#body heart and soul (series) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acourtofquestions · 1 month ago

Text

No. No, it couldn't have been a dream The escape, Rowan, the ship to Terrasen—

A dream. An illusion. Her escape from him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.

Had she said it? Had she said where the Keys were hidden?

Then a cool, cultured voice purred, "All that training, and this is what becomes of you?" Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other side of the altar, was not real.

"Even Sam held out better than this."

Fenrys snarled.

You could get out of these chains, if you really wanted," Arobynn said, frowning with distaste. "If you really tried."

No, she couldn't, and everything had been a dream, a lie.

"You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free..." Arobynn chuckled. "Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter."

Only hearing the King of the Assassins, unseen and unnoted beside her.

"Deep down, you're hoping you'll be here long enough that the young King of Adarlan will pay the price. Deep down, you know you're hiding here, waiting for him to clear the path." Arobynn leaned against the side of the altar, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Deep down, you know it's not really fair, that those gods picked you. That Elena picked you instead of him. She bought you time to live, yes, but you were still chosen to pay the price. Her price And the gods'?"

Arobynn ran a long-fingered hand down the side of her face. "Do you see what I tried to spare you from all these years? What you might have avoided had you remained Celaena, remained with me?" He smiled. "Do you see, Aelin?"

She could not answer. Had no voice. Cairn hit bone, and—

Aelin lunged upward, hands grasping for her thigh. No chains weighed her. No mask smothered her. No dagger had been twisted into her body. Breathing hard, the scent of musty sheets clinging to her nose, the sounds of her screaming replaced by the drowsy chirping of birds, Aelin scrubbed at her face.

The prince who'd fallen asleep beside her was already running a hand down her back in silent, soothing strokes.

A dream. Just a dream.

She twisted, setting her feet to the threadbare carpet on the uneven wood floor.

"Dawn isn't for another hour," Rowan said.

Yet Aelin reached for her shirt. "I'll get warmed up, then." Maybe run, as she had not been able to do in weeks and weeks.

Rowan sat up, missing nothing. "Training can wait, Aelin." They'd been doing it for weeks now, as thorough and grueling as it had been at Mistward.

She shoved her legs into her pants, then buckled on her sword belt.

"No, it can't."

A gathering storm to the north had forced their ship to find harbor last night—and after weeks at sea, none of them had hesitated to spend a few hours on land. To learn what in hell had happened while they'd been gone.

The answer: war.

Everywhere, war raged. But where the fighting occurred, the aging innkeeper didn't know. Boats didn't stop at the port anymore— and the great warships just sailed past. Whether they were enemy or friendly, he also didn't know.

Aelin scowled. "What." It wasn't so much of a question as demand.

His gaze was unfaltering. As it had been when she'd returned from her run through the misty fields beyond the inn and found him leaning against the apple tree. "That's enough for today."

"We've hardly started." She lifted her blade.

Rowan kept his own lowered. "You barely slept last night."

Aelin tensed. "Bad dreams." An understatement. She lifted her chin and threw him a grin. "Perhaps I'm starting to wear you down a bit."

His canines gleamed. "You need to eat."

"I need to train."

She couldn't stop it-that need to do something. To be in motion.

No matter how many times she swung her blade, she could feel them. The shackles. And whenever she paused to rest, she could feel it, too—her magic. Waiting.

Indeed, it seemed to open an eye and yawn.

She clenched her jaw, and attacked again Rowan met each blow, and she knew her maneuvers were descending into sloppiness.

Knew he let her continue rather than seizing the many openings to end it.

She couldn't stop. War raged around them People were dying. And she had been locked in that damned box, had been taken apart again and again, unable to do anything.

Rowan struck, so fast she couldn't track it. But it was the foot he slid before her own that doomed her, sending her careening into the dirt.

"I win," he panted. "Let's eat."

Aelin glared up at him. "Another round."

Rowan just sheathed his sword. "After breakfast."

She growled. He growled right back.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll lose all that muscle if you don't feed your body. So eat. And if you still want to train afterward, I'll train with you." He offered her a tattooed hand.

But Aelin said, "People are dying. In Terrasen. In-everywhere. People are dying, Rowan."

"Your eating breakfast isn't going to change that." Her lips curled in a snarl, but he cut her off. "I know people are dying. We are going to help them. But you need to have some strength left, or you won't be able to."

Truth. Her mate spoke truth. And yet she could see them, hear them. Those dying, frightened people. Whose screams so often sounded like her own.

Rowan wriggled his fingers in silent reminder. Shall we?

Aelin scowled and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. So pushy.

Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me.

Elide's eyes widened. Widened further as he opened his mouth, and took a bite. His swallow was audible. His cringe barely contained. Elide reined in her smile at the pure misery that entered the Lion's tawny stare. Aelin and Rowan had been finishing up a similar battle when she'd entered the taproom minutes ago, the queen wishing her luck before striding back into the courtyard.

Elide hadn't seen her sit still for longer than it took to eat a meal. Or during the hours when she'd instructed them in Wyrdmarks, after Rowan had requested she teach them.

It had gotten her out of the chains, the prince had explained. And if the ilken were resistant to their magic, then learning the ancient marks would come in handy with all they faced ahead. The battles both physical and magic.

Gavriel met her stare, and Elide again restrained her laugh.

She felt, rather than saw, Lorcan enter. The innkeeper instantly found somewhere else to be. The man hadn't been surprised to see five Fae enter his inn last night, so his vanishing whenever Lorcan appeared was certainly due to the glower the male had perfected.

Indeed, Lorcan took one look at Elide and Gavriel and left the dining room.

They'd barely spoken these weeks. Elide hadn't known what to even say. A member of this court. Her court. Forever.

He and Aelin certainly hadn't warmed toward each other. No, only Rowan and Gavriel really spoke to him. Fenrys, despite his promise to Aelin not to fight with Lorcan, ignored him most of the time. And Elide ... She'd made herself scarce often enough that Lorcan hadn't bothered to approach her.

Good. It was good. Even if she sometimes found herself opening her mouth to speak to him. Watching him as he listened to Aelin's lessons on the Wyrdmarks. Or while he trained with the queen, the rare moments when the two of them weren't at each other's throats.

Aelin had been returned to them. Was recovering as best she could.

Elide didn't taste her next bite of porridge. Gavriel, thankfully, said nothing. And Anneith didn't speak, either. Not a whisper of guidance. It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

Whether the others knew what propelled her, they hadn't said a word. Aelin sheathed Goldryn and loosed a long breath. Deep down, her power grumbled. She flexed her fingers. Maeve's cold, pale face flashed before her eyes. Her magic went silent.

Fenrys sat in wolf form at the edge of the nearest field, staring out across the expanse.

Precisely where he'd been before dawn.

She let him hear her steps, his ears twitching. He shifted as she approached, and leaned against the half-rotted fence surrounding the field.

"Who'd you piss off to get the graveyard shift?" Aelin asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Fenrys snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Would you believe I volunteered for it?" She arched a brow. He shrugged, watching the field again, the mists still clinging to its farthest reaches. "I don't sleep well these days." He cut her a sidelong glance. "I don't suppose I'm the only one."

She picked at the blister on her right hand, hissing. "We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well."

"As long as Lorcan isn't invited, I'm in."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Let it go."

His face turned stony. "I said I would."

"You clearly haven't."

"I'll let it go when you stop running yourself ragged at dawn."

"I'm not running myself ragged. Rowan is overseeing it."

"Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere."

Truth. Aelin curled her aching hands into fists and slid them into her pockets. Fenrys said nothing didn't ask why she didn't warm her fingers. Or the air around them. He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right?

A gull's cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she'd admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right?

Two blinks from him, too. No,

They were not alright.

They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn't let on.

None of them commented that Fenrys hadn't once used his magic to leap between places. Not that there was anywhere to go in the middle of the sea. But even when they sparred, he didn't wield it. Perhaps it had died with Connall. Perhaps it had been a gift they had both shared, and touching it was unbearable.

She didn't dare peer inward, to the churning sea inside her. Couldn't.

Aelin and Fenrys stood by the field as the sun arced higher, burning off the mists.

Aelin shook her head. Another dream, or hallucination. "If she's on our heels with this army, I'm just ... trying to understand it. Her, I mean."

"You plan to kill her." The gruel in her stomach turned over, but Aelin shrugged. Even as she tasted ash on her tongue.

"Would you prefer to do it?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said through his teeth. "And you have more of a reason to claim it than I do."

"I'd say we have an equal claim."

His dark eyes roved over her face. "Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end."

She gripped his hand and squeezed. "I know."

The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell you about it?" He didn't mean his brother.

She shook her head. "I know enough." She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. "I know enough," she repeated.

#Chapter 44 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Aelin Galathynius #Rowan Whitethorn #Fenrys #Rowaelin #Throne of Glass series #no spoilers please this is my first read to read along with me there will be book & chapter spoilers in post & tags with more in tags etc.#Fenrys and Aelin #the Mistward references are getting me man everytime they go full circle ow my soul but aw my heart but ahh my brain #YOU DID NOT JUST REFERENCE SAM CORTLAND IN COMPARISON OH MY GODS MY SOUL IM DEAD NOW HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US BB GIRL NO #the fact she can’t tell reality from nightmare because of Maeve is truly so cruel and utterly heartbreaking #the fact Cairn uses her name oh hell no it hurts on another level and the horror each time Rowan the ship a dream an illusion I didn’t brea #the fact she’s worried about if she gave up the keys then Terrasen better be kind to her now or else #Not real. the fact it’s almost a comfort to see him in horror because at least she knows it’s a nightmare with Arobynn #that’s why the little folk also worked because Maeve doesn’t know that part of the story to twist in the first place cause she isn’t an hei #the way Rowan is already there rubbing her back waiting for her on the run Fenrys is right he’s all that’s keeping her #but even in the nightmare Fenrys is there please don’t make the name Rowan calling out what’s going on in reality no fire please #new blisters for a new body oh my heart breaks every time it’s giving white pig inn vibes babe got the braid back she’s trying but he knows #his gaze was unfaltering-which one said had dreams?-I miss the easier Mistward days #truth-the way Fenrys and Aelin are both finally honest that their not okay-she is one of her people-their brain talks are back #yes elide learning where marks-the lions tawny stare- oh Elide & Lorcy #HER court-better at a distance-what had Maeve done to her magic?-graveyard shift-they know-the fact he shifts for her so they can talk #the lil Lorcan jokes lol this cadre of hers-it’s also Fenrys magic-she knows Maeve is off-the power difference-no not another attack-hurry #but Aelin could walk away from it-her vs Maeve-bitch going down in the flames of the true queen bb #Her former master gave her a half smile. Even Sam held out better than this.#So pushy. Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me #We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well. As long as Lorcan isn't invited I'm in.#Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere.

1 note · View note

solxamber · 2 months ago

Text

Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona Kingscholar x Reader

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

Series Masterlist

You're just an average person, doing normal human things like eating, sleeping, and, of course, staring at your poster of Leona Kingscholar for three hours straight. Totally healthy behavior. People have hobbies, right? Some knit, some jog, and you…? You defend your fictional lion husband from slander on the internet. You’re practically a digital knight in shining armor.

The story that has consumed your very soul? Oh, just your typical Cliché Villainess Academy Novel: Revenge Edition™. The plot is so by-the-book, it’s basically a war crime against creativity. Female lead? She’s been in love with the male lead since he gave some boring welcome speech that apparently hit her so hard, her brain rewired itself into a romantic mess.

The villainess? Obviously in love with the male lead too, but her one and only goal in life is making the heroine’s existence a never-ending trainwreck of public embarrassment. And the male lead? Sweet summer child. He just wants to get his degree and avoid eye contact with all of these lunatics.

Enter: Leona Kingscholar, the second male lead. The man, the myth, the walking sarcasm machine. He’s there purely to fuel jealousy in everyone else’s love story, but for you? He’s everything. The brooding, lazy, hot second male lead who rolls his eyes at every plot point like he’s just as done with this novel as you are. He has better things to do, like nap, but here he is, dragged into this mess by proximity.

If it were up to you, he and the male lead would run off together, leave the heroine and villainess to start their own hobby club about emotional devastation, and the two guys would live happily ever after in matching beach chairs somewhere.

But no. Instead, you’re stuck reading about her fawning over him while Leona is just… there. Existing. The only thing keeping your interest alive.

And now? Now, your loyalty to Leona Kingscholar is about to pay off. The fan event of the century is just days away. It’s going to be glorious. A whole day dedicated to Leona—merch, fan contests, life-sized cardboard cutouts (which, let’s be honest, you’re ready to risk it all for). You've cleared your schedule, mentally prepared yourself for the inevitable squealing, and created a battle plan for acquiring the best merch before everyone else.

But fate? Fate’s cruel.

You’re casually defending Leona’s honor online as usual, battling some no-name troll who dares to claim that the male lead is "better written." (HA! You laugh in their wrong face.) But then—what’s this? A an likes your tweet about Leona! And not just any author. THE ONE YOU LOVE. The serotonin shoots through you like an adrenaline shot straight to the brain.

Your heart’s racing. You’re vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear. You leap out of your chair like some majestic gazelle—or at least that’s what you tell yourself as you promptly trip over the plushie army that guards your floor.

Before you know it, you’re tumbling, body flailing like a noodle, bouncing down the stairs in what feels like slow motion. The world spins. Your merch shelves mock you from the distance. You land at the bottom in a heap, your soul floating just above your body.

"Is this… how it ends?" you wheeze, gasping for breath, more in shock than pain. As your vision starts to fade, all you can think is: I never made it to the Leona event….

And with that, you die. Crushed under the weight of fandom.

You wake up, and your first thought isn’t the usual, “Oh, I’ve been isekai’d into a new world, how fascinating, I’ll have time to adjust in a moment of peace and reflection.” No. You wake up and it hits you like a brick: Oh no. Female lead.

But then, a beam of hope breaks through the clouds of despair and shines down on you like a heavenly spotlight: Wait. Leona Kingscholar is here.

Before you can even revel in the thought of being in the same universe as your broody lion crush, reality smacks you upside the head. Loud voices are pulling you back to the scene unfolding right in front of your very eyes.

You blink. Hold on. This is not a bedroom, and this is definitely not a private moment to gather your thoughts like in every other isekai novel. Oh no, you’ve been thrown directly into the group project scene.

You know, the one where the villainess is sharpening her claws on the heroine while Leona watches from the sidelines like he’s two seconds away from a permanent nap? Yeah, you’re smack in the middle of it.

The villainess, looking as pissed off as usual, is glaring daggers at the trembling heroine, who is staring at you with those wide, teary eyes like you’re supposed to swoop in and save her from this verbal smackdown.

And that’s when it hits you: you’re the male lead. The original goody-two-shoes, justice-loving male lead who always stepped in to defend the heroine. The one who got suckered into every cliché moment, complete with sparkles and heroic speeches about morality and blah blah blah.

Not you, though.

You take one look at the heroine. She’s giving you this look like you’re her knight in shining armor, expecting you to throw yourself in front of her and deliver some dramatic monologue about kindness and decency. And you? You're mentally checking out of this scene faster than the speed of light.

Nah. You’re not about that life.

Your gaze drifts to Leona, sitting on the far side of the room, slouched over like he’s wondering why he’s being subjected to this emotional soap opera when he could be napping. His face screams "done," and honestly? Same. He meets your gaze, eyes half-lidded and bored, probably hoping you’ll do the usual male lead routine and put an end to this nonsense.

But oh no, today’s different.

You casually stroll over to where Leona is sitting, ignoring the drama unfolding behind you. With the swagger of someone who knows exactly what they’re about to do is going to blow some minds, you hold out your hand to him. "So, uh… you want to ditch this disaster and go take a nap? Or maybe raid the kitchens? I’m thinking we play hooky and pretend this never happened."

Leona’s eyes flicker with surprise for half a second. The male lead? The goody-two-shoes-moral-compass of the entire plot? The guy who literally lived to stop drama in its tracks? Is offering to blow off this whole mess? He raises an eyebrow, smirking like the cat who caught the canary.

"Didn’t think you had it in you," Leona drawls, but you can tell he’s already down for this. "Alright. Let’s go. If anyone asks, I’m gonna say you dragged me out."

"Deal," you say, trying not to look too smug. And with that, you turn on your heel, and with Leona at your side, you head for the door, leaving behind a shell-shocked villainess and a teary-eyed heroine who’s probably still processing the fact that her supposed knight in shining armor just dipped.

As you and Leona stroll out, you hear the villainess mutter, “What… just happened?” and you can’t help but grin. You may have just turned the plot upside down, but at least you’re doing it in style.

"Hey, Leona," you say, nudging him, "think we can find some of those fancy desserts in the kitchen? I’m starving."

Leona snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If you’re buying, sure."

And just like that, the male lead and the second male lead walk off into the sunset—or rather, the campus courtyard—hand in hand with a new mission: Avoiding all future plot nonsense at all costs.

You’re not sure how you got here, staring at the over-the-top ball decorations like you’ve stepped into a bargain bin fairytale, but hey, life has taken a weird turn lately. You, of all people, are living out the plot of a novel so cliché it makes your head hurt.

But you guess that’s what happens when you get isekai’d into a second-rate villainess story. The only thing missing is a glass slipper and some woodland creatures to sing with.

And of course, surprise! The ball isn’t just some casual evening of sipping punch and avoiding the villainess’s death stares. No, if you don’t nail the ball, you don’t graduate. Because nothing says "academic achievement" like knowing how to waltz while dressed like a background character from Bridgerton.

So here you are, in ball lessons, where everyone is nervously pairing off while you’re trying not to roll your eyes into another dimension. The heroine, with her usual doe-eyed sparkle, gets paired with you first. And let’s be real: she’s either terrible at dancing, or she’s using this as an excuse to get you to hold her close.

But you? Oh no. You’ve read enough of this garbage to know where that’s going, and you have zero interest in playing out the “close embrace, sparks flying, almost-kiss” trope. Absolutely not.

As soon as the music starts, you decide it’s time to act. You let your feet stumble—deliberately, of course—and flail around like you’ve never seen a ballroom floor in your life. The heroine, bless her clueless heart, giggles like she thinks you’re just being cute, but you’re not about to humor this. When the instructor’s eyes lock onto you, you seize the opportunity.

"Oh no!" you say dramatically, throwing a hand over your forehead like you’re in some kind of soap opera. "I’m so bad at this. Could someone please teach me how to dance?"

You pause, glance around the room, and then lock eyes with Leona Kingscholar.

"Leona!" you shout, loud enough that the whole room freezes. "You’re the second prince! You must’ve had etiquette lessons, right? Teach me how to dance!"

The room collectively loses its mind. The heroine looks like you’ve just slapped her with a glove and challenged her to a duel. The villainess is staring at you like you’ve lost your marbles. And Leona? Leona’s expression is somewhere between utter confusion and why me.

Leona leans back, crossing his arms, visibly annoyed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, but there’s no denying the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth when he sees the heroine and villainess get shoved into an awkward dancing pair together.

Despite his clear irritation, Leona steps forward, because let’s face it, he’s the kind of guy who’ll humor you if it means avoiding worse drama. You slide into position with him, and honestly? You’re in heaven. You can barely focus on your feet, too busy trying to hide your grin while you imagine all the drama this is causing behind you.

Meanwhile, the heroine and the villainess are floundering around, tripping over each other like they’ve got two left feet each. The villainess is grinding her teeth, and the heroine keeps stepping on her toes. It’s a glorious disaster.

Leona, despite his annoyance, is surprisingly good at this. He’s leading with the kind of effortless grace that makes you wonder how someone so lazy can still be so competent at everything. You’re definitely not staring at his sharp features while he dances, not at all.

"You do realize this is a waste of time, right?" Leona grumbles under his breath, his eyes flicking to the chaos unfolding behind you. "Why me, herbivore? You could’ve asked anyone else."

You just shrug, trying not to sound too smug. "What can I say? I have excellent taste in dance partners."

Leona’s brow twitches like he’s torn between smirking and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." But the smirk wins out, especially when the villainess and heroine fumble yet again, nearly toppling over each other.

You glance up at him, beaming. Leona Kingscholar might be annoyed, but he’s not stopping anytime soon. And you? You’re just here for the ride, watching the heroine and villainess self-destruct from the safety of Leona’s arms.

Ball lessons? Piece of cake.

You’ve been doing everything humanly possible to avoid the female lead like she’s a carrier of the medieval plague. You thought you’d be safe here, hiding behind your “I’m too busy and mysterious for romance” persona, but no—somehow—the more you avoid her, the more she’s convinced that you’re the dark, brooding, irresistible male lead she’s always dreamed of.

You know, the type who avoids emotional connections but secretly harbors a heart of gold. But the truth is, you’re just a guy trying to get through the day so you can swoon over Leona Kingscholar in peace.

It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it either. You’ve been dropping hints left and right, hoping the universe would give you a break and let the female lead fall in love with literally anyone else. But no. Somehow, everyone is ignoring your very obvious affection for Leona.

It’s like you’re stuck in a tragic comedy where the female lead falls harder for you the more you try to disappear, and Leona just… well, he’s just living his best life, completely unaware of your internal screaming.

Take the latest tea party, for example. You were just trying to enjoy some pastries, maybe steal a glance at Leona from across the table, when the heroine decides to make her move. She picks up a delicate slice of cake and holds it out to you, eyes sparkling with that innocent-yet-hopeful look that says, “This is our moment.”

You? You’re not having any of that. Nope. No way. You’re not about to be part of this rom-com narrative. So, without missing a beat, you casually take the cake from her and, in one smooth motion, turn and offer it to Leona, who’s lounging lazily next to you, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Leona raises an eyebrow at you, clearly baffled by why you’re holding out cake like he’s some sort of royal who expects to be hand-fed. “What are you doing?” he mutters, looking suspiciously between you and the cake.

“Just thought you’d like some,” you say with a straight face, ignoring the heroine’s stunned expression. She’s sitting there, fork still poised in the air, blinking rapidly like you’ve just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Leona huffs, looking mildly irritated but mostly confused. After a pause, he shrugs and leans forward, taking a bite of the cake without even bothering to lift his own hand. “Whatever,” he mutters between chews. “Tastes fine.”

You nod, satisfied. Meanwhile, the heroine looks like she’s on the verge of tears, and the villainess is smirking in the background like she’s about to take out popcorn and enjoy the drama.

Later that day, you find a nice, quiet spot under a tree to relax. You’ve managed to avoid any major incidents so far, and for once, you’re not being dragged into some dramatic showdown. You lie back, close your eyes, and just let yourself chill. But, of course, the universe doesn’t want you to have peace.

Enter Leona.

Without a word, he flops down next to you, takes one look at your position, and decides—out of all the places he could sit—that your lap is the best pillow option available. You feel his head plop down on your lap like this is the most normal thing in the world. You stare down at him, completely dumbfounded, while he just closes his eyes and lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Leona?” you start, voice half bewildered, half amused. “You good?”

“Shut up,” he mutters without opening his eyes. “You’re more comfortable than the grass.”

You blink at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Meanwhile, the villainess strolls by, spots the two of you under the tree, and comes to an immediate halt. Her face contorts into a mix of disbelief and confusion, like she’s just witnessed something unholy. You can almost hear her mental scream of, what the hell is going on here?!

She doesn’t say anything, though. Just stands there, hands clenched, before turning on her heel and storming off. You don’t even care. You’re too busy reveling in the fact that Leona chose your lap as his personal resting place. If that isn’t a win, you don’t know what is.

And then, of course, there’s the infamous hallway incident. The heroine—who, by this point, you’re pretty sure has developed some kind of radar for finding you—comes running toward you. She trips over something (the air? her own foot? you don’t know) and launches herself straight into your arms in what is clearly an attempt to trigger some rom-com, slow-motion embrace.

But you? You’re not here for this.

With the reflexes of a seasoned avoider, you sidestep her dramatic fall, and she goes face-first into the floor. There’s a stunned silence as she lies there, unmoving, probably processing how she ended up eating dirt.

You glance over at Leona, who’s watching the whole thing with a lazy smirk, clearly enjoying the trainwreck. You give him a slight nod of approval, and he just rolls his eyes, a small grin still tugging at his lips.

The villainess, standing a few feet away, is laughing her head off. She’s doubled over, clutching her stomach, while the heroine’s dignity is scattered all over the floor. But you? You’re just staring at Leona, completely ignoring the chaos around you.

Somehow, despite all the madness, you can’t help but think: this is fine.

The day of the big spelldrive match arrives, and the heroine has never looked more confident in her life. She’s decked out in her team’s colors, standing tall at the edge of the field, waiting for you to join her in your usual spot. You know, like a loyal dog. A loyal, obedient dog who always does what she expects.

But not today.

Today, you roll up to the game decked out head to toe in full Savanaclaw merch. We're talking a custom jersey with Leona’s name on the back, a headband, face paint, and—just to really emphasize the point—a Savanaclaw banner tied around your neck like you’ve decided to cosplay as Captain Lion Fang.

You take your seat in the Savanaclaw section and immediately start hyping up the crowd like you’re getting paid for it. The heroine spots you from across the field and stares like she’s watching a crime scene unfold in real-time. Meanwhile, Leona’s already spotted you, and the smug smirk on his face tells you he’s LOVING the attention.

The game kicks off, and with each goal Leona scores, you’re going feral.

You’re screaming your lungs out, waving your banner around like you’re auditioning for some weird mascot gig. People are looking at you like you’ve lost your mind, but you don’t care. This is YOUR moment.

Leona, on the field, is living for it. Every time he glances your way, he adds a little extra flair to his plays, just to make you scream louder. He scores, and you’re on your feet, jumping up and down like you’ve won the lottery.

At this point, the heroine is practically catatonic. Her world is crumbling before her eyes. You can practically see her brain struggling to process what she’s witnessing: you, her loyal supporter, decked out in Savanaclaw gear and cheering for her rival.

“I... I don’t understand…” she whispers, her voice trembling like she’s been betrayed by the universe itself. “Why aren’t you cheering for us?”

You turn to her with all the nonchalance of someone who’s just ordered fries at a drive-thru. “Uh… Leona’s hot?”

It’s like you slapped her across the face with a wet fish. She stands there, frozen, her eyes wide, like she’s witnessing the fall of an empire. "B-But... you're supposed to support me!"

Before you can reply with another devastating truth bomb, Leona casually strolls over after winning the game, looking like he just walked out of a perfume ad. His hair’s tousled, a thin sheen of sweat making him look even more annoyingly handsome. He stops in front of you, smirking like he’s been planning this moment his entire life.

"Didn’t know you were my biggest fan," he drawls, voice low and lazy. “Gotta say, I’m impressed with your enthusiasm. Screamin’ my name like that… kinda hard to ignore.”

You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but what comes out is more of a high-pitched squeak, followed by, “Hahaha, Y-Yeah… you’re welcome?”

And then, the words that break you: “How ‘bout we celebrate with a nap?”

Your brain freezes. A nap? You? With Leona? Your heart is doing cartwheels while the rest of your organs are busy melting into a puddle. Your mouth is moving, but all that comes out is an unintelligible “Uhhuhmm.”

Leona chuckles, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist, and starts dragging you off with him—right in front of everyone. He doesn’t even care that the entire field is watching. He’s already made up his mind.

The heroine, meanwhile, is standing there in stunned silence, her brain fully blue-screening as she watches you and Leona disappear. She’s still processing the Leona’s comment when the villainess, who has been observing this whole disaster unfold, finally chimes in from the sidelines with a shrug.

“Well, as long as it’s not the heroine,” she says, flicking her hair back with an air of satisfaction. “This is fine.”

And off you go, being dragged to a nap date you’re definitely not mentally prepared for, your face burning hotter than the sun. Leona glances back at you, that smug smirk still plastered on his face. "You’re lookin’ a little red there. You sure you’re up for this?"

You sputter, tripping over your own words. "I-I’m fine! Totally fine! Nap? Cool! Casual napping! No big deal!”

Leona just chuckles again, clearly entertained by how much you're floundering. “If you say so. Just don’t pass out before we get there.”

Yeah. Don’t pass out. Easier said than done when the man of your dreams is casually dragging you off to nap like it's no big deal while your brain screams at you in ten different languages.

This is fine. Totally fine. You’re fine.

Maybe.

You were sitting with Jack and Ruggie at the cafeteria, chatting about nothing in particular—well, Jack was chatting. Ruggie was there purely because you promised to pay for his lunch. Still, you’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, he stuck around because he actually enjoyed your company. Maybe.

“So, any tips on how to deal with midterms?” Jack asked, ears twitching as he looked at you with that wide-eyed eagerness that only first-years ever had. He was honestly like a giant puppy, trying so hard to be good.

You leaned back in your chair, doing your best impression of a wise and worldly senior, which mostly involved pretending you weren’t sweating about your own midterms. “My advice? Caffeine. And if you have the chance to sleep, take it. Oh, and don’t forget to eat. I learned that one the hard way.”

Jack nodded seriously, committing it all to memory like you were passing down sacred knowledge. Meanwhile, Ruggie was on his third helping of food, barely acknowledging the conversation.

"Hey, if you're handing out wisdom, how ‘bout you tell me how to get free food more often?” Ruggie said between bites, shooting you a cheeky grin.

“Isn’t that already your specialty?” you shot back, eyeing the mountain of food in front of him.

He just laughed. “Can’t argue with that, but having backup plans never hurt.”

Before you could respond, you felt a shadow fall over the table. You looked up, half expecting it to be the heroine or some random classmate, but nope. It was Leona. Leona, who you were 99% sure had skipped class because he always skips class. And he looked… annoyed?

Oh no.

He ignored Jack and Ruggie completely, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you like you’d committed some grave crime. “Oi, herbivore,” he drawled, hands in his pockets like this wasn’t weird at all. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” you asked, blinking up at him. Leona never approached people unless he wanted something.

“To the tree,” he said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“The tree?” Jack echoed, ears perking up in confusion.

Ruggie, on the other hand, was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oho~ Someone’s in demand.”

Leona shot Ruggie a look that could’ve curdled milk. “Shut it, Ruggie.”

Your brain was still trying to process the situation. You were sitting here, minding your own business, giving sage advice about caffeine and survival, and now Leona was dragging you off to his tree like it was completely normal?

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from your seat as if this was some kind of kidnap situation, and started walking toward the courtyard.

“Uh—Leona? What’s going on?” you asked, doing your best to keep up without tripping over your own feet.

Leona didn’t even look back. “You’re talkin’ too much. Need some peace and quiet.”

You blinked, thoroughly confused but not necessarily mad about being dragged off. It’s just… “Why am I involved in your nap plans?”

“’Cause I said so.”

Wow, cryptic. You were about to ask again when you reached the tree. The infamous Leona nap spot. He plopped down against the trunk and, before you could protest, pulled you down next to him. Without another word, he stretched out and—because apparently boundaries didn’t exist—rested his head on your lap.

This was… This was happening.

You glanced around, half expecting to see a camera crew pop out and tell you this was some elaborate prank, but nope. Leona was lounging on you like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes already closed, arms crossed behind his head.

“Uh, Leona?”

“Shut up. M’ tryin’ to sleep.”

You stared down at him, your brain short-circuiting. This was the third time this week he’d done this. Just… kidnapped you for a nap. What was his deal? Was your lap particularly comfortable? Did you radiate some kind of sleepy aura? What was going on here?

Meanwhile, from the distance, you spotted her. The villainess. Watching. For the third time in as many days. And you could see it. You could see the moment she put the pieces together. Her eyes widened in slow realization, her lips twitching into a smirk. She knew. She finally knew.

When Leona finally woke up—after what felt like hours of you sitting there, too dazed to move—you were free. For now. He stretched lazily and gave you a casual “Thanks,” as if this wasn’t the most bizarre situation you’d ever been in, and you quickly scrambled away, making your way back to the dorms with your head spinning.

And that’s when the villainess cornered you.

Oh no.

There she was, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing look, her sharp gaze trained on you like a predator sizing up its prey. You swallowed nervously. She was about to confront you about the heroine, wasn’t she? This was it. This was the moment. Was she going to declare some rivalry? Challenge you to a duel? Confess to you? Make this whole thing painfully awkward?

She smiled, and it was not the evil grin you were expecting. “I’m on your side.”

You blinked. “…What?”

She pushed off the wall, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with a new kind of intensity. “Leona. I know you’re after him.”

Your heart stopped. This was it. She was going to call you out and—wait, what did she just say?

“I’ll help you confess to Leona,” she said, matter-of-factly. “On one condition.”

You were staring at her like she’d just sprouted wings and started speaking in tongues. “You… will?”

She nodded. “Yes. If you help me become more influential than that heroine, I’ll help you get Leona to notice you more.”

You blinked again, processing her words. She wanted your help to outshine the heroine, and in exchange, she’d be your wingwoman? Wingwoman?!

You grinned, holding out your hand for a dramatic shake. “Hell yeah.”

She clasped your hand, her smile mirroring yours. "Consider it a deal."

And just like that, you walked away from the most unexpected alliance of your life, fully equipped with a villainess-turned-wingwoman and a new plan to win over Leona.

Honestly? Life was getting weirder by the day.

“Okay, so just to confirm,” Ruggie’s eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “You want us to sit through this poetry reading,” he said, drawing out the word like it was some cursed phrase, “and cheer for the villainess. And in return, I get all the food left over?”

“Yup,” you nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“And Jack’s here because…?”

“I asked him nicely.”

Jack shrugged, tail flicking behind him. “I’m just here to help.”

Ruggie snorted, glancing at you with a grin. “This better be some damn good poetry then. And the food better be worth it.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, patting Ruggie on the back. “It will be.”

Little did you know, this was going to be a disaster of epic proportions.

The poetry reading started as expected—with the heroine striding up to the front of the room, practically glowing under the dim spotlight. She cleared her throat, clasped her hands dramatically, and began.

“It was a night… much like tonight…”

Your first instinct was to cringe, but you held it in, glancing sideways at Jack and Ruggie. Jack was doing his best to stay stoic, but you could see his ears twitching in discomfort. Ruggie had his hand over his mouth, clearly biting back laughter.

The poem continued, painfully dragging on about stars and roses and something about “destiny’s kiss.” By the time she reached the end, there was a collective sigh of relief from the audience. You weren’t even sure what you had just listened to, but you knew it wasn’t good.

Jack… Jack was crying. You stared at him, horrified. “Are you okay?”

“It’s… it’s so bad,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know poetry could be this bad.”

Ruggie had his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “This is better than I thought,” he wheezed.

You shot him a look, but even you had to admit, this was pure comedy gold. Poor Jack had no idea what hit him.

The villainess, bless her heart, was watching all of this unfold with a look of shock and confusion, but when it was finally her turn to read, she stepped up like a queen. Her voice was smooth, the words flowing like silk, and you couldn’t help but be genuinely impressed. She absolutely killed it.

The plan was working perfectly. You and your crew started clapping, cheering like you were at a rock concert. Jack, who was still recovering from the emotional trauma of the heroine’s poem, clapped too, albeit more quietly.

But just as you were about to get even louder, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Oi, sit down,” Leona grumbled, pulling you back into your seat.

“What—?”

He didn’t offer any explanation, just kept you firmly seated next to him, his face set in a bored expression. You blinked in confusion but decided not to argue. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy sitting next to Leona… it was just weird.

And by the grin the villainess was sporting, it seems like everything went exactly according to plan. Both for her and you.

After the poetry reading wrapped up, you gathered the leftovers like you promised. Ruggie was already hovering around, practically drooling over the spread.

“Here, take it all,” you said, handing the basket over. “Deal’s a deal.”

Ruggie beamed, clutching the food to his chest like a treasure hoard. “Pleasure doing business with ya!”

Jack was much more polite, bowing his head slightly. “Thanks for the notes. They’ll be a big help.”

“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, watching the two of them head off. Ruggie was already halfway through a sandwich, talking a mile a minute, while Jack followed along, still looking like he might need therapy after the heroine’s performance.

That left you alone… with Leona, who had been standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you asked, half-expecting him to complain about something. He always had something to complain about.

“You mind explaining what the hell that was?”

“Uh… what do you mean?”

Leona’s tail flicked in irritation, his eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about you, whispering and giggling with that villainess all the time. What, you after her now that you ditched the heroine?”

You blinked at him, utterly baffled. “What? No, of course not. Why would I be after her?”

Leona’s jaw clenched. “You tell me. All I’ve seen is you hangin’ around with her, whispering, plottin’... I’ve seen how you look at her.”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

Oh my god. He was jealous.

A slow grin spread across your face as the realization sunk in. Leona, Leona Kingscholar, was jealous. And over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re jealous~.”

Leona froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. “What?”

“You’re jealous,” you repeated, giddiness bubbling up inside you. You could barely contain your excitement. “You’re jealous of me hanging out with the villainess!”

Leona’s lips pulled into a thin line. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh no, no, no,” you grinned even wider, poking him in the chest. “You’re totally jealous!”

Leona growled, looking thoroughly annoyed now, but before he could snap back, you quickly explained. “Look, I made a deal with her. I help her become more influential than the heroine, and she helps me… confess to you.”

Leona blinked, taken aback, his tail flicking behind him as if processing the information. Then, in true Leona fashion, his expression shifted from irritation to smugness in record time.

“Oh?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah, so you don’t have to worry about me chasing after anyone else.”

Leona stepped closer, his voice dropping low, that usual lazy drawl making your heart do a little flip. “Good. But just so you know, cheek kisses aren’t real kisses.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Leona leaned in and kissed you—properly kissed you. Your eyes went wide for a second before you melted into it, feeling the heat of his lips against yours. He pulled back after what felt like forever, a smirk on his face as he watched you try to catch your breath.

“There. That’s a real kiss,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

You stared at him, dazed, and then a sudden realization hit you.

You left your entire life behind, all for this moment.

And you were so, so glad that stupid plushie was on the floor, because this? This was totally worth it.

The heroine’s voice was as sweet as it was grating, like sugar poured directly into your ears. She fluttered her eyelashes at you, her smile stretched painfully wide. “So, I was thinking,” she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “You would make the perfect knight for my family! Don’t you think so?”

You blinked, trying to figure out a way to escape. “Uh… I’m kind of busy with, you know, my own life?”

“Oh, but imagine!” she gushed, not hearing a word you said. “We’d be so close all the time—like, so close. You could protect me, and maybe… we could have a picnic under the stars? Very romantic, right?”

Your soul was trying to leave your body. You were pretty sure Jack’s ears twitched somewhere nearby, sensing your pain telepathically. And then, like a gift from the heavens, the villainess—your beloved accomplice in all things anti-heroine—made her appearance.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, stepping between you and the heroine with the grace of someone who had seen this movie before and knew exactly how to cut to the good parts. “But I need them for an urgent matter. A very important, not-at-all-romantic-but-very-necessary mission.”

You shot her a look of pure gratitude, but before she could fully rescue you from the heroine’s death trap of unwanted flirting, a shadow loomed over the scene. A very familiar shadow.

Leona.

Without saying a word, he strode up behind you and casually wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest with an ease that had your heart skipping a beat. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his sharp green eyes fixed on the heroine.

“Oh no, carry on,” he said lazily, but his tone was anything but. “I’m just here to see what my mate is up to.”

The heroine blinked in shock, her hands hovering mid-air as if she had no idea what to do with this development. “Y-Your mate?”

“Yeah,” Leona said, tightening his grip around you, his smirk downright feral. “So whatever little fantasy you’re cooking up about romantic picnics or whatever—cut it out. This one’s mine.”

You felt Leona’s lips brush against your temple before he leaned in and, in full view of the now-utterly-horrified heroine, kissed the side of your neck. Slowly. Possessively.

You could almost hear the villainess muffling a laugh behind her hand.

The heroine’s face turned several shades of red as she stammered. “B-But I—”

“You,” Leona said, his tone dripping with amusement, “can fuck right off.”

The heroine gasped, her hand flying to her chest like she’d been physically struck. “You can’t just say that to me!”

Leona raised a brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m literally the second prince. I can say whatever the hell I want.”

The heroine opened her mouth to argue, but then realized that, no, actually, she couldn’t argue with the literal second prince staking his claim. She sputtered for a moment before storming off, no doubt to sob dramatically about her dashed romantic hopes.

Once she was out of sight, the villainess finally let out a snort of laughter. “That was beautiful.”

Leona ignored her, his grip still firm around you as he leaned down to whisper, “Next time, you won’t need her to help you out. Just say my name, and I’ll be there to deal with the pests.”

You stared at him, a little dazed from the whole whirlwind of possessiveness, public displays of affection, and telling someone to ‘fuck right off.’ “You really went for it, huh?”

Leona smirked, leaning in for another kiss. “Damn right I did. And don’t you forget it.”

Somewhere behind you, the villainess was still giggling. You were pretty sure this was going to be gossip for weeks.

But honestly? Totally worth it.

Graduation day—the moment where everyone’s future plans would be declared, and all the chess pieces would fall into place. Or, in your case, the moment where you’d cause absolute chaos.

The grand hall was filled with eager anticipation. Everyone was dressed in their formal graduation robes, students buzzing with excitement over their new titles and responsibilities.

Leona, as expected, lounged at the back like a lion who had better things to do, half-asleep. Villainess stood tall and composed, already plotting her return to her family's estate. Heroine was in full glowing mode, ready to take her place as the beloved of the Grand Duchy.

And you? You stood at the podium, trying not to laugh. You knew what you were about to say would flip this graduation upside down.

One by one, people made their announcements.

When it was finally your turn, all eyes turned to you. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, knowing the original male lead—you—was supposed to be the retainer of the heroine. It was all set, all according to plan, right?

Wrong.

You cleared your throat, glanced briefly at Leona who smirked lazily, and then made the declaration that would throw this script straight out the window. “I’ve decided to serve as Prince Leona’s right-hand man, personal secretary, and...well, whatever he needs.”

The silence that followed was glorious. Pure, dumbfounded silence.

King Falena, sitting in the front row, visibly blinked. Once. Twice. He tilted his head slightly, confusion written all over his usually composed face. “What?” he muttered, looking like someone just told him a desert hyena had enrolled in ballet school.

Leona, however, didn’t even open his eyes. He just smirked, crossing his arms smugly. “Told ya he’d choose me,” he murmured, almost too casually for someone who’d just stolen the original male lead’s entire plotline.

Falena’s gaze flicked between you and Leona, still processing. Then, slowly, realization dawned. He saw that look on Leona’s face—the one that said “mine, and I dare anyone to challenge it.” King Falena’s confusion morphed into surprise and then, with the subtlety of a royal diplomat, resignation. “Oh…” he whispered, finally understanding. “He’s down bad.”

Leona cracked an eye open just to catch his brother’s expression and grinned wider, like a cat who knew exactly what kind of bird it had in its claws.

Your parents, bless them, were in the crowd with expressions of supportive confusion. Your mother was squinting as if trying to work out if this was some sort of royal prank. Your father leaned in toward her, whispering loudly enough for the entire row to hear, “It’s a royal job, right? That’s prestigious?”

“Yeah, but… Leona?” your mom whispered back.

At this point, the heroine stood up, ready to throw a wrench into the works. “Wait! You’re supposed to be my—"

Before she could finish, the villainess, in all her dramatic glory, made her move. With the grace of a queen and the audacity of a mastermind, she stepped right up to the heroine, flipped her luxurious hair, and said, “Actually, I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked. Wait, what?

The entire room gasped. You could almost hear heads snapping toward the villainess like a collective whip crack.

Heroine’s mouth opened and closed like she was a fish drowning in air. “I—what?”

“Dinner. Candlelight. Maybe a picnic. You and me, a date. Sound good?” The villainess winked with such charm that even the professors in the back were wide-eyed.

Heroine blinked rapidly, as if trying to reboot her brain. “Uh… sure?” she squeaked, still reeling from the fact that her entire romantic arc had just gotten hijacked.

You stared at the villainess in pure confusion. “What just happened?” you whispered, looking at her for an explanation.

The villainess simply turned to you with a mischievous grin, giving you a sly thumbs-up like this had been part of her master plan all along.

You were still processing the fact that you were witnessing the greatest plot twist of all time. You returned a half-hearted, bewildered thumbs-up, unsure if this was a win or not.

Meanwhile, the professors up front were clearly on their last thread of patience. The head of the academy rubbed his temples, sighing deeply as if this whole day had aged him a decade. “That’s it,” he said, voice strained with exhaustion. “Everyone’s graduated. Just...leave. Please.”

And with that, the ceremony abruptly ended. You couldn’t help but laugh at the professor’s exasperation as the crowd started to disperse, still buzzing with gossip.

Leona slid up next to you, his hand casually resting on your waist as you walked out of the hall together. “So, my right-hand man, huh?”

You shrugged. “Figured I might as well make it official.”

Leona smirked, leaning down to murmur in your ear, “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And then he kissed you. In front of everyone.

King Falena, witnessing this public display of territorial claims, just shook his head with a resigned sigh. “Well, as long as it’s official…” he muttered, casting an approving glance toward you. “Congratulations, I guess.”

Your parents were still in shock, but when they saw that it was a royal seal of approval, they immediately switched gears. “A royal job!” your mom whispered excitedly. “That’s so prestigious!”

With that, Leona tugged you away from the chaos, his arm never leaving your waist as you walked toward the exit. You glanced back one last time to see the heroine still staring blankly at the villainess, who had now looped her arm around her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The head of the academy, now red in the face, shouted after you as you reached the door, “I SAID EVERYONE GO, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GREAT SEVEN!”

You walked out into the sunlight, trying not to laugh, while Leona leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured smugly, “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was a day like any other, except you were meeting the villainess in her newly acquired estate. She had officially taken over as the head of her family, and the new title suited her all too well. The whole place screamed, I am in charge, with a side of don’t even think about challenging me unless you want to cry in public. You admired the aesthetic.

The villainess greeted you with her usual regal flair, sweeping into the room like she’d been born to dominate it—which, to be fair, she had. She offered you tea, which you politely declined, sensing that this wasn’t just a casual catch-up.

"So, what's new with you, Lady Villainess?” you asked, leaning back, fully expecting some grand declaration about her political conquests or business victories.

She smiled—a dangerous, knowing smile that made you immediately suspicious. "Well, I wanted to tell you something rather... unexpected."

You raised an eyebrow. Unexpected? Coming from her? That had to be good.

"I'm dating the heroine," she said casually, sipping her tea as if she hadn't just dropped the biggest plot twist since the whole 'villainess takes over' arc.

You nearly choked on absolutely nothing, mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. "Wait. What?"

She smiled serenely, her expression the perfect picture of innocence—which made it all the more ridiculous. “Yes, darling. The heroine and I are officially a couple.”

You blinked. “The same heroine who couldn’t tell a poisoned apple from a regular one if her life depended on it?”

“The very same.”

“The one who gets lost in her own estate if she turns too many corners?”

“Yes, that one.”

You couldn't help it. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit you, and you burst out laughing. "Oh, that is rich. How in the world did that happen?”

The villainess leaned back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “Oh, it was simple, really. I realized I was always drawn to her... naiveté. And once I stopped trying to sabotage her every move, well, things just fell into place.”

You were still laughing, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you two, but this is the best thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

The villainess gave you a mock glare. “Don’t act so surprised. I’ve always had impeccable taste.”

“Oh, impeccable taste, huh?” you teased. “I just didn’t expect it to lead you straight to a walking ball of sunshine.”

“Well, someone needs to keep her from wandering into traffic.”

Still snickering, you stood up. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re a saint for dealing with her.”

“I know,” she sighed dramatically, “but love makes us do ridiculous things.”

"Tell me about it," you muttered, still amused. You waved goodbye and promised to catch up later, your mind reeling from this new, absolutely hilarious development.

When you got back to the palace, you found Leona lounging in his usual spot, sprawled out on a couch like a lion that had just taken over the whole savannah. He barely glanced up as you walked in, already sensing the amused energy radiating off you.

“You’re grinning like an idiot,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “What happened?”

You plopped down next to him, barely containing your laughter. “You won’t believe this. The villainess is dating the heroine now.”

Leona’s eyes flicked open, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t believe you. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face as he processed the information. “You’re messing with me.”

“Nope. Dead serious. They’re a couple now. In love.” You leaned in, grinning. “The villainess—ice queen herself—is head over heels for Miss Pure Sunshine.”

Leona actually chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. Never saw that one coming.”

“I know, right? It’s the most chaotic thing ever, and I am living for it.”

Leona’s smirk turned into a full-on grin, which was rare enough to be considered a national treasure. He shifted, sitting up slightly. “You think we’ll get an invite to the wedding?”

You snorted. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be front row just to see how she manages to keep the heroine from accidentally setting her own dress on fire.”

Leona’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, and he reached out, grabbing your wrist. “Come here,” he ordered, tugging you toward him.

“What? No, I’ve got work to do,” you protested weakly, but your protests didn’t mean much when he effortlessly pulled you into his lap.

“Work can wait. This is more important,” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around you in a possessive hug that made it very clear you weren’t going anywhere.

You sighed, leaning into him. “You just want to cuddle, don’t you?”

“I want you to stop running around and actually relax for once,” he retorted, resting his chin on top of your head. “Besides, it’s not like the kingdom’s gonna fall apart if we take a break.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I should get a promotion. I’m basically doing all the work around here.”

Leona chuckled again, his grip tightening just slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t let Falena hear that. He might actually make you his advisor, and then I’ll never get any alone time with you.”

You snorted. “Oh please, you’d just kidnap me from work if that happened.”

“Damn right,” he muttered, his voice low and satisfied. “You’re mine, remember?”

You felt your heart do that annoying flutter thing as Leona’s possessive tone settled over you. Even when he was being a lazy lion, he made you feel like the most important thing in his life. It was comforting—and kind of hilarious, considering how little he cared about everything else.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, and for once, you actually allowed yourself to relax, leaning into Leona’s warmth. His arms tightened around you again, and you could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he started to drift off into a nap, his grip never loosening.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but think that, despite all the absurdities in your life—from slipping on a plushie to your best friend falling in love with her former rival—you wouldn’t trade any of it. Not for the world.

And as Leona’s breath slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep, you allowed yourself a small, contented smile.

Life was chaotic. But it was also perfect.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Idia won the previous poll! Now for the next,

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x you #leona kingscholar #leona #trash novel chronicles #isekai #m!reader

928 notes · View notes

thewitchandtheassassin · 27 days ago

Text

Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part One (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Bound together by power and fate, you and Rio are undeniably tied, but Agatha Harkness was something unexpected - yet in the end...

Words: 1664

Warnings: Canon deaths, AAA, uh... language, child birth kinda? Angsty? I dunno, there's things.

A/N: A retake and partial redo of AAA (in the sense of "what if"). This is gonna be a... four part series? I think?

-X-

Cries of pain echoed throughout the trees as Agatha stumbled towards the water, body finding purchase against the trunk of a tree as another contraction washed over her. Everything ached, but she didn’t care. All she had worked for was so close. She just needed a little more strength and her child would be tucked into her arms, a beacon of her love.

She hardly noticed the unnatural silence that befell the forest, the wind dying into nothing more than an occasional puff of air. All she could see was- feel, hear - was the sound of her own heartbeat.

Glancing up as another cramp hit, she caught sight of two familiar figures lingering near. The beating of her heart quickened, so overwhelmed at the prospect of you both being there to meet your son, but the identical expressions you wore sent her heart plummeting.

He is not mine, you conveyed to Rio regretfully, tears prickling the corner of your eyes.

Life and Death stood, watching critically over the mortal who’d stolen their hearts. While bound together forever in a way no one would ever understand or be capable of recreating, you had both found the tiny piece you were missing within Agatha. You’d found a middle ground.

Death took a step forward.

Life took two steps back.

“It cannot be,” Agatha breathed, inching away from the green witch as she neared.

You could feel Rio’s heart cracking, felt the anguish and guilt rushing over her.

“It must be,” she replied gently.

“You do this and I will hate you forever,” Agatha spat fearfully, glancing between you. “Both of you.”

A sob clawed its way up your throat, suffocating and vile. This was the hardest moment you’d ever been summoned to.

“Please let him live!” Agatha cried. “Please, my loves. Don’t take him from me.”

Pleas began falling like tears, and your entire being called out to you. Begged you to rush to her side. To heal your son.

Rio’s eyes drifted closed for a moment before a dark stare met Agatha. You could see the parts of Rio warring. Her nature and her love clashing together in a battle, both reaching out to Agatha before being yanked back.

“I can offer only time.”

She peered at you. Save him.

Your feet moved before you could fully comprehend what was happening. Your knees hit the dirt in front of Agatha, warm light shining from your hands as they touched her swollen belly.

Looking over your shoulder at Rio, you watched the veil that separated you from mortals swirl around her.

Tell him of me, she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks in rivets.

All the time, my love, you vowed.

Attention returning to Agatha, you smiled up at her faintly. “Let’s bring our boy into the world, shall we?”

-X-

Years passed. Years of joining your love to decide the fate of a life. Years of watching your little boy grow, watching him become sick, watching him grow frail and tired…

Watching your lover kill in hopes of distracting your other lover. Watching her use your son to do it but never allowing Rio too close. Watching Agatha grow colder. Meaner. Deadlier.

As life comes and goes, you were often pulled away from Nicholas, helping the other piece of your soul collect and distribute life and death as needed. But for the times you were with him, watching him blossom and shrink, you never let him forget about the woman who offered him time.

As you stepped through the trees, veil falling away into your human form, you watched the beautiful smile break across Nicky’s face before he was bounding into your arms, clinging to you like a lifeline.

“Mother! You are back!” he beamed up at you, his thin arms gripping you as tight as he could. It was devastating to see the sickness ravaging him, knowing you could do nothing to change it.

“Hello, my littlest love,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his long hair before peering over his head at Agatha. “And my tall love.”

“If you are here, will I see Mami tonight in my dreams?” Nicky whispered into your ear, shrieking happily as you lifted him, tossing him over your shoulder and holding him tightly as his little feet kicked.

“Maybe.”

Agatha rolled her eyes affectionately as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, Nicky thrown playfully over your shoulder and squealing as you swung him about. She was surprised to see you return so soon, and her heart thumped painfully as she thought to Rio.

As the afternoon progressed into night, Nicky regaled you with tales of their exploits. Your heart ached, knowing the reasons behind Agatha’s choices but refusing to discourage your son from telling his vivid stories. You were so… angry with Agatha, for doing this to him, but in another life, maybe you would’ve done the same.

After he was tucked onto a small pallet, blanket right around his frail form, you joined Agatha at the edge of the water. Staring out into the darkness, you spoke softly, “This has bid you some time but you know this cannot stop the inevitable, my love.”

Bristling, Agatha turned to walk away, unwilling to hear your truths, but a steady hand caught her.

“You need to hear me, Agatha. She has given all she can. She has fought the universe to keep him here; avoided her own son so that Death would not call him home yet. But we cannot keep him here. He is not meant to be here, yet we let him walk and talk and be here with you. And you still hate her for the time she has allowed me to give him. Without her, he never would have taken his first breath. You need to unbury your head from the sands and accept we cannot change fate anymore than we have.”

Eyes flaring purple with fury, Agatha shoved you but you did not waver. “You are essentially gods! Yet one child unravels the cosmos? Fate? He is my son and you want to let her take him from me!”

“He is our son,” you corrected sharply. “He is her son. As much as he is mine or yours. She made him as we did. She does not get to watch him grow as we did. Hold him. Love him. Because she wanted to grant you time with him and yet you spit in her face!”

Staring into the reddened face of your lover, you softened slightly. “She loves Nicholas. I love Nicholas. And we love you. Gods know we do not wish to hurt you. But he is sick. His body is tired. You know there is only one way.”

“If you cannot understand why I do what I must to keep him here, maybe you should leave,” Agatha whispered, eyes filling with anger and tears. “I will do whatever I can to save him.”

Bowing your head, you tugged her into a tight embrace, pressing your lips to the crown of her head as she cried silently against your chest. It was raw and painful and you knew this was the last time you would see her for a very long time.

By the time she wandered back to camp, you were gone.

-X-

The shadows of night surrounded you as you and Rio approached the campsite one night, hand in hand. Her eerie green torch illuminated the path, her true form hidden beneath a familiar guise.

“I don’t want to scare him,” she had mumbled, cheek resting against your shoulder as time ticked down.

The heavy fall winds dragged Nicholas from his slumber and he slowly sat upright, eyes landing upon the eerie light. His eyes brightened before dimming, realization crashing into his chest. He peered down, watching his body remain as he stood.

Rio gestured for him to kiss his mother and he obeyed, whispering, “I love you,” before meeting you and Rio at the forest edge.

She cupped his cheek sweetly, thumb soothing on his paling flesh. “It’s time, love.”

“I am afraid,” he admitted shyly, wide eyes flickering between you as if ashamed of the admittance.

Crouching down, both of your hands found his lithe shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, letting light and warmth pour from you. “We will be with you every step, darling. I swear it.”

He peered over at Agatha, eyes shimmering in the green light. “I do not fear dying, but I do not want Mama to be alone. She is going to be so lonely.”

Your chest seized painfully.

“Our sweet, wonderful boy,” you breathed, peeking up at your partner, who stared at Nicky adoringly. “I promise, we will not be far from her, even if she cannot see us. Even if she is angry. She is etched into our bones and we will not stray far.”

“I will miss her,” he murmured, “But I will see her again one day?”

“Yes, sweetheart, and someday, we shall be a family again. A complete family.” Looking at Rio, you smiled sadly and cupped her face with your free hand. “One day, we shall never be apart again.”

“A complete family,” Nicholas repeated with a smile, peering up at Rio. “With Mami this time.”

Carefully making your way to the bridge, shadows and light swirled around as you passed through the veil and Nicholas was brought into the embrace of his mother’s domain. You were not ignorant to the pain that would overtake Agatha when the sun rose above the horizon, so once Nicholas found the space crafted especially for him, you returned to the mortal plane and stood above the resting witch.

Stooping down, you patiently maneuvered Nicholas’ mortal body in Agatha’s arms, tucking his blanket tight around him before pressing a butterfly soft kiss to Agatha’s temple.

“I am sorry, my love,” you muttered, pecking her temple again before disappearing with the morning light, soul aching as her wails crested the treetops.

#agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal imagine #rio vidal x reader #reader insert #agatha all along #reader imagine #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #agatha harkness #reader

791 notes · View notes