And honestly? It didn’t seem worth disturbing the last few hours of your holiday on such melodramatics. In your mind, a paying patron was a welcome patron as long as they kept their sticky fingers to themselves.

The silver-haired elf enters the warmth of tavern and meanders about, glossing his scarlet eyes over the crowd before ordering something from your cousin behind the bar.

You turn your attention back to the book and the notes you’d been penning in the margins, a nearly empty glass of wine and barely eaten sweet roll your only company. You pick off another piece of the pastry and pop it into your mouth before flipping the page of your tome. Hopefully mama and papa would be in bed by the time your cousin closed the bar… and you could sneak into your room without any further harassment from those two.

Family was everything to you, and you loved your parents dearly, but during every holiday visit you were quickly reminded why you’d originally left for Waterdeep. Things became stifling after about a week in that tiny apartment, and you were more-often down in the tavern than up in the living arrangements above it toward the end of your stay. Distance truly did make the heart grow fonder in your case; you were itching to get back to the solitude of home and away from the relentless line of questioning from mama and papa. Thankfully, you’d be back on the road to Waterdeep come morning and done enduring the inquisition until the next holiday.

You see the rake slide into the seat next to you out of your peripherals, and he opens his mouth, no doubt to shoot you his best line, but you cut him off with a quick and firm, “Nope. Not interested.”

He’s stunned. Baffled. It’s written on his face as you turn to address him head on, your narrowed eyes meeting his red ones squarely and unabashedly. The elf’s mouth is hanging open; he shuts it and squints in your direction for a mere moment. Then, he takes a sip out of whatever is in his goblet and narrows his vermillion eyes at the contents inside instead... not a fan of the drink, it seems.

The stranger decides to throw away whatever poor line he was going to use on you. Instead, his gaze flickers down to the book in your hands and takes note of the new conversational material. He is clearly not going to be dissuaded by your first rejection.

“What are you reading, darling?” The silver-haired elf asks, his voice resembling something of a purr. He leans just a bit closer, faking interest in the pages as you feel his hand slip nearer to your thigh.

“A book, darling. Ever seen one before?” You responded flatly, truly in no mood for whatever game this was and pointedly pushing his hand out of your personal bubble. You snap the book shut and stare at the silver-haired elf incredulously, placing the tome in the space between your bodies as a barrier.

Something about your response caused the rake to laugh in absolute delight, as if being outright rejected had never happened to him before. He was seeming to enjoy this little exchange. You, on the other hand, were not.

“Look — what’s your name?”

“Astarion.”

“Look, Astarion, I can promise you I am not interested. I’m not playing hard to get, I’m not playing coy. You may not remember me, but I remember you… my family owns this tavern and I worked here years ago, before my father threw you out… or did you forget that technically you’re banned? I know your game; in fact, I’ve seen you play it more than once. There are plenty of fine people in this establishment that cannot take their eyes off you. So if you’re looking for a lay, take your pick of the low hanging fruit and bugger off.”

Astarion is silent, but his eyes twinkle in entertained delight around the edges, a small smirk dancing on the corner of his mouth as he appraises you. He hums softly and takes another sip of his drink before glancing around the room. Sure enough, there are more than a few patrons with their sights quite obviously set on the rake and whatever talents he may possess, but he rolls his eyes at the gawkers and turns his attention back to you. Finally, Astarion breaks the silence with a low murmur, quite intent on continuing whatever interaction this is.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering why the hell every word that comes out of his mouth sounds like the most salacious thing you’ve ever heard.

“And what if I’m not looking for a lay, hm? What if… I’m looking for a riveting intellectual discussion? Is that more up your alley, darling?” Astarion asks, that cocky eyebrow lifting in something of a challenge.

You sigh. Admittedly, "riveting intellectual discussion" wasn’t something you often came across while visiting your family; it was certainly more up your alley than whatever half-assed lines he thought he might throw like bones to a dog. And... it would be nice to have someone to share a decent conversation with for once, if the rake could actually stand up to the challenge.

“Fine.” You mutter before downing the rest of your wine and gesturing to your cousin, who was now watching you from the bar with vague curiosity, for a refill. Astarion smiles before tapping the cover of your book with long, lithe fingers.

“Notable Poisons and Toxins of the Sword Coast?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Looking to murder someone, perhaps?"

“I’m an apothecary.” You explain with a dismissive wave of your hand.

This intrigues the elf even further and he leans closer to you, this time genuinely, which makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He rests his head on his hand as he watches you, bidding you with a small gesture to continue on. You aren’t interested in a rake you tell yourself, even though he’s somehow even more attractive up close.

“I sell mostly perfumes, soaps, and basic medicinals for ailments in Waterdeep nowadays. Poisons and antidotes aren’t a particularly big seller... but I still prefer to remain up to date on the latest information.”

“Do you know of any poisons that can kill the undead?”

Your brow furrows. What an exceptionally odd and particular question. But then again, this man did promise intellectual conversation, and discussing bread and butter poisons would’ve been far from riveting to you. Perhaps he was truly interested… or at least actually attempting to pursue an intellectual conversation, though most people you interacted with showed much less interest in your craft. At any rate, you were happy for an opportunity to showcase your knowledge.

“A positoxin would do the trick. Difficult to make and difficult to come by, though… and ridiculously expensive, to boot.” You murmur, taking a sip from your newly filled goblet.

Astarion nods and hums, the gears behind his eyes turning and processing thoughts you cannot read. He cocks his head slightly, raising that ridiculous eyebrow in that simultaneously captivating and arrogant way of his. His voice comes out low, tone carrying notes of teasing playfulness. “And what about you, darling? Do you think you’re… skilled enough to make this positoxin?”

“Yes.” You murmur confidently, and yet you blush. You know your skill set to be strong, sure, but it was unusual to be placed in a position where you actually had to display that confidence. Especially to a strange rake you just met that very night.

Astarion laughs again and shakes his head. “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you? Then, tell me how you would go about it.”

You continue on for several minutes, you don’t really know why, apart from the fact that Astarion is absolutely engrossed in everything you’re saying and it’s the first time anyone has actually listened to you prattle on about potions. You inform the elf that the art of positoxins is notoriously difficult and would take several weeks and a handful of hard to come by ingredients to brew just one vial. Astarion bids you to go on as he finishes his goblet, asking all the right questions to keep you talking and soaking up every ounce of information as you continue.

The conversation does not lull; you feel the passion and excitement in your voice grow as you become less guarded. The rake proves to be a wonderful audience, able to follow along with your level of intellect and interject his own knowledge in only the way an educated person could. Yet he was content to let you take the lead and just listen. It was surprisingly refreshing to have someone really hear and understand you… and actually take interest in something you were fascinated by instead of outright dismissing it or just nodding along.

Soon enough the clock tower chimes midnight and your cousin is yelling last call to everyone in the bar, much to the disappointment of the poor drunkards. Astarion’s eyes, previously lulled into a soft and cat-like gaze by your ramblings, snapped into a wide-eyed, forlorn expression. “Gods, is that really the time? I-I have to go.”

He practically jolts out of the seat, his tone hurried and gestures fidgety. “I-it was nice meeting you, uh…”

“I’m Tav.” You respond softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you study the man and his sudden change in demeanor.

“Tav. Yes, lovely to meet you. Perhaps I’ll see you around here tomorrow and you can tell me more about positoxins or perhaps some alchemical cure for vampirism… seems you have a plethora of knowledge to share and I’m all pointy ears.”

Your face falls, and for the first time you realize how much you wish that were a true possibility. “I return to Waterdeep tomorrow, I’m afraid. I can’t leave the shop in the hands of my apprentice for too long.”

Astarion’s expression matches yours and you sigh in disappointment as you drop your hand into your bag and start rustling around inside. Perhaps you’d misjudged the elf and he hadn’t been exactly what he seemed; you’d quite enjoyed his company, in the end. You pull out a small card with your shop address on it; there is a sample vial attached to the card by a jute cord.

“Here. This is my address in Waterdeep. Feel free to write. I come back at least once a year to visit my family… but sometimes more, if there’s something worth coming back for.” Your hint is subtle, but you hope he catches your meaning. Your fingers brush his as he takes the card, and you swear you feel the tingle of connection. Or perhaps that’s the two glasses of wine talking.

The silver-haired elf takes the offering, looking down at the inscription and running his fingers over the embossed words before he tucks everything into his pocket. “And what’s in the vial?”

“A sample. Like I told you, I primarily sell perfumes and soaps nowadays. That mixture is one of my favorites… a delightful combination of bergamot and rosemary... and a secret ingredient I won't name. Try it out and tell me what you think in your letter."

Astarion shakes his head just slightly, almost imperceptibly, a faraway look in his eyes. The clock tower bells chime again, their second call for the midnight hour, and he snaps back into the present. The elf turns to look at you one last time, eyes boring into yours with such shocking intensity. “I really must be going. It was… truly a lovely surprise to meet you, Tav.”

He grabs your hand in his shockingly cold grip, gives it a squeeze, and swiftly exits. You hear the tinkling of the doorbell and watch as the rake runs down the alley before dodging into the shadows and altogether disappearing from view.

You grab the goblet he left behind, along with your own dishes, and walk behind the oak bar to help your cousin close up as the final patrons make their drunken exits in a cacophony of grunts, arguments, and off-tune singing.

“Who was that?” Your cousin asks, nodding his head toward the seats you and Astarion just occupied moments ago as he wipes down the bar and all manner of filth left by the patrons that night. “A potential suitor, perhaps? Your parents will be thrilled.”

“Oh… I think probably not. A rake of a man, to be sure. He was quite cute, though. In another life… I think we could’ve been friends.” You respond as you begin with the dishes, the warmth of the water washing away the coolness imbued in your fingertips from the elf’s touch.

Tomorrow you’ll head home to Waterdeep and the solitude of your apothecary shop. Part of you will wait for a letter that doesn't show, and you'll shove your disappointment deep into the back of your mind, never once admitting it to yourself. But fate spins along as it should, and a few years from now you'll be standing on an unfamiliar beach after a horrible crash, the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot drifting in the air.

——-

A/N: This was originally meant to be a one shot, but I loved the premise of the piece so much that I wanted to try and turn it into a series. Read the first chapter here.

[meebs-sleeps]

Hiii, and welcome to tumblr! I’d love to see what your take on Yandere octavinelle, together or separate as you please :)

OMS OMS OMS MY FIRST REQUEST???? YESSSSSS AHAHSGSBSSV

I WILL TRY MY ABSOLUTE BEST FOR YOU ANON!!!!!

P.S: I think I got a bit carried away...

TW!! Yandere content and mentions of violence!! Plus book 3 spoilers!

Yandere Octavinelle with Darling reader 💕

Note: If you see favoritism, no, no you don't.

For Azul I'd think he would notice you after his overblot. The way you worked with your friends to defeat him was intresting considering that they were residents of the infamous Night Raven College.

Not to mention, you didn't seem disgusted at all with his octomer form nor his embarrasing past and insecurities... In fact, you forgave him of his actions and guided him into a more honest path... Sort of.

So obviously he wanted to know more about you.

Before, he never really bothered with you, he saw you as just another pawn to be manipulated.

But now...

He would find ways to spend time with you or observe you from afar... call it curiosity if you will.

And for the past few weeks now, you just couldn't help but notice that there always seemed to be a octavinelle student within your vicinity. Mostly Jade or Floyd.

Sure, that must be normal since you are in a big school and are bound to walk into other dorm members, but you couldn't help but feel... watched...

And everytime you 'coincidentally' bumped into Azul and you greeted him out of politeness... and... Oh dear... why was his heart beating so fast??

It didn't take long for him to realize that he grew to favor you more than others. At first, he was in denial, that it couldn't possibly be. But when he looked at you, your perfect smile, your perfect face and eyes... Ah...

And as time goes by, Azul's twisted love strengthened each day. He felt drawn to you, like the tide to the moon.

But just like the moon, you were out of reach. Surrounded by your friends (who basically stuck to you like greedy leeches) the octomer could feel his blood boil.

Azul had to find other ways to get you in his grasp. He did extensive research on how humans courted with one another. Day and night, the man worked tirelessly to earn your heart.

It started off small. Each day, you would come to find a small gift at your front door. Inside the little box were elaborate jewels and shells with lovely pearls shrewn about.

But as time flew by, the gifts got bigger, more beautiful and eye catching. They grew with Azul's desperation and obsession.

With you being you, a normal human from another world, you were confused. Your friends didn't help at all either, teasing you because of the gifts, saying things like 'Oooo so who is your boyfriend huuhh?~' and they always wanted to see what you got next.

But after a while, the gifts stopped. It was just... calm for a few days. Your friends were also quite confused. You couldn't help but feel a bit dissapointed.

Meanwhile, Azul was just trying to figure out other ways to woo you. He may be a patient man, but seeing you be so close with your friends...

One day, you got a letter with a lovely bouquet.

Beautiful words were sprawled across the paper, giving subtle hints of who it could be, and how they love you so...

Honestly, you didn't know how to feel about it... You were qurious about who the person was behind all these presents.

But maybe your new friend Azul could help out? He started to hang out with you and your friends for some time now until it felt almost natural to have him around.

The gifts were obviously sea themed, so maybe he could give you some insight on this situation.

Your friends were suspicious, of course, but you saw this as Azul turning over a new leaf.

But you didn't see how he started to separate you and your friends, like tentacles that swarmed over their target, to never let them see the light of day again.

Nor the lovesick look on his face whenever he watched you when you were focused on something else.

Your friends on the other hand... they did though. And from past events, they weren't going to trust Azul again.

So they tried their best to not let you and Azul be alone.

Azul, was of course, enraged by this.

How dare they..? How dare they take you from him!?

So obviously, the octomer had to get rid of these inconveniences.

Jade and Floyd are going to love their new task...

"Ahh... my dear angelfish... you look lovely as always... Hmm? You want to know where your friends are? Well they didn't want to come with us today, so it's just going to be you and me~"

Now the mysterious Jade... hmmm...

If it were where the whole octotrio would fall for you, I'd say he would find Azul's sudden intrest in you intriguing, and when Azul requested for him to observe you, well, how could he possibly decline?

But if he fell for you separately, maybe it's because of your past?

I mean, a human from an entirely different world? He was surprised that no one else saw the golden opportunity before them.

Either way, it started with him eyeing you with curiosity. And he asked you questions. He didn't really expect to be interested in you for long. Even if you were an otherworldly presence, you were also quite plain in his eyes.

So imagine his surprise when he cannot get enough of you.

There was this thing about you that was just so addictive to him, like a drug.

And as time flew by, the eel-mer found himself to be fascinated by everything you do. The way you smiled, moved and sounded was just so... alluring.

Like his love for mushrooms, he wanted to know everything about you. What you were scared of, what you liked to do in your free time, were you an active person or would you prefer to stay in bed all day? He needed to know.

Sooner or later, you found yourself having a shadow trailing behind you.

He became more obvious with his intrest in you, and his questions changed from polite things to downright creepy.

Even when you were alone, you could still feel his eyes observing you.

Both you and your friends were uncomfortable by it...

Jade on the other hand found your peevishness amusing. He watched as you slowly corrupted his already twisted mind. Soon, everything was just you, you, you.

Jade couldn't get enough of you. Everytime he saw you, the world around him changed. Like he watched everything through clouded eyes till your rays of light caressed him so dearly...

He wanted everything about you. From your heart to your flesh down to your very soul.

Like a starved man taking a mere bite of a king's meal, he was enraptured. Intoxicated.

Even if he is the calm twin, he is still a Leech. And he doesn't like sharing...

At first, he would try to coax you to spend more time with him. To herd you away from the people you hold dear.

If that didn't work, then sly words and cold glares at your companions behind your back most certainly does the trick.

And when you are alone and desperate for companionship..?

Well, he will be waiting for you with open arms~

"I am so sorry about your friends my dear, but don't worry, I am here for you. I will always be here."

Silly ol' Floyd with his not so silly affections... Where did it all begin?

When you looked at him with your cute little eyes, or when you faced of so many dangers so bravely? Or maybe it's when you don't seem to be quite as scared of him like other people?

What a strange shrimpy you are~

I'd say you had him interested when he first saw you, but he wasn't really in the mood to scour you out back then and just forgot about you.

Till you caught his eye again (wether it be from Azul or he just saw you minding your own business).

So obviously, being the silly man that he is, he walked up to you and just hanged from your shoulders— even if you are taller or shorter than him —and giving you and whoever you were talking to a good ol' scare.

He buzzes around you like a bee, bothering you and your companions like a little shit.

Floyd is unpredictable. His whirlwind of emotions make him hard to decipher and even harder on how to handle him. He is a pain to deal with, but you endure it for the sake of leaving this world on everyone's good side.

Sometimes he'd come barging in your group, crazy laugh in tow and squeezing the shit out of everyone with excitement (you included).

Or he would be all sad and would just droop over you like a tall sack of potatoes. If anyone asked what was wrong he would just snarl at them.

This boy wants your attention 24/7. When in a crowd, he would look for you and hope you look for him too.

When he played basketball, he would be on his absolute best to steal your attention. He would jump from high areas, do crazy things and even squeeze you super tightly.

Just look at him. Please, please, please just look at him please-

He thrives when you give him attention, even if it is just a hello wave when you see him walking in the hallway of Night Raven.

I'd like to think Floyd is the last person in the octotrio to realize his feelings. At first he will think you are just special, making him instantly happy when he sees you.

Till he notices that he gets also super excited at the thought of you.

And when he finally realizes that 'Hey... maybe you don't see them as a friend anymore.' He'd be pissed as hell.

How dare you make him feel this way! You are such a bad and annoying shrimpy! How dare you! How dare you! How dare you!

Floyd would probably come and yell at you before he leaves you alone.

You won't see him for maybe like a few weeks or months before he comes back.

During that time while he is away, he'd think of you and miss you dearly. At first he hated it. He hated seeing you from the corner of his eye, he hated how you haunted his dreams and thoughts every second of the day.

He hated this aching burn in his chest whenever he thought back to your expression when he lost his temper on you, he hated it so much that he almost cries himself to sleep every night

And with Floyd being Floyd, the whole school noticed his moping and rumors skyrocketed to brand new heights.

Even you heard about those rumors, but you didn't really go and ask Floyd himself due to his outburst a while back.

Till he barged into your life again like nothing happened. Full of giggles and smiles, the mereel tackled you and hugged you tightly and spun you around.

He was back to his normal self again!

And since he realized his feelings, he wants to keep you aaaaallllll for himself~!

Unlike Jade and Azul who used sly and downright dirty tactics, Floyd just beat anyone who merely glanced at you into a pulp.

You are his shrimpy! Only he is allowed to look at you! D:<

He disliked how almost everyone seemed to like you (his words not mine) and how they all just climbed around you like the desperate bottom feeders they are. If only he could lock you away forever and keep you to himself...

Hmm...

Under the guise of wanting to show you something in his room, he leads you to a trap you will find to be very difficult to escape...

"Hey shrimpyy~ I wanna show you something reeaallyy cool in my room. But shh! Don't tell anyone! It's going to be a surprise~!"

But if they all love you? Well, these three would cheat, steal and kill whoever looks at you strangely. They may be a unit on their own, but together..?

And when they finally, finally have you? Well they might turn to each other and fight for your hand, or... well, you wouldn't mind being shared would you?

If I made any mistakes feel free to correct me!!! :DDD Wether it be spelling, grammar or the way I wrote the characters, please let me know!

[night-raven-tattler]

Hello Mx Tattly! I really enjoyed your ideal types post involving Heartslabyul characters. I like the idea of Riddle liking his significant other being someone earning his respect. So in this request, if they are open, of Riddle having a Yuu!Female reader s/o that is naturally gifted prodigy in fencing & swordsmanship, making her a bold, fiercely talented swordswoman who usually wields double swords (but is just as well with one). Both mostly got closer after his overblot since she was involved in defending him (somehow).

Just headcanons of Riddle having a s/o that is physically stronger than him (and affectionate when just the two of them since she also isn’t much of a pda person)

Extra: After getting to know a bit more of Diasomnia, she also manages to go under Lilia’s training after finding out he trains Sebek and Silver because she wants to continue sharpening her skills and seeing any form of improvement.

(She’s originally an OC of mine but idk if you take OC requests and didn’t wanna assume, so 😭)

Anyway thank you! I’m sorry if I wrote a lot.. 😭

Hello anon! Mx Tattly appreciates your kind words! Currently they don't do OC requests, however she might consider answering such requests in the future. He is sorry if the writing is not what you envisioned, especially since she didn't include Riddle being "protected" per se by the reader character, as they considered their narrative choice is one Riddle would appreciate more. He is also grateful for the brainrot you caused, as they are an enjoyer of sword weilding characters themselves. Hopefully you can still enjoy!

A knight fit for a queen

Characters: Riddle × F/GN!Reader* (romantic, pre-established relationship)

*the reader character has no gender defining charactersitics mentioned

Warnings: swords, book 1 spoilers, violence, mentions of hospital-like settings

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Ace laughed in your face when you told him, Deuce and Grim to wait in front of Ramshackle for you to get something, and you came out of the dorm with a pair of swords dangling from your waist, supporting your dominant hand

“Why are you bringing a sword with you? Where did you even find that thing?!”

It was an older pair of swords you found abandoned in one of the Ramshackle rooms, mere days before Ace and Deuce decided to challenge Riddle for his housewarden spot

Something about them told you they would be useful in the situation at hand

But even after hearing your reasoning, Ace still laughed in your face

Boy, was he proven wrong not too long after...

Riddle was just punched by Ace and, before your brain was able to catch up to what was happening, Riddle spiraled out of control

Everyone was trying to reason with him, yet it seemed as if he completely shut out everyone around him

Everyone turned from disobedient students into living targets of his fury

The gravity of the situation finally sunk in when Riddle summoned the rose trees all around the maze and ordered them to attack Ace

Yet, before thinking in through, you jumped in front of Ace and sliced away the threatening branches

They detached from the trunk, turning into cut pieces of cards as they flew past you and your friend

If you wouldn't have stepped in, Trey’s signature spell would’ve kicked in too late

The sky darkened as Riddle’s inner world started to collapse, bringing chaos and destruction to the outside world as well as he overblotted

“In my world, I am the law. I am order made manifest! The only response I will accept from you is ‘Yes, Housewarden Riddle’! All who defy me will lose their heads!”

And, while your Heartslabyul friends and Grim decided to face Riddle head-on, you decided to stay back and protect any incoming danger towards the students the Headmage was evacuating

The crowd of students around the magic mirror diminished, so you returned to the main place of action

Which turned out to be a good call, as a lot of flying debris caused by rogue spells kept flying towards the students

And you managed to redirect any incoming danger with your mysterious swords

Just in time to see Riddle collapse to the ground

You stayed close to Riddle when he woke up and was taken to the nurse's office, and visited him as often as you could

While you felt a personal duty to help out Ace and Deuce repair their destroyed labyrinth, you also wanted to keep Riddle company, mostly to assure him there were no hard feelings between the two of you after what happened

…But your intention were not as clear as you intended initially

Riddle was mostly silent and cautious, and so were you, which made things kind of awkward

Compared to his wary nature, you were trying to be at least a little bit comforting

And he finally realised your intentions when you brought him some tea in a thermos

He was truly astonished by your gesture, even touched by your small kindness

It was some milk tea with herbs he didn’t quite recognise, sweetened with a bit of honey

Bits and pieces of a memory of his crying about milk tea with honey flooded his mind, piecing together the puzzle of your intentions

Not only did you remember such a small thing, but you also went out of your way to cater to him while he was still atoning to his mistakes

Shortly after, Heartslabyul started getting back to its orderly peace as the unbirthday party put together was fast approaching

And you were very satisfied with the peace and quiet

What you didn’t expect, however, was Riddle’s sudden summon to his room directed to you and you alone

You entered Riddle’s room, and he turned around in his chair towards you, leaving the paperwork he was looking over unattended

He was back to working as diligently as ever, something you weren’t sure was appropriate so early in his recovery

But Riddle’s face looked serene and at peace despite his serious eyes, and you decided not to comment

“I believe it is time for the two of us to have a proper conversation about what happened. I know your visits while I was bedridden were… not the most conversation-filled, but I would rather not leave any rocks unturned.”

As gentlemanly as ever, Riddle guided you to an empty seat in his room, and he sat down only after you sat down yourself

“I want to apologise to you for what you witnessed.”

You wanted to interject, but Riddle stopped you with a gesture of his hand

“As a housewarden, my duty is not only to maintain order within the group of students under my guidance, but also to ensure their safety during a moment of crisis. As I was the, um… ‘crisis’ in this case, I was unable to do so. I apologise for falling short on my duty, and for having you make up for my mistakes.”

You were taken aback by the apology, but Riddle was not done yet

“I would also like… to thank you.”

You listened as Riddle poured his heart out to you

“I have heard you were a main participant in ensuring the safety of the student body. It might be hard to believe, but…”

Something in Riddle’s eyes softened, before his gray eyes regained their composed coldness

“I am not cold hearted. I may be harsh, but I care about my card soldiers.”

And you were aware of that

While you helped the Heartslabyul students put themselves together, you’ve heard the grateful stories of a relieved group of students who praised Riddle for his dedication and meticulous nature

They told many stories about Riddle taking time off his schedule to tutor struggling students, who always did his best to offer guidance and who never raised his voice while explaining to students how to tend to the Heartslabyul animals

“I may have fallen short, but you have proven yourself to have a good head on your shoulder in times of need. I thank you for ensuring the safety of my card soldiers.”

You took a few seconds to process his words before formulating your response

“I was just… fulfilling my duty.”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, I am the ‘prefect’, right? I also have a duty to the students. I just did my best to act according to my role.”

Riddle’s eyes widened slightly, and something sparkled in his eyes as a proud smile blossomed on his face

And your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat, being witness of the first time you gave Riddle a reason to smile

“That’s a very elegant answer. You sure are an interesting person, Prefect.”

As time went on, you and Riddle became good friends

Your friendship mainly consisted of you finding your way to Riddle and striking conversations as you followed him around

You didn’t have a particularly threatening aura, but the swords you used during the Heartslabyul event became a permanent part of your uniform

Initially the teachers were not too on board with a permanently armed student, especially since the student body was filled with rambunctious individuals

Yet, Riddle vouched that you knew when it was appropriate to use the swords, putting the professor’s minds somewhat at ease

Lines started blurring little by little as your attachment to Riddle became more obvious, and Rook’s teasing towards Trey about him “losing his spot as Riddle’s knight” started reaching your ears

But you didn’t quite mind

And neither did Riddle

He was, if anything, in awe at your abilities

Riddle was amazed at how natural swords looked in your hands, how your sways and slashes were always forceful yet elegant, wide yet precise

And the sweaty sight of you after a training session did, admittedly, leave Riddle with a racing heart and mind

But, above all, he admired your dedication to improve despite having no guidance

And, with a little push from Ace and Deuce, he put together a plan to help you in that regard

You just entered your dorm when the most unusual gathering of people was seated in your living room

While Ace and Deuce were around often enough to become honorary Ramshackle members slash dorm decoration, Riddle, Sebek and Silver were not part of your usual guest list

You were surprised to hear the invitation extended by a sleepy Silver and a very reluctant Sebek for you to join their training sessions

And it was revealed how Riddle used his connection to the two guards as fellow equestrian club members to ask them for a favor

After you all settled some details with the guards, they took their leave, and exited the dorm as Sebek kept yelling about not allowing you to fall short

And being the teasing pieces of work that Ace, Deuce and Grim were, they left you and Riddle alone as they winked at you

“Is this your way of making sure I keep ‘fulfilling my duty’ as the resident day saver and Hearstlabyul knight?”

Your teasing made Riddle throw you an unimpressed glance that was quickly replaced by a smile

“I am quite sure this will do nothing to diminish the use of your newly acquired moniker, but my priority is to ensure you keep honing the craft you are so obviously proud of.”

Riddle’s words were truly touching, and it was so like him to go out of his way to help the people he cared about…

“Besides, I don’t really mind the moniker. It must mean the students are starting to recognise your skill and dedication.”

That statement really made your heart skip a beat

You hesitated before you took Riddle’s hand into your own

“Well… If you don’t mind the nickname, then I don’t mind it either.”

And you brought Riddle’s hand to your lips, leaving a kiss so soft Riddle almost though he only imagined the soft press of your lips to his knuckles

He took his leave soon after your biggest show of affection yet, but you didn’t mind

Despite Riddle’s reddening face usually being considered a bad omen, you quite enjoyed the brilliant glow of red on his cheeks as he left your dorm

[delusionalmishka]

Blue Blood

Summary: After the turmoil at Driftmark, King Viserys attempted to mend family divisions by arranging a marriage between Alicent's son, Aemond Targaryen, and Rhaenyra's daughter, Lucenya Velaryon; when King Viserys died and the greens and the blacks war began to unravel, the arrangement fell through. On the brink of war, Lucenya was sent to Storm's End as an envoy. Aemond didn’t plan on letting his bastard bride slip through his fingers one more time. She’d owned him for his left eye.

Warning: uncle x niece relationship, extremely dubious consent, targcest, canon-typical violence, mild Fire and Blood spoilers, my warnings are not exhaustive, if you don't like it, don't open it!

Word count: 3,565 words.

Context: *A couple of things before getting into the chapter. Lucenya is basically the female version of Lucerys but a little older, a year younger than Jace, to be more exact and Rhaenyra was never pregnant with Visenya. Very dark fic, lowkey reverse harem-ish (i'm fully indulging myself, sorry not sorry) I don't sugarcoat things. Usual ASOIF violence and incest weirdness!!! You know what you are getting into!!! A couple of spoilers from the Fire and Blood book but nothing that will ruin your experience. Enjoy!!

Aemond Targaryen stood on the balcony of his chamber, his mind racing. The breeze licked his face and hair as his fist crumbled the piece of parchment in his hand, the crow that had just delivered it, quickly flew away, leaving no witnesses to the meeting with the prince, like it was carefully trained for; these special crows meant news from his spies in Dragonstone. 

He had just received word of Lucenya's impending departure to the North. A cold determination tempered combined with his rage, fire rushing through his veins. His predictions were right; as soon as Aegon rose to the throne, Lucenya Velaryon would be sent to Storm’s End to Beratherons as an envoy of war, them possibly North to the Starks. 

Aemond had promised himself that he would not let his promised bride slip through his fingers again, like she had done years ago, and he intended to keep that promise. 

As the first light of dawn broke over King's Landing, Aemond exited his chambers and descended the steps with purpose. 

This was valuable news. Aemond considered his plan carefully; There were great risks, but great rewards as well. Rhaenyra loved all of her bastard children, although everyone knew her only daughter was the one closest to her. Having Lucenya as a political hostage could make Rhaenyra and her loyalists bend. 

Maybe he could take her eye as well.  It would make his mother happy.

His grandsire and his mother would appreciate his quick thinking, he would end the war before it started. Vaghar was fast, he would be able to reach Storm’s End in less than a day.

{...}

Lucenya's eyes fluttered open, barely focusing on her surroundings. Pain coursed through her body with every harbored breath, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through her limbs. The room around her blurred and swayed, her ears ringed, the lingering grit of sand and blood from Storm's End still clinging to her skin and clothes.  

Her feverish mind conjured vivid visions, blurring the lines between reality and hallucination. In one moment, she saw her mother, Rhaenyra, pacing the halls of Dragonstone, her face etched with worry and regret. Rhaenyra's voice echoed in her ears, calling out her name, the desperation in her tone piercing through Lucenya’s haze. She could almost feel her mother's arms around her, a ghostly comfort in her feverish state.

In another vision, Lucenya found herself in the great hall of Winterfell. Her brother Jace stood beside Cregan Stark, Jace’s eyes were filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow, his voice a distant murmur as he spoke of rescuing her. She reached out, trying to call to him, but her voice was lost in the void, her fingers grasping at empty air.

The scenes shifted and twisted, leaving her disoriented and lost. She sees herself on a beach under a raging storm, the clouds looming ominously above her as she stumbled away from where she had landed, away from Arrax’s body. Shadows danced at the edge of her vision, and she heard the distant roar of dragons, their cries mingling with the howling wind. An enormous figure emerged from above, Vaghar landing —her uncle, Aemond, his sapphire eye gleaming with cold malice. He reached for her, and she recoiled, her heart pounding with fear.

Through the haze, she became vaguely aware of voices— sometimes muffled by the ringing in her ear, sharp and insistent. 

"How soon can it be done?" it was Aemond's voice, impatient, edged with urgency.

Lucenya struggled to comprehend his words, her fevered mind grasping at fragments of conversation. Another voice responded, softer and measured—it was the Maester.

"Prince Aemond, the lady is gravely ill. She needs rest and proper care if she is to recover. To discuss a wedding at this time is highly inappropriate. It is a miracle she survived."

Aemond's figure loomed closer, his face coming into sharp focus for a moment before blurring again. His expression was one of cold determination. "She will recover. And when she does, I want the wedding to take place immediately." 

A new voice entered the conversation, sharp and urgent. "This was reckless, Aemond," Lucy recognized that voice immediately. It was Alicent Hightower. "Attacking and kidnapping Rhaenyra’s daughter? Do you have any idea what this will provoke?"

"It had to be done," Aemond replied, his voice cold and unyielding. "We need leverage in this war. Lucenya is that leverage."

"You’ve endangered us all!" Alicent argued. "Rhaenyra will stop at nothing to get her daughter back. She'll burn King’s Landing to the ground!"

Before Aemond could respond, another voice joined the fray— Lucy also recognized this voice, it was Otto Hightower. "Aemond is right," he said calmly, his tone measured. "This move gives us a significant advantage. With Lucenya as our hostage, we have a powerful bargaining chip. Rhaenyra and her followers will be forced to negotiate."

Alicent turned to Otto, her gaze observed the girl in bed for a second. It was like Lucenya had gone to the battlefield: cuts, bruises, and burns were scattered around her face and limbs, her skin was still dirty with sand and blood and a thin layer of sweat covered her exposed skin. It was indeed a miracle that she had survived. 

"Father, you can’t be serious. This could escalate the war beyond our control."

Otto met her gaze, his expression resolute. "War is already upon us, Alicent. We must use every advantage we have. Lucenya’s presence here gives us a strong hand to play."

Alicent took a deep breath, clearly torn between her fury and the harsh reality of their situation. Rhaenyra would never forgive her for letting her son hurt her daughter like this. Their old affinity with each other was officially dead. 

After a long pause, the Queen Dowager spoke again. 

"We must move forward with our plans. Lucenya must be integrated into our family."

Lucenya’s blood ran cold at their words. She was a pawn in their game, a tool to be used in their quest to steal her mother’s throne. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but her body was weak, her injuries severe. 

Aemond's gaze flicked down to her, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, his expression softened, but it quickly hardened again. "You will pay, Lucenya," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "This is your destiny."

As the room spun and the fever tightened its grip, Lucenya’s mind drifted back into the depths of unconsciousness, her body unable to fight any longer. The last thing she heard was Aemond’s voice, resolute and unyielding. 

Her visions returned, more vivid and desperate. She saw her mother, Rhaenyra, scouring the air, her eyes wild with panic as she called out Lucenya’s name.

{...}

The knowledge of the secret ways behind the walls of the Red Keep had come in aid for Aemond and his purpose. Turning a few corners, he quickly arrived at his desired destiny: the temporary chambers of his bastard niece and the newest heir to Driftmark, Lucenya Velaryon. 

It was quite the evening at the Red Keep. Someone finally had the courage to say it out loud; his older sister was a whore and her children are bastards. Vaemond Velaryon lost his head because of it, but it did gave Aemond the satisfaction of having his niece and nephews around again. 

With silent, deliberate movements, Aemond gently pushed the false wall, the hidden mechanism yielding to his touch. He slipped through the small opening, his steps as quiet as a predator stalking its prey. The cold sapphire in his eye socket gleamed faintly in the dimly lit space, the flames of candlelight and the fireplace licked his skin lightly. His heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and rage, the obsidian shadows of the Red Keep cloaking his approach.

As he entered the chamber, Aemond's mind buzzed with thoughts, the jewel in his pocket seemed more heavy now. Aemond himself was not sure what drove him to invade his niece’s chambers. They both could get into trouble if they were caught, no matter his intentions. 

Lucy was not asleep, as he had expected, despise the late hour. Instead, she was awake, brushing her long brown curls at her vanity. The rhythmic strokes of the brush through her hair seemed almost hypnotic, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within Aemond. For just a second, Aemond allowed himself the luxury of observing Lucenya's beauty. 

Unfortunately, his niece had grown into her bastard features; the long brown hair and the almond brown eyes complimented her delicate face. She wore a long white nightgown that exposed her sharp collarbones and was see-through enough that Aemound could see the silhouette of her body through the fabric. She was indeed as beautiful as the rumors and whispers that made to King’s Landing and the rest of Westeros. Bards in King's Landing were kin to singing about her.

He stepped into her camp of vision, his presence announced by the cold gleam of his sapphire eye. Lucenya's hand froze mid-stroke, her almond brown eyes meeting his in the mirror. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken words and buried emotions.

"Aemond," she said quietly, her voice steady but with an edge of wariness. "What brings you here at this hour?" Unfazed by her uncle's sudden appearance. 

Aemond's lips curled into a semblance of a smile, though it was devoid of warmth. "You know why I am here, Lucenya. We have unfinished business."

Lucy turned to face him, her gaze unwavering, but Aemond could spot the hesitation in her eyes. "Is this about Driftmark again? About what happened when we were children?"

Aemond's jaw tightened, the sapphire in his eye socket catching the candlelight and reflecting a cold, malevolent glint. "You took my eye, Lucenya. You humiliated me and took my destiny.  King Viserys promised you to me, yet your mother schemes to wed you to you bastard brother."

Lucenya's expression hardened slightly and her eyes remained guarded, aware."I was a child, Aemond. We both were. It was an accident, a moment of fear and anger. I was defending my brother! You cannot hold me responsible for the rest of our lives!" she paused and lowered the copper hairbrush, her neck turning slightly in his direction.  “And we both are aware our Grandsire was not off sound mind, an arrangement between us would never work, uncle.” 

Aemond could tell she tried to be assertive, but there was almost a unnoticeable tremor to her voice. Aemond was a terrific hunter, he knew when his prey was wavering in fear; she feared him, but was not afraid to confront him. Since she had arrived, Lucenya was always looking over her shoulder and seemed on edge. She knew she was in enemy territory.

Aemond also had rumours that reached Dragonstone. How the prince had grown and had became a lethal weapon like his dragon; not only great in his academics but had enviable skills with a sword. Lucy was not stupid or hopeful like her brother Jace; she needed to have her guard up around the greens, especially Aemond. 

Their little misunderstanding over dinner tonight just confirmed how Aemond still felt bitter towards her.

Aemond stepped closer, his presence looming over her. His hands grabbing her naked shoulder firmly, he could feel Lucy slightly shivering underneath his fingertips. 

How cute.

"You owe me, Lucenya Velaryon. Your future, your destiny—they belong to me. You were promised to me, and I intend to collect what is rightfully mine."

Lucenya maintained eye contact although the pink tint that rose to her cheeks gave her away. "And what do you propose, Aemond? How do you intend to settle this score?"

She watched with attention when he placed his right hand in his pocket, the left one still holding her in place. Lucy was expecting a dagger, but Aemond’s long fingers fished a necklace from his pocket. With an unusual gentle touch, Lucy gazed as her uncle placed the tear-drop-shaped sapphire - that looked awfully similar to the jewel that replaced his left eye - his hand holding the unusual gift around her neck. 

"You will honor the arrangement King Viserys made. You will be mine, as it was always meant to be. I will have your loyalty, your obedience, and your heart. You will make amends for the pain and humiliation you've caused me."

Lucenya's eyes flickered with a mixture of defiance and resignation. The fear she felt was gone, getting replaced by outrage, fire dissolving the fear and hesitance she felt towards the man behind her. "And if I refuse?"

Aemond's grip tightened slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Then you will face the full extent of my wrath. I have waited too long, and suffered too much. You will not deny me any longer."

The room seemed to close in around them, the weight of their past and the intensity of their emotions creating an almost palpable tension. Not another word was spoken among them, Aemond finished his threat and promise by clasping the necklace around her neck, taking his time with it and leaving, disappearing in the shadows from where he had appeared.

{...}

Lucy woke with a start, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps. The fever that had plagued her seemed to have broken, leaving her drenched in sweat but more clear-headed. She took a moment to orient herself, the dim light of the room revealing the familiar, yet oppressive surroundings of King’s Landing.

The memory of her last encounter with Aemond haunted her for many years. After leaving King’s Landing that day, she intended to never look back. The sapphire in her neck was still intact despite the brutal attack she had suffered.  

Pain still radiated through her body, a constant reminder of her injuries from Storm’s End. She winced as she tried to move, every muscle protesting in agony. Slowly, she turned her head and her body froze in fear when she saw Aemond. He was slumped in a chair beside her bed, fast asleep, his usually stern features softened in repose. A dagger hung from his belt, a silent threat even in slumber.

Tears burned in Lucy’s eyes but she quickly blinked them away. 

It was not the time to show weakness. She needed to go back to her mother, where she belonged.

The room was quiet, save for the faint crackling of a fire in the hearth. Lucy took in her surroundings, noting the lavish tapestries and heavy curtains that adorned the walls. Lucy’s bed was a grand four-poster, its canopy draped in silks and velvets of green and golden, the Hightower colors. The sheets, though currently disheveled and stained with sweat and blood, were of the finest quality, soft against her bruised skin. The bedposts were carved with dragon motifs, their eyes seeming to watch over her protectively.

Despite the grandeur, the room felt like a cage, a prison where she was held against her will.

Her gaze returned to Aemond. Even in sleep, he seemed imposing, a figure of both protection and danger. She watched him for a moment, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear, anger, and confusion. Why had he done this? What did he truly want from her?

Summoning what little strength she had, Lucenya shifted slightly in bed, trying to assess her condition without making too much noise. Her body was bruised and battered, and the bandages wrapped around her wounds were a stark reminder of her recent ordeal. Yet, the clarity of her mind brought with it a renewed sense of determination. She was no longer lost in the fog of fever and hallucination. She needed to think, to plan, to find a way out of this nightmare.

As she lay there, her thoughts racing, Aemond stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked a few times before focusing on her. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence heavy.

“You’re awake,” Aemond said, his voice rough with sleep but carrying a note of relief. He straightened in his chair, his eyes never leaving her face. 

Lucy opened her mouth, but suddenly her mouth and throat felt dry, a parched feeling that made her wince in discomfort. 

Aemond stood up immediately. Without a word, he reached for a goblet of water on the nearby table. His fingers, usually so sure and authoritative, were gentle as he lifted the goblet and approached her.

As he carefully propped her up in bed, his touch was surprisingly tender, though his demeanor remained stoic. Lucy’s heart raced with fear and confusion. What did Aemond intend to do next? 

He held the goblet to her lips, his gaze steady but distant. Lucenya drank slowly, each sip soothing her parched throat, but she could not shake the underlying tension. Aemond’s silence was oppressive, adding to her anxiety. The room was filled with the faint sounds of the crackling fire and her labored breathing, but otherwise, the silence between them was thick and heavy.

Aemond's eyes remained fixed on her as she drank, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. He was careful not to rush her, allowing her to take her time. His silence spoke volumes, and Lucenya could sense his contemplation.

As the goblet was finally lowered, Lucenya’s throat felt less constricted, but her fear remained. She dared not meet his gaze directly, unsure of what emotions or intentions lay behind those piercing eyes. The way he looked at her, with that unsettling calmness, left her on edge.

Once she had finished, he set the glass down with deliberate calmness and settled back into his chair. The quiet tension in the room was palpable.

Finally, Aemond broke the silence, his voice smooth and calm. “Once you’ve fully recovered, Lucenya, we will proceed with the arrangements for our marriage.” His tone was measured, devoid of emotion but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Lucenya's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, her hand gripping the bedclothes as she tried to process his words. “Married?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. “To you?”

“Yes,” Aemond replied, his gaze steady. “You will enter Aegon’s court as my wife. Your presence there will serve to solidify our position and provide leverage in the ongoing conflict.”

His words felt like a heavy blow, and Lucenya’s mind raced with the implications. The idea of being wed to Aemond, and becoming part of Aegon’s court, was overwhelming. She would be in enemy territory; they would punish her mother for her missteps and she would be punished if her mother decided to retaliate. 

She needed to get out of King’s Landing.

Besides her fear and uncertainty, anger also boiled inside her. 

“You think this is the end of it?” she said, her tone edged with determination despite her frail state. “My brother Jacaerys and my mother—they won’t just sit idly by. They will come for me. They’ll come for you and they will come for your traitor brother!”

Aemond's gaze remained steady, a hint of amusement flickering in his eye. He regarded her with curiosity and indifference as if weighing the validity of her threat.

“I’m well aware of the lengths your family might go to,” Aemond said calmly, his voice devoid of concern. “But by the time they realize what’s happened, our plans will already be in motion. Their efforts will be in vain.”

He stood up and walked closer to her bed.

As Aemond approached Lucy’s bed, the room's dim light accentuated the sharp lines of his face, casting shadows that highlighted the intensity of his gaze. His footsteps were soft, and deliberate, and his movements were infused with a strange, almost unsettling calmness.

Reaching the side of the bed, he looked down at Lucenya with a gaze of usual coldness and disdain but there was something more elusive—perhaps a fleeting hint of tenderness or possessiveness. With a practiced grace, he extended his hand and gently brushed the stray strands of her dark hair away from her face.

His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the steely resolve he had shown earlier. He moved her hair with delicate precision, his fingers lightly grazing her forehead. The action was almost intimate, a silent acknowledgment of her vulnerability.

Lucy, though still weak and disoriented, could feel the warmth of his hand near her skin. The juxtaposition of his cold demeanor with this gentle touch only deepened the confusion and fear she felt. The tenderness in his actions seemed almost incongruous with the harsh reality of her captivity and the dire threats he had just made.

Aemond’s expression remained blank as he continued to smooth her hair back, his movements slow and deliberate. There was a methodical nature to his actions as if he was contemplating the weight of his decisions while attending to this personal detail. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and then he pulled his hand away.

“I’ve made preparations for such eventualities. I assure you, niece, everything is under control.”

As he finished speaking, he stood up, the faint glint of the dagger at his belt catching the light. His posture was firm, resolute, and indifferent to her protests. “Rest now,” he said, his tone final. “Once you’re well, we will proceed with our plans. Until then, there’s nothing more to discuss.”

(Part Two)

AO3

[anonymousewrites]

There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-One

Dazai Osamu x Fem! Reader

Chuuya Nakahara x Fem! OC

Chapter Twenty-One: Tripolar Singularity

MANGA SPOILERS PLEASE HEED THIS WARNING

Summary: The aftermath of fighting Fukuchi and Fyodor is not the end of the battle against evil.

           Thump!

            Sigma’s limp body hit the ground, and Chuuya shrugged.

            “Nothing,” he said.

            “Huh. Maybe he’s just sleep deprived?” said Dazai, obviously not serious.

            Chuuya rolled his eyes. “You’d think that would keep him zonked after being dropped fifteen times? If that is the case, we should just let the poor bastard get some shut-eye.

            “I really wanted to know what he and Dostoevsky chatted about,” said Dazai.

            “Maybe he’s being forced asleep by an ability?” suggested Chuuya.

            “If that were the case, he’d have woken up the second I touched him,” said Dazai.

            “Just quit your worrying,” said Chuuya. “That anemic son of a bitch kicked the bucket. You saw it with your own eyes.”

            “You’re right.” Dazai furrowed his brow. “I just don’t get it. Why hasn’t he woken up yet?” It disquieted him. He had ensured Fyodor died, but…something felt off. Fyodor had been angry and caught off guard, but that was nearly impossible. Dazai had beaten him, but what if he had failsafe? What if there was something more going on?

            He flopped to the ground and rolled around in frustration, thinking it over. If he had overlooked something—a rare occurrence but possible against a man as intelligent as him—then (Y/N) would once again be in danger, and Dazai couldn’t let that happen.

            “Quit that habit of rolling all over the ground whenever you’re worrying,” said Chuuya. “It’s annoying to look at, Dazai. What are you still brooding over? Sure, we don’t know why Sigma won’t wake up—”

            Dazai paused. “I know exactly why he isn’t waking up.”

            “Huh?” Chuuya furrowed his brow.

            “He’s overloaded with information,” said Dazai. “After taking in an excessive amount of memory data in through an ability, one loses consciousness, as to give their brain time to sort through it all. I was told something similar happened to (Y/N).” He frowned as he continued to go through his own thoughts. “Could that mean Dostoevsky purposefully let Sigma read his memories? Now just why would he—” He froze. His eyes widened. He sat up. Wild panic flew through his mind.

            “In order to mask his ability?” said Dazai, breathless. “It’s possible the ability the ability he showed off at the end of the “Mutual Destruction” incident and threatened (Y/N) with was a fake. He likely prepared one of Hawthorne’s blood bullets beforehand then transferred the blood to the soldier he touched, destroying him from the inside.

            “However, that just made us cautious of the possibility of his ability’s activation condition being ‘touch.’ That’s exactly why my plan was all distanced. Hence, taking out the helicopter all in order to defeat him without making direct contact. If that’s not the case, what’s the real activation condition?” Dazai searched through every interaction with Fyodor and arrived at the helicopter. He remembered Fyodor final words as the helicopter fell towards him.

            Angelic light.

            Dazai's eyes widened in horror. Fyodor had smiled as he spoke.

            He jumped to his feet and ran for the exit.

            “Wha—? Hey, where are you going, dumbass?!” shouted Chuuya. Dazai hadn’t explained anything.

            “We have to check Dostoevsky’s corpse!” said Dazai, more alarmed than Chuuya had ever seen him.

            A shiver ran down Chuuya’s spine, and he ran out after Dazai. Before he had a chance to lift the helicopter with his ability, Dazai had pushed rubble aside and found the corpse proper—one arm missing, just as before. Dazai grabbed the other arm and pulled the body out.

            Chuuya just squatted and watched. “Now here’s a rare sight. It’s not often I get to see you sweat.” He looked at the body. “There you have it. He bit the dust. Hard.”

            “Is that so?” Dazai pushed the body over, and his heart dropped. “Then who the hell is this?” It was not Fyodor’s face that stared unseeing at the sky.

            Everything fell into horrible place.

            “During the prison break race, Dostoevsky was frantic. He was frantic because death at my hand or by poison wouldn’t do it. What he needed was to be killed by a vampire.” Dazai narrowed his eyes.

            “Huh?” said Chuuya, eyes widened.

            “I get it now. His entire plan. It all leads to…the worst possible scenario.” And Dazai had allowed it to happen. He had put everything he cared about, the world, (Y/N) in harm’s way. He jumped to his feet. “I have to tell Ranpo immediately!”

            “Hey, hold it, explain!” said Chuuya, following him.

            “His ability’s activation condition! It isn’t touch!” shouted Dazai as he ran. “Dostoevsky’s ability, it activates when he’s killed!”

            “The hell’s that supposed to mean? Speak Japanese, please!” snapped Chuuya.

            “A vampire killed Dostoevsky!  But he didn’t do it of his own volition!” Dazai’s eyes were wide open as he ran. “He was just a puppet being controlled. Nothing but his fingertip. The vampire piloting the helicopter was just the same as a gun or blade. Nothing but a tool. The one with the intent, the one who actually killed Dostoevsky…was Bram Stoker!”

            The man horribly close to (Y/N).

            “The reason his corpse turned into a different person, the reason he docilely submitted to being locked away across the world, there’s only one explanation!” said Dazai. “Dostoevsky’s ability is to subsume the person that killed as ‘the next Dostoevsky!’ ”

            Dazai had led Fyodor right to (Y/N), the woman he loved.

l

            (Y/N) and Akira lay on the ground, unconscious. Slowly, Akira managed to raise her head, holding her wounds tightly as she bled. She groaned and looked around to analyze the current situation. Fukuchi was sitting and stared at the body of his friend-turned-fanatical-villain, Fukuchi. (Y/N) was groaning and blinking her eyes open in an attempt to regain consciousness after the battle. Behind them, Bram had arrived on the airport runway with Aya at his side. He gazed at Fukuchi.

            “My archenemy—” He groaned and stumbled. “I see…”

            “What’s the matter, Bra-chan?” asked Aya.

            “My princess,” said Bram. He turned and pushed her back in alarm. “Run far from here!” He cried out and grabbed his face as his skin split open. Like a snake shedding its scales, Bram’s skin and hair fell away to reveal anemically-pale skin like that of the vampire’s, but now black hair fell from his head. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as sharp, cruel eyes blinked open.

            Fyodor stood before the group with a smirk. His gaze instantly leveled on (Y/N). “Why, good morning, Angel,” he said.

            Fukuzawa grabbed his sword, but Fyodor drew the sword that had once been implanted in Bram and pointed it at Akira. “I’d advise you not to move. I won’t hesitate to kill her.”

            “Fuck you,” sneered Akira. “Do it.”

            “No—” (Y/N) coughed and tasted the iron tang of blood in her mouth.

            “I suppose it doesn’t much matter what you decide,” said Fyodor, shifting his foot towards Fukuchi’s body.

            “Stop him—”

            (Y/N)’s warning was too late, and before Fukuzawa could decide to attack—not that he would allow Akira to die, he wouldn’t even kill Fukuchi himself, which Fyodor had used to his advantage—Fyodor kicked Fukuchi’s sword into his hand.

            “I do apologize for the following discomfort, Angel. But it is for your own good,” said Fyodor with the disgustingly possessive look in his eyes. He flipped the swords around in his hands.

            “Stop him!” shouted Ranpo, running across the airport. “Don’t let Dostoevsky stab her with that blade!”

            Fyodor smirked and struck. (Y/N) let out a cry as both swords hit her, and a green light welled up from the wound. Fyodor watched with immense satisfaction.

            “In my right, the Divine Blade, Ame-no-Gozen. In my left, the Holy Sword, Soluz Levni.” Fyodor watched the light grow to a blinding brightness. “Two heavenly blades and an angelic being bring froth unto this land, a miracle.”

            Ranpo ran forward, helpless to stop what Fyodor had begun. He had brought three “extremes” together—the space-time sword, said to have a god dwelling within it, the forced combination of ability and body, the Holy Cross Sword, and the ability to control and strength all that the holder surveys, There’s a Will; There’s a Way.

            They united, and the power unleashed bathed the world in energy they could not overcome. Akira let out a cry for her best friend, her sister, but she could not see (Y/N) through the green light. The force of the energy shoved her back. Fukuzawa grabbed her and Aya and held them as the light rushed over them.

            The tripolar singularity was unleashed.

l

            (Y/N) felt pure energy coursing through her, and the edges of her vision darkened. In fact, her thoughts seemed to be fleeing her. She was growing smaller, smaller, smaller…

            Within (Y/N), something twisted and twisted until it broke. (Y/N)’s eyes closed, and amidst all the light, darkness swallowed them whole.

l

            The light faded, and Akira, Aya, and Fukuzawa raised their heads. Their eyes widened. A crater stood where (Y/N) had lain. Torii—gates—stood around the crater, and green energy still sparked out within it.

            “Now, would you look at that. Spectacular,” said Fyodor, standing at the edge of the crater.

            “What the hell did you do?” snapped Akira, trying to move forward, but the injuries were still too much and hadn’t healed. “Where’s (Y/N)?! How the hell are you here?!”

            “Bram Stoker is dead,” said Fyodor with a smirk. “And I endured quite the hardship to obtain the echoes of him in death.” He lifted his hand to reveal One Order.

            “No—” Fukuzawa’s eyes widened.

            “Yes,” said Fyodor. “ ‘One Order.’ A weapon allowing its wielder to control all of their subordinates as they please. This body belongs—or, well, belonged—to Bram Stoker, the King of the Vampires. If I were to use One Order within this body, who would I be able to control?”

            Aya’s eyes widened. “You’d be able to control all of the vampires across the world…?”

            “That’s what all this was for?!” snapped Akira. “The Decay of the Angel, Fukuchi, all of it—you just wanted to take over the world like any common fucking villain?”

            Fyodor smirked. “I am hardly common.”

            Behind him, a beacon of light erupted from the crater. They watched it arc up before floating down to stand behind Fyodor. The light faded to reveal a figure. Fukuzawa’s eyes widened, and Akira’s lungs constricted into a horrified gasp.

            It was (Y/N). Her gaze was empty, and she wore a long, white kimono. As it fluttered around her in the wind, the light hit it to reveal a green shine. A veil floated over here yes with three dots on it. The sword at her side glinted dangerously in the light. (Y/N) looked divine and dangerous.

            “(Y/N),” breathed Akira, heartbroken.

            “Not quite,” said Fyodor. “This is a divine being, far being your…mortal existence.” He gazed adoringly at (Y/N), and Akira was disgusted. “With the Holy Cross sword’s power to combine ability and body, a tripartite fusion occurred between (Y/N) (L/N), the Divine Blade Ame-no-Gozen, and the Holy Sword itself. Then, (Y/N)’s ability combined with Ame-no-Gozen, her gift strengthened by the sword in turn giving it strength, letting hundredfold elevation of power approach infinity. The abilities gave way to a singularity. (Y/N)—an angel trapped in a mortal body—can now become who she was meant to be. She possesses truly godlike power.” Fyodor raised his hand to show a black mark on his palm. “And a goddess answers her devout follower’s prayers.” He smiled with a worshipful expression, but it was a mask in front of his cruelty and manipulation. “With the seal of the Holy Sword, she will answer my call and my call alone.”

            Fyodor took a knee and held (Y/N)’s hand reverently in his hand. He kissed the back gently before looking up at (Y/N). “My lady, my angel, my goddess of order and justice. Mine.”