#but the worst thing you can do is get adopted
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đ LSBC Questions: Part 20! đ
Lock, Shock, Barrel, and Calliope questions that call for quick answers will be under the cut in batches of 10-15 đ§Ą
Previous bulk questions batch
She wants to adopt every dog she meets honestly đĽš
If Oogie was in a gambling mood it usually wasn't a good thing.
Something equal parts dangerous and hilarious apparently! [x]
They already have their skincare routines down!
There's a couple of those in the lb tag đ Barrel is very romantic and Lock loves to be showered with affection as long as it's in private.
Thank you! And yes! They do prank each other on occasion. Gotta keep each other sharp! [1] [2] [3]
He did at first (and was too "cool" to tell anyone) but now he's an expert at capturing them.
Mike Cachuela, who helped design the trio, stated how he spoke with Henry Selik, the director of the movie, about who the trio could be. The initial concept was that that they were tasked with keeping Oogie Boogie imprisoned and feeding him bugs. However, this concept was later changed so the trio would be Oogie's henchmen instead.
No, all three of them love their natural hair colors! (Which, lucky, I've been dying my own hair for 10 years lol)
She gets up, makes herself some tea, and reads her potion book to clear her mind. If that's not enough, she'll go for a flight.
No. I'm aware he returns in several spinoffsâOogie's Revenge, Kingdom Hearts II, one of the novelsâbut this AU uses the movie as the sole source material. Resurrecting Oogie is an easy way to reintroduce peril and doesn't require writers to explore who the trio are without him. That separation, freedom, happiness, and concept of the trio stepping into their own identities is exactly what I want to explore!
(Zero's Journey is my favorite tnbc book because the trio are shown carrying on happily without Oogie for once and I love that!)
âď¸[SENSITIVE: TOPICS OF ABUSE]
The trio state that they believe they will be harmed for failure / displeasing Oogie across multiple media:
____
"We can't say, the boss'll whomp us if we do!" (whomp, verb: to strike heavily) - Lock [source: game, The Pumpkin King]
The trio tremble visibly at Oogie's feet, holding onto each other as he reveals his plans. [source: game, Kingdom Hearts I]
In an interview Stephen mentions that, out of the three of them, Oogie might be meanest towards Lock or treat him the worst. [source: Stephen Buckley, one of the main animators on the movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas]
"If I were on his Boogie list, I'd get out of town." / "We do our best to please him and stay on his good side." - Lock, Shock [source: movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas]
"Jack will beat us black and green." - Lock, Shock [source: movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas] Through Jack has never shown himself to be physically violent, the trio assume all authority figures show their displeasure in this way.
"Don't hurt us, Jack! She's with Oogie!" - Lock [source: game, The Pumpkin King]
"Looks like my no-good henchmen thought they'd cool their heels in Halloween Town 'stead of helpin' the boss man do his job...well, I can decide which of 'em I want to eat later." - Oogie Boogie [source: game, Disney Magic Kingdoms]
The camera pans out, displaying the masks of several previously devoured trick-or-treaters on the treehouse walls. None of these fit the trio's faces, revealing that Oogie has eaten several children the past. [source: movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas]
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Hiii I saw you were doing snippets so I wanted to drop by. Hope you're doing okay <3
Here's an idea: Shen Jiu adopting a spirit wolf. (It's the wolf who adopted SJ but shhh) Maybe SJ managed to get away from WYZ after burning the Qiu's and happened to cross paths with one.
Itâs the eyes that he sees first.
Large. Silver. Peering from the shadows where even the hallowed touch of moonlight does not dare to sweep.
He should run.
He cannot.
After so long being deprived of everything but the bare minimum to keep him alive, his body is weak where it counts. He managed to escape the scene of his first murder. He managed to escape the clutches of the demonic cultivator that followed, hoping the drugging flowers he brewed into tea were strong enough to kill the man where his weak hands were not.
He is not stupid enough to believe he can escape the creature before him. Not when he hasnât eaten in days, and the bones of his leg send fire through him with every jostle. Broken, after a tumble down the jagged ravine in the dark.
Shen Jiu always knew the world hated him- he did not think it so ironic to die like this. A pathetic beast, made a midnight dinner for a wolf.
That didnât mean he intended to make it easy.
âBring it on, then,â he hissed into the night, brandishing the largest stick his numb fingers could find. âDo your worst.â
A growl reverberated from the shadows, those bright, unblinking eyes moving as the creature stalked forward, its pelt shining as it stepped out into the light.
It was huge. From the wicked black claws on the tips of each paw to the glinting ivory of its teeth, the wolf was probably as large as a man. It tilted its head up, scenting the hair with a huff.
Even in the low light, Shen Jiu could see the hackles rise.
Shen Jiu braced to swing his branch as fervently as he could, and several things happened all at once.
A flash of steel came at him from one side.
An all too familiar shout echoed in the night.
And the wolf pivoted at the last moment, redirecting its lunge.
Wu Yanzi screamed as the canines of the beast tore into his skin, something dark splattering among the leaves and other debris of the forest floor. The sword he had attempted to fling at the young escapee thudded into the woods, thrown off course, and Shen Jiu pressed himself up against the trees until the painful howling of his latest captor fell to muffled struggles, and then silence.
His stick shook lightly in his hand.
He couldnât run.
The wolf moved, hard to track in the darkness, with the low rustle of something dragging through the foliage. Away from Shen Jiu.
With a pained gasp, the teen rolled over, and began to drag himself away, claiming the sword that was left amid the roots along the way.
***
Thereâs a haze that comes with infection. Living on the streets, heâd learned to recognize it well, and now he can tell itâs come to visit him again.
His leg aches, angry and red with purple blotches after a day of struggling through the woods alone. So far, he has had no other trouble- only a brief encounter with a snake that was quickly handled with his stolen steel.
But heâs hungry. And it hurts, every time he struggles to push forward. If he laid his head down for just a moment, surely he can find the will to push further. Just for a momentâŚ
Just⌠for a momentâŚ
***
The branch whacks him in the face.
He startles awake with a curse, his leg throbbing in agony as he attempts to evade the attack, batting away his attacker with clumsy hands.
Something cracks in the brush above him, and Shen Jiuâs eyes dart up to meet anotherâs in the fading light of the sunset.
Large. Silver. Cloaked by swaths of sleek, white fur with a dark stripe down its ears and muzzle, and a patch on its forehead that looks strangely similar to a flower.
The wolf.
The great beast leaps from its place overhead, landing without hardly a sound, pacing a slow circle around him, its gaze too focused, too sharp.
âCome to finish the job, have you?â Shen Jiu snarls, baring his teeth. He has a sword now. He still canât escape, but he could at least try to take the damn thing with him. Even with the dizziness that plagues him, he should at least be able to make it bleed.
He doesnât expect to wolf to pick the aforementioned branch up in its teeth and throw it at him.
He splutters, throwing a hand up to guard his face even as something soft and smooth brushes against his wrist from within the bundle of leaves. Small white flowers dot the stems, and there, hidden in the center, is a cluster of plums.
Three of them, ripe and nearly bursting with flesh, practically begging to be eaten.
The wolf turns, and lopes away into the trees.
âŚThe juice is sweet, and sticky where it clings to Shen Jiuâs chin.
***
His leg aches. He ignores it as best as he can, limping through the trees. Hunger does not gnaw at him so fiercely, but thirst has made its name known.
He finds a small stream, looking clear and clean enough. His body is weak as he all but dunks his head under, gulping down as much as he can stand without risking throwing it all back up.
After, he lays on the wide rocks of the bank, watching the sky wheel overhead as his body rebels once more.
He feels so hot, and cold, and sweaty, but itâs too dry and if he touches the water too much heâs going to die. Nothing quite makes sense and he canât quite feel his own body anymore.
Heâs so tired.
He wonders if this was the last experience he and Qi-ge would share- dying alone in the woods with no one there to care.
***
He wakes to something warm, and soft.
The scent of the woods surrounds him, pulls him close as his brother once did, whispering sweet dreams of far off freedoms and strength, and for the first time in a long time, Shen Jiu is slow to wake.
Let it be soft. Let it be warm. Let him have this, this one last mercy, before hell finds him once again.
The pulse of something safe, that latches on to that place hidden deep inside him, neither quite flesh nor phantasmal force.
Wu Yanzi had brushed against it, once, when he pretended to be a just and benevolent teacher. The roots that bound his spirit to his body.
His meridians.
He blinks his eyes open, one hand curling tight in the pale pelt that stretches next to him.
He blinks.
The wolf blinks back.
âIf youâre going to follow me, that makes you mine,â Shen Jiu croaks. âThat means Iâm in charge and you have to do what I say.â
The pulse of qi he receives seems to be a happy agreement.
He allows the wolf to wiggle under him, lifting his small form onto its large back as it turns towards the heart of the woods.
Heâs tiredâŚ
But⌠His leg doesnât hurt anymore.
#thank you for stopping by <3#might do a longer version of this on my A03 actually#writing prompts#svsss ficlet#svsss#mxtx svsss#shen qingqiu#mxtx#shen jiu
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One Piece Crack Ship War - Round 3 side B
Both edits made by @fivedayslater
Propaganda under the cut.
SaboSan:
Hear me out: they have so much in common to bond over. 1) terrible Birth family that at some point imprisoned them. 2) nobility that ran off to do crimes against the world government instead. 3) blonde. 4) Fire based attacks. And then you add the stuff thats different. Hand vs feet, cook vs big eater, Also they both care a LOT about the ppl important to them (loving luffy is a character trait they share). Also I just think it'd be funny bc sanji keeps getting shipped with men who light his cigarette and sabo can do that too. (Although the trend for those characters...) I also generally think they would get along.
Both of high birth, hated ever second of it, and ran off to sea about it, I think they have a lot in common. Also they're both blond, deal with fire, and their names start with Sa clearly this is the true end game Oda had in mind.
Two blond haired, blue eyed nobles who were abused by their families, ran away from home, only to be adopted/found a new home, and contributed to Luffy's abandonment issues
Sanji's worst nightmare: I just think Sanji would have Nightmares about it, which both Zeff and Ivankov find very appealing about the whole thing.
#one piece#op crack ship war#sabosan#sanji's worst nightmare#black leg sanji#sabo#emporio ivankov#red leg zeff#tournament poll#round 3#side b
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https://www.tumblr.com/transingthoseformers/766447053745340416/okay-actually-now-im-thinking-about-the-terrans?source=share
if TFP verse, they are obviously getting adopted again by Soundwave and Soundwave alone. Does not care what Megatron says, they are his now.
The Autobot would assume the worst (except Optimus because he would remember how exactly Soundwave IS.)
Megatron would be dreading it cuz oh primus he KNOWS how Soundwave IS. (He refused to lose the loyalty of his follower as well as friend.)
Dreadwing would be more than happy to properly teach Twitch how to use her swords once he finds out she can use her wings as swords.
Shockwave would be curious of them but contact would have to be limited without harm (much to his irritation). At least ONE of the Terrans (Night) would be against learning a thing or two. (also limited but also overseen, much always be cautious with science.)
Knockout would protest at first but Breakdown would convince him to check on the Terrans for daily check ups (no he is totally not being a softly after a while.)
Starscream would probs be scheming as usual before relunctantly taking up sitter for the fliers (daily routine for taking to the air is good.)
Vehicons neutral about it before coming around the first week. (Totally not corrupting the Terrans with mischief, nope nope! (theyare >:3))
EVERYONE AGREES THAT AIRACHNID SHOULD NOT BE NEAR THE TERRANS, NO FURTHER QUESTIONS ASKED. (she got called creepy spider lady when met.)
if Bayverse? "SAVE THE CHILDREN- HEY NO WE DO NOT STICK THAT IN OUR MOUTHS SPIT IT OUT!- YOU! GET DOWN FROM THERE- Who Gave You Swords?!?!? "
Optimus would have his hands full (his team left him to suffer... Ironhide you traitor-)
God I'm just thinking about Shockwave returning to the Nemesis (maybe with Predaking in tow?) and having questions about the new terran residents
The idea of Soundwave immediately adopting them as his own is adorable, especially since this is tfp Soundwave we're talking about here
AWW ON POSSIBLE INTERACTIONS WITH TWITCH AND DREADWING
oh God yeah the terrans are going to be shocked by a lot of the things they can find out.
Soooo many fun things possible here
Love the little suggestion that while everyone's keeping the kids away from Airachnid, they'll meet eventually (I think it would be very funny if she plain old doesn't know what to think of them, but she wonders if the decepticons are going soft for a bit)
Also the insecticons immediately determine them to be larva/grubs who are to be taught the ways of the hive. Maybe.
As far as bayverse, the image you suggested made me think it was Optimus who was primarily taking care of the terrans, which!!!! Is fun!
#transformers#maccadam#not tagging everyone lmao#transformers earthspark#transformers bayverse#transformers prime#the bayverse terrans would have fun interactions with some of the bayverse humans too imo#the decepticon raised terrans would turn out interesting!!#they're going to get taught some VERY different values#very fun (for us) future interactions possible between the decepticons raised terrans and the autobots here
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Wow I actually can't think of a more unfortunate name. This guy won.
#SILLY-ANUS#and i thought Gaius Silius was unfortunate!#turns out monty python is a lot more historically accurate than we thought#listen yall if your name is gaius silius or something#poor you#but the worst thing you can do is get adopted#because then you might slap silianus on your name which is actually a lot lot worse#romans with unfortunate names#roman names#ancient rome
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yOu'Re gOiNg fOr a LiTeR? | "Habs react to Quebec Maple facts", 10.22.24
#guys this is not becoming a regular thing this is just the mental illinois breaking through but ALSO I SAW THIS AND SCREAMEDDDDD#they did this For Me. those are all my guys. like yes yes we know about xhekovskĂ˝ but thatâs my adopted austrian son david reinbacher!!!#thatâs my baby goalie carey price time travel cowboy son cayden primeau!!!! and i just LOVE that they were like#âyeah so one of them is gonna be a bitch in both pairs. & yeah weâre gonna make them lose.â & i am HERE for it. you know the media day vid#where they asked all of them who was brat on the team and like 75% said slaf which we all KNEW? yes. correct. even more evidence godddd#also empathize so much with him because i hate feeling stupid & he is notably like. a very smart guy w/good awareness of broader society#and sorry to get like this on a silly little post iâm about to fanfiction-ify before i have xhekovskĂ˝ hours but so much of this goes back#to the xenophobia in the nhl and how we treat players (not only that. people in north am/west tbh) whose first language is not english#and degrade/discredit them and their intelligence by virtue of their multilingualism and how we even think about multilingualism as a whole#e.g. the sense that certain languages are perceived as more âvaluableâ capital/the support that SHOULD be there for language learning simpl#is not from what i can tell in the nhl so even if you wanted to foster an environment of intercultural competency theyâre doing nothing to#support it. the stories!! of so many guys! reliant solely upon their teammates for basic necessities! WHERE is your language acquisition#programming. sorry the linguistics language and culture attempted to jump out there & i am not conveying what i want to say at ALL. anyway#juraj's slow descent into madness as u can SEE him visibly getting more & more over it & done is my roman empire. like he's having fun#at first he's laughing 'what is this whiskey?' & i AM thinking that toothy little grin at arber with the jerkoff hand motion about the mapl#syrup only taking a few minutes to come (out) was a dig. lord knows arber deserved it with his shorts pulled all the way up like GOD the me#you put here to wear slutty little 3" shorts live in cold CANADA and have to cover up their thigh tattoos. what a travesty. and the amount#of THIGH in this video i- biting. arber's hairy legs slaf's manspreading more as he gets frustrated & arber teases him i. and DAVID????#on a completely different note cayden with his face covered is giving me INTENSE brainworms i have the most unhinged storylines for him#AND THE BRYNDZOVE HALUSKYYYY everything past 2:00 is gold. david's tired sighs. slaf hating it here. arber having the time of his life#'taste' 'that's not an advantage' DAVID kill him. 'maple syrup specialist... normal guy đ¤ˇ' slaf you are the WORST loser and ily for it#arber defending his wife w/his life... juraj's the smartest guy in the room & arber's on his leash about it. it goes both ways (to be cont)#juraj slafkovskĂ˝#arber xhekaj#david reinbacher#cayden primeau#montreal canadiens#i'm xhekovskĂ˝ posting leave me alone i'm also *****
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I just spent like 20 minutes thinking about soup
#i need to move out!!!!#i love my parents to be clear they're great#i just want to be in charge of my own meals again#it's not that they're bad at feeding me stuff i want to eat it's just we like different things#when it's just me i can make my soup however i want and no one's gonna say anything#Because It's My Soup#i can eat japanese chicken curry for a week straight! no one cares!#i just need to get better at eating vegetables#i want my own kitchen soooo baaad.....#my mom's sensitive to garlic. do you know how much recipes fuck if you add garlic? severely. and i can't if she's gonna eat it#i need my own kitchen so bad so so bad pleeaase#really hoping that i get my degree within like two months#and then i have to. urgh. find a job. but then i find a job and i go there#and i get Paid! money!#and once i have some money in the bank and a long term job i can try and get a flat#and once i have a flat i have my own kitchen i can order stuff online if i want and i can adopt a cat#i can have friends over i can decorate#and if i can swing it i'll be a civil servant#and if i'm lucky enough i can perhaps. give up the next 30 years of my life to a bank so i can own my own flat#god i hope. i fucking hope. i really really want to own#like not for landlord bullshit. just so i don't have to worry about where to go in a year two years five years#i want a civil servant job because that's for life and i would love to do the same thing forever#and i want to own a flat because i could make the space fit my needs and wants perfectly#and i wouldn't have to worry about where to live or old age or whatever#good luck to me finding a well situated 2 bedroom flat in one of the if not the worst city of france in terms of housing :)#but hey i've been lucky in life. maybe it'll keep going#i know what i want early! that's good#i shouldn't have a realisation that i want kids at 30yo or whatever. I Shall Not Become My Mom#ANYWAY i need my own kitchen!!!!!#wow i have a ramble tag now
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there is no such thing as a âlow maintenance petâ, only different maintenance.
dogs, cats, fish, reptiles, birds, small mammals, et cetera all have different needs, and your individual lifestyle may be better suited to meeting the needs of one more than another. you may be able to properly care for a cat but not a fish, or a fish but not a rabbit, or a rabbit but not a bird, and so on, but that doesnât make any pet âeasierâ to care for than another. it doesnât make any pet need less care and attention than another.
promoting any pet as âlow maintenanceâ leads to neglect at best and abuse at worst.
#fish and cats and probably the worst when it comes to this but in two different ways#fish because people have the idea of a fishbowl or one of those teeny tiny tanks and think that's fine#and combined with how easy and cheap it is to get a fish compared to a cat or a dog leads to people just getting them#without knowing how to properly care for them#*in general* getting a cat/dog is a pretty lengthy process whether youre adopting or buying from a breeder#and typically involves some kind of application and a vetting by the rescue/breeder#but literally anyone can walk into the pet store and buy a fish#and they don't know about getting a filter or a heater and thermometer or even the right tank size for their fish#and they certainly don't know that you need the entire tank set up WELL before getting the fish to properly cycle the tank#and then with cats it comes down to the whole outdoor cat thing and the misconception of cats as 'independent'#and less informed people think 'oh well i can just leave the cat outside all day and all i really have to do is feed it'#and so (1) they leave the cat outside all day (neglect/abuse full stop) and (2) don't own cat toys / cat furniture et cetera#anyway in a perfect world i don't think places like petco or petsmart should be allowed to sell the animals themselves#in a perfect world they wouldn't be allowed to sell fishbowls or those teeny tiny tanks or those tube things for like hamsters and them#but we don't live in a perfect world so :-/#i speak#animal welfare
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Iâm not sure if the seasonal depression is hitting especially hard this year or if Iâm just grieving for Mabel or if Iâm finally going irreparably insane or if life/people is being unfair towards me or all of the above
#i cry super hard every day now. sometimes multiple times a day#sometimes something sets it off specifically (like arguing with my mom earlier)#but sometimes i just think about mabel too much and start sobbing#i thought i was okay. i mean i knew i wasnât okay but i knew time would do its thing#the first few weeks were the worst but earlier this month i felt like iâd kind of plateauâd#like i was still sad but i could look at photos and videos and talk about her without crying. i was even laughing#now⌠now i canât even think of her. again#it just feels so fucking unfair that iâll NEVER see her again. like what the fuck do you mean. what do you MEAN#what do you mean i have to live out my whole life⌠god knows how fucking long iâll live; and N E V E R see her again. shut the fuck up.#thatâs so fucking unfair. and everyone else is okay. iâm like how can you POSSIBLY just go about your life#the best dog in the world is dead and sheâs going to stay dead and i wonât see her again for however many fucking stupid cursed decades#i live and i might not even see her when i die. how the HELL am i supposed to be okay with that. is that a joke#and thereâs a part of me thatâs like âmaybe i could adopt another dogâ but i donât know#i think iâd feel better and worse at the same time. i wouldnât feel so alone but they wouldnât be mabel#i put in an application for a terrier thatâs at a local rescue but if i donât get him iâm not trying again. iâll take it as a hint#cats arenât an option btw i found out iâm allergic. which was brand new information.. iâve been around cats that didnât set my allergies#off at all. but i guess thereâs a difference between spending an hour at your friendâs house who has one cat#and living 24/7 with a cat that gets fur and dander and saliva everywhere#and i donât think other pets would suit me. i just donât feel comfortable caring for any animal i havenât done research on#i had hamsters when i was a teenager but⌠tbh never again. they are so much fun but i have anxiety dreams about them now#so itâs dogs (well.. one dog) or nothing#i do have plans to speak to my doctor about my depression btw because i genuinely find this unsustainable#like i do think itâs situational (seasonal/grief/everyone around me seeming to want to argue with me lately) but i still need#mood stabilisers while iâm in this situation lol#personal
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Every day I must act normal despite knowing how the contrast between Memphisâs and Sanaâs views of authority all traces back to how they see the same quasi-omniscient system exploited and by whom.
#𪪠Memphis Mylera#𪪠Sana Staravya#â second imperial civil war#===========================================#context because I have been a very poor loreposter:#M & S were raised in the same cadet center (a state orphanage that rears children to be military officers and/or sewage administrators)#(the imperial definition of âmilitaryâ is /weird/)#itâs not terrible quality-of-life-wise but it comes with there literally being eyes in the walls at all times#theyâre not always actively watching you but if you do something wrong you can bet your tail theyâll find out#discipline is handled by an impersonal system that visibly runs on paperwork#cadets are raised reciting âproverbsâ that are things like advice on how to lead and counsels on the value of loyalty#this all ingrains it into them that the government/military is omniscient and omnipotent#and Sana escapes this and gets adopted by rebels#(and more importantly by flagrantly-lawbreaking rich people who forge her an identity without a second thought)#Memphis canât and has basically the worst possible career where she falls through every crack and is chewed up by every gear in the machine#the only person she sees break the system is literally its god -- Presiding Imperator Cassius Banneker#(I swear to God that at the end of the day heâs a good person but man does he do some bad things)#their views come out almost polar opposites and /boy/ does it explode when they finally get to talk about them#----------------------------------------------------------------------#I wrote ten pages of analysis on this a few months back so I wonât spoil the rest#𪪠Cassius Banneker#(tangentially)#arguably I should also cite the Keplers but I don't explicitly namedrop them#nor do I describe them very well#Iâll have to do a post properly explaining their weird social class (that I just dismissed as ârich peopleâ here)#it has no easy earth analogy (yet; I think an approximation may develop) so that may take a while
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Itâs always âevil Superman!!!!â this, or âvillain justice league!!!â that.
I want an AU of villain! Bruce whoâs absolutely dog-shit at being evil.
Firstly: The worst thing he can think of doing is not donating to animal shelters or charities . immediately feels so guilty he throws up.
Secondly: The second a child cries because of him, heâd freeze up. Stand like a statue, unmoving and petrified. No more evil, but just today.
He ends up helping the city by accident more often than not, and to his immortal disappointment, Gotham loves both the Bat and Bruce Wayne.
âalfred come look at my evil planâ
âYes, sir, â Alfred is very indulgent. He does his best to pretend itâs actually good. â âDonât say please to the baristaâ. Getting bold, are we?â
EVERYTIME He and Clark meet and Bruce monologues about pulverizing him to dust, Clark (and the League) looks at him like this:
âI can make him worse,â GOOD FOR YOU!!! Clark can make him into his malewife and adopt his 7 evil sidekicks who actually know how to villain. Especially the little one.
#in my head Bruce needs a little sidekick Jason who calls him BOSSS in his high pitched voice#bruce wayne#clark kent#villain! batman au#batman#dc#dc comics#superbat#text
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I originally said it as a joke, but I really think Ford's going to end up being the Stan to Bill and Mina's Dipper and Mabel by the end of the fic. I know me, I feel it in my bones. It's inevitable and we're all just going to have to deal with it.
#Hayley Writes Triangulum#Obviously it'll be different because of the whole history with Ford and Bill#But also where's that post that's like 'Just adopt your worst enemy; what're they gonna do? You can just ground them now'#Or whatever it said#Anyway never say things as a joke <3#But also whatever happens in the end will honestly and truly be up to Ford above all else#Even if I don't have the ending completely planned out; it will be his decision that gets everyone where they end up by the end of the fic#Take that as you will
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The US Copyright Office frees the McFlurry
I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.
I have spent a quarter century obsessed with the weirdest corner of the weirdest section of the worst internet law on the US statute books: Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, the 1998 law that makes it a felony to help someone change how their own computer works so it serves them, rather than a distant corporation.
Under DMCA 1201, giving someone a tool to "bypass an access control for a copyrighted work" is a felony punishable by a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine â for a first offense. This law can refer to access controls for traditional copyrighted works, like movies. Under DMCA 1201, if you help someone with photosensitive epilepsy add a plug-in to the Netflix player in their browser that blocks strobing pictures that can trigger seizures, you're a felon:
https://lists.w3.org/Archives/Public/public-html-media/2017Jul/0005.html
But software is a copyrighted work, and everything from printer cartridges to car-engine parts have software in them. If the manufacturer puts an "access control" on that software, they can send their customers (and competitors) to prison for passing around tools to help them fix their cars or use third-party ink.
Now, even though the DMCA is a copyright law (that's what the "C" in DMCA stands for, after all); and even though blocking video strobes, using third party ink, and fixing your car are not copyright violations, the DMCA can still send you to prison, for a long-ass time for doing these things, provided the manufacturer designs their product so that using it the way that suits you best involves getting around an "access control."
As you might expect, this is quite a tempting proposition for any manufacturer hoping to enshittify their products, because they know you can't legally disenshittify them. These access controls have metastasized into every kind of device imaginable.
Garage-door openers:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain
Refrigerators:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/12/digital-feudalism/#filtergate
Dishwashers:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/03/cassette-rewinder/#disher-bob
Treadmills:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/22/vapescreen/#jane-get-me-off-this-crazy-thing
Tractors:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#deere-john
Cars:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world
Printers:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty
And even printer paper:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#dymo-550
DMCA 1201 is the brainchild of Bruce Lehmann, Bill Clinton's Copyright Czar, who was repeatedly warned that cancerous proliferation this was the foreseeable, inevitable outcome of his pet policy. As a sop to his critics, Lehman added a largely ornamental safety valve to his law, ordering the US Copyright Office to invite submissions every three years petitioning for "use exemptions" to the blanket ban on circumventing access-controls.
I call this "ornamental" because if the Copyright Office thinks that, say, it should be legal for you to bypass an access control to use third-party ink in your printer, or a third-party app store in your phone, all they can do under DMCA 1201 is grant you the right to use a circumvention tool. But they can't give you the right to acquire that tool.
I know that sounds confusing, but that's only because it's very, very stupid. How stupid? Well, in 2001, the US Trade Representative arm-twisted the EU into adopting its own version of this law (Article 6 of the EUCD), and in 2003, Norway added the law to its lawbooks. On the eve of that addition, I traveled to Oslo to debate the minister involved:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/28/clintons-ghost/#felony-contempt-of-business-model
The minister praised his law, explaining that it gave blind people the right to bypass access controls on ebooks so that they could feed them to screen readers, Braille printers, and other assistive tools. OK, I said, but how do they get the software that jailbreaks their ebooks so they can make use of this exemption? Am I allowed to give them that tool?
No, the minister said, you're not allowed to do that, that would be a crime.
Is the Norwegian government allowed to give them that tool? No. How about a blind rights advocacy group? No, not them either. A university computer science department? Nope. A commercial vendor? Certainly not.
No, the minister explained, under his law, a blind person would be expected to personally reverse engineer a program like Adobe E-Reader, in hopes of discovering a defect that they could exploit by writing a program to extract the ebook text.
Oh, I said. But if a blind person did manage to do this, could they supply that tool to other blind people?
Well, no, the minister said. Each and every blind person must personally â without any help from anyone else â figure out how to reverse-engineer the ebook program, and then individually author their own alternative reader program that worked with the text of their ebooks.
That is what is meant by a use exemption without a tools exemption. It's useless. A sick joke, even.
The US Copyright Office has been valiantly holding exemptions proceedings every three years since the start of this century, and they've granted many sensible exemptions, including ones to benefit people with disabilities, or to let you jailbreak your phone, or let media professors extract video clips from DVDs, and so on. Tens of thousands of person-hours have been flushed into this pointless exercise, generating a long list of things you are now technically allowed to do, but only if you are a reverse-engineering specialist type of computer programmer who can manage the process from beginning to end in total isolation and secrecy.
But there is one kind of use exception the Copyright Office can grant that is potentially game-changing: an exemption for decoding diagnostic codes.
You see, DMCA 1201 has been a critical weapon for the corporate anti-repair movement. By scrambling error codes in cars, tractors, appliances, insulin pumps, phones and other devices, manufacturers can wage war on independent repair, depriving third-party technicians of the diagnostic information they need to figure out how to fix your stuff and keep it going.
This is bad enough in normal times, but during the acute phase of the covid pandemic, hospitals found themselves unable to maintain their ventilators because of access controls. Nearly all ventilators come from a single med-tech monopolist, Medtronic, which charges hospitals hundreds of dollars to dispatch their own repair technicians to fix its products. But when covid ended nearly all travel, Medtronic could no longer provide on-site calls. Thankfully, an anonymous hacker started building homemade (illegal) circumvention devices to let hospital technicians fix the ventilators themselves, improvising housings for them from old clock radios, guitar pedals and whatever else was to hand, then mailing them anonymously to hospitals:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#medtronic-again
Once a manufacturer monopolizes repair in this way, they can force you to use their official service depots, charging you as much as they'd like; requiring you to use their official, expensive replacement parts; and dictating when your gadget is "too broken to fix," forcing you to buy a new one. That's bad enough when we're talking about refusing to fix a phone so you buy a new one â but imagine having a spinal injury and relying on a $100,000 exoskeleton to get from place to place and prevent muscle wasting, clots, and other immobility-related conditions, only to have the manufacturer decide that the gadget is too old to fix and refusing to give you the technical assistance to replace a watch battery so that you can get around again:
https://www.theverge.com/2024/9/26/24255074/former-jockey-michael-straight-exoskeleton-repair-battery
When the US Copyright Office grants a use exemption for extracting diagnostic codes from a busted device, they empower repair advocates to put that gadget up on a workbench and torture it into giving up those codes. The codes can then be integrated into an unofficial diagnostic tool, one that can make sense of the scrambled, obfuscated error codes that a device sends when it breaks â without having to unscramble them. In other words, only the company that makes the diagnostic tool has to bypass an access control, but the people who use that tool later do not violate DMCA 1201.
This is all relevant this month because the US Copyright Office just released the latest batch of 1201 exemptions, and among them is the right to circumvent access controls "allowing for repair of retail-level food preparation equipment":
https://publicknowledge.org/public-knowledge-ifixit-free-the-mcflurry-win-copyright-office-dmca-exemption-for-ice-cream-machines/
While this covers all kinds of food prep gear, the exemption request â filed by Public Knowledge and Ifixit â was inspired by the bizarre war over the tragically fragile McFlurry machine. These machines â which extrude soft-serve frozen desserts â are notoriously failure-prone, with 5-16% of them broken at any given time. Taylor, the giant kitchen tech company that makes the machines, charges franchisees a fortune to repair them, producing a steady stream of profits for the company.
This sleazy business prompted some ice-cream hackers to found a startup called Kytch, a high-powered automation and diagnostic tool that was hugely popular with McDonald's franchisees (the gadget was partially designed by the legendary hardware hacker Andrew "bunnie" Huang!).
In response, Taylor played dirty, making a less-capable clone of the Kytch, trying to buy Kytch out, and teaming up with McDonald's corporate to bombard franchisees with legal scare-stories about the dangers of using a Kytch to keep their soft-serve flowing, thanks to DMCA 1201:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cold-war
Kytch isn't the only beneficiary of the new exemption: all kinds of industrial kitchen equipment is covered. In upholding the Right to Repair, the Copyright Office overruled objections of some of its closest historical allies, the Entertainment Software Association, Motion Picture Association, and Recording Industry Association of America, who all sided with Taylor and McDonald's and opposed the exemption:
https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/10/us-copyright-office-frees-the-mcflurry-allowing-repair-of-ice-cream-machines/
This is literally the only useful kind of DMCA 1201 exemption the Copyright Office can grant, and the fact that they granted it (along with a similar exemption for medical devices) is a welcome bright spot. But make no mistake, the fact that we finally found a narrow way in which DMCA 1201 can be made slightly less stupid does not redeem this outrageous law. It should still be repealed and condemned to the scrapheap of history.
Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard
Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
#pluralistic#dmca 1201#dmca#digital millennium copyright act#anticircumvention#triennial hearings#mcflurry#right to repair#r2r#mcbroken#automotive#mass question 1#us copyright office#copyright office#copyright#paracopyright#copyfight#kytch#diagnostic codes#public knowledge
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hotch's sister x spencer where hotch notices she's wearing spencer's clothes?
âYou and Spencer get one another in trouble with your older brother. fem!reader, 1k
Your brother, though youâre adopted, has passed down onto you many things. Mostly his frown, but more embarrassingly his high-pitched giggle when something is startlingly funny.Â
You laugh like a hyena at something Spencerâs said. He tries to grab you before you walk straight into his desk corner, but heâs too slow. You whack your hip and laugh again, this time in pain, bending over to grab at your wound in defeat.Â
âOh my god,â he says, trying not to laugh loudly, his efforts turning his own laugh into a giggle like yours as he bends down to see you, âare you okay?â He laughs so much he can barely ask. âAre you okay?âÂ
âIâm fine,â you squeeze between a laugh, letting him pull you into a standing position.Â
âWhat is it?â he asks, grabbing your hip, which worsens your laughter all over again. âWhat?âÂ
âYouâre super handsy, Dr. Reid.âÂ
A sharp clearing of the throat echoes. You tense up, begging Spencer mentally not to give you away, but his hand practically flies back into his chest like youâve burned him.Â
You turn to the office. âHi, Aaron.âÂ
Aaron Hotchner stands at the balcony overlooking the bullpen where you and Spencer stand. âHoney. Just give me two minutes and Iâll come down, okay?âÂ
You give a big smile. âYes, sir.âÂ
His eyes move to Spencer. You watch Aaron decide to leave it alone and canât help laughing for the hundredth time today as your brother turns around to head back into his office.
âHeâs ridiculous.âÂ
âHeâs gonna fire me,â Spencer says, though he doesnât sound serious.Â
âAnd then you can come work with me.âÂ
Spencer doesnât want to work at your new job, that much is clear from his expression, but he has enough social wits to realise youâre flirting. âThat wouldnât be the worst thing in the world,â he says.
Spencer leans back against his desk, hair curled just under his ears, his hand reaching for you though he doesnât touch. You sit down in his seat, the backs of your thighs sticking to warm leather. You arenât working today, hence your social visit, and Spencer had distracted you on the way to Aaronâs office (through no fault of his own, youâd just wanted to see him again) with a shy wave. Like you hadnât spent yesterday night together walking through fountains.Â
You didnât mean to fall in. Spencer helped you up onto the round basin of the fountain and youâd held hands, walking in circles so heâd have an excuse to keep rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Seconds turned to minutes, the conversation unhurried, and one wrong move had you slipping. You fell calf deep into cold water, but his laughter had been worth it.Â
âWhat are you thinking about?â he asks.Â
You cross one leg over the other, your jean leg riding up your shin. âIâm thinking about what Aaronâs gonna buy me for lunch.âÂ
âWhat do you want?â
âI have no idea. Itâs so hot out I barely wanna eat.âÂ
âWell, too bad, you have to.â He picks up a file from his outgoings and fans it at you nicely. When he talks again, his voice is lowered. âI was thinking, if youâre not busy, they have a movie playing in a couple of days at the independent, I think itâs in Portuguese, and I really think youâd like it.âÂ
âYeah?â you ask, lavishing in the cold kiss of his manufactured breeze and the idea of another date.Â
âAbout a little girl that turns into a star. They have popcorn bigger than anywhere else Iâve seen, too. Enough for three people in one bucket.âÂ
You try not to act too shy. âWell, hopefully itâs just me and you.âÂ
Spencer smiles at you between waves of his fan. âIs your hip okay?â he asks.Â
âSpencer.âÂ
âAre you ready?â Aaron asks.Â
You spin in Spencerâs chair toward your brother, shocked heâs there. Heâs been funny since you and Spencer met, never controlling or cruel, yet clearly having a tough time coming to grips with the connection youâve formed with his smartest employee.Â
When you told him Spencer had given you his number, his eye twitched ever so slightly, and he excused himself for a glass of water. Youâre not sure what is about the situation that irks him: he loves you, he loves Spencer in his way, heâd do anything for both of you, except acknowledge your burgeoning relationship.Â
You nod but donât stand. Your hip aches weirdly and the sitting is nice. Plus, itâs a sisterly duty to wind up her brother, even if you love him more than anybody on planet earth.Â
âSpencer was just telling me about your accident in Scottsdale.âÂ
âHe was,â Hotch says. He looks at you, and his eyes follow down the line of your leg to your shoes, where they stay.Â
You glance down.Â
âIâm trying something new,â you say, sitting up quickly. Scottsdale doesnât seem so funny.Â
âI can see that.âÂ
Youâre wearing Spencerâs socks, odd ones sticking up past his borrowed converse. âItâs summer,â you say, standing up.Â
âMm.â He gestures for you to stand in front of him, his hand on your shoulder kind but firm as he steers you away. âAnd the odd socks, thatâs a conscious choice?âÂ
âDonât be mean.âÂ
âIâm not.âÂ
You glance back at Spencer and grin at him as youâre shepherded away. Hopefully heâll call you later, but for now he looks like heâd like to dig himself a shallow grave.
âWe went for a walk last night and I ruined my shoes,â you explain, turning your gaze to Aaron and his reluctant smile. âThey were still wet this morning.âÂ
âWhat about those loafers I got you for your birthday?â he asks.Â
âWell, I didnât have them with me.âÂ
Aaron nods. Thereâs a certain impassiveness to his expression that youâre familiar with, even if it signifies disappointment. That youâre not so used to.Â
âI thought you liked Spencer?â you ask.Â
âI do. But I love you, and heâsâŚâÂ
âHeâs what?âÂ
âAt risk.âÂ
âYouâll just have to keep him safe for me,â you say, smiling at him breezily.Â
Aaron seems to agree silently. Youâre almost to the elevators when he says, âPlease, wear your own socks. I know you know how to do your laundry, Iâm the one who taught you how to do it.âÂ
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Thought more on the 'Batfam in Danny's world' stuff.
Red Robin: What is this? -holds up a clunky early 2000s device he found in Danny's room between his pinched fingers, like it might bite him- Danny: Oh, my PDA? Tucker insisted on buying it for me but honestly I'm not really that great with tech so I don't use it much. He usually follows me around trying to manage my schedule with it. Red Robin: Concerning but, more concerning, this thing... Works? Danny: It's the latest model, so it should? Red Robin: Latest... -trying not to cringe- How do you connect to the internet on it? Or take pictures? Danny, with genuine excitement: Your PDA can do that!? Man, that sounds way cooler than the plastic that lets you see all the stuff inside! Red Robin: I'm In Hell.
Spoiler: Having villains for parents is the worst right? Danny: I mean, my mom accidentally brings the food to life and it tries to bite us. But the keyword is 'accidentally'. They're mostly harmless. Spoiler: They literally just shot at you??? Danny: They shot at Phantom. They don't know it's actually me you know? Also I don't even worry about it. They don't have very good aim since I'm not a danger to them and Dad only gets badass when mom is in danger. Mom's always a badass but it's good dodging practice. Besides, I'd be more worried about them dissecting me, what with the whole, I'm technically an entirely different species that they've been studying their whole life and don't think I'm sentient anymore. But y'know it's whatever. They're not actually all that bad and I know they love me deep down. Spoiler: I'm not sure whether to borrow Hood's guns and shoot you myself or kidnap you away from here and force Batman to adopt you. Danny: Wha-
Danny: Alright a few more adjustments aaaaand there! Signal: Oh wow! Thanks! It's nuce to be able to see again without getting black spots on my vision. There's so many ghosts around it can be hard to see. Danny, biting his lip trying not to laugh: No problem. Signa;: .... What? Danny: Nothing! You look great dude! Signal: ....... Danny: ....... Signal: What did you put on my face!? Danny: Sun glasses! Signal: -skids to a halt in front of mirror and sure enough they're sun glasses. But they're triangular and the hooks go aaaall the way up to hook around the bat-ear points and look completely ridiculous- Danny Why :( Danny: -trying to say 'sorry' through his giggles, but he's not really sorry-
Danny: Uuuuh Red Hood I can't see your face, but I'm kinda worried about how many guns you're loading right now. Red Hood: I just want your 15th birthday party to be safe, okay? Danny: I'll be fine? It'd be nice if the other ghosts gave me a day off sure, but fighting them seems safer. I don't really want my mom to bake a cake anyway. Knowing her it'd just come alive so if they forget this year it's fine. I'm just, those are real guns man. They're dangerous. Red Hood: They are. -cocks gun- For Them.
Robin: >:( Danny: It was a nice try. Robin: Do not patronize me Fenton! Danny: I don't know why or how, but that sounds even more insulting than when Dash does it... Robin: This is an indignity! Fighting immortals entities that cannot be harmed by blade is one thing- but I will not accept being spoken to like a child! Skulker will return and taste my fury! Danny: Hey calm down alright? Robin: Do not test my patience! Danny: I heard you like animals. Wanna meet my purple back gorilla friend? She's really nice and is easy to talk to. Robin: .... The gorilla... doesn't speak does she? Danny: Haha no of course not! I learned her language instead. Robin: ... You are a strange man. However I will accept your proposal for now and I insist you teach me every form of communication with her.
Orphan: :( Danny, who's always been able to understand Cass perfectly, much to the mystery of the batfam and her delight: Aw Cass, I love you guys too. It's been great having your family around- and really I'm flattered! But I can't be your new brother, I'm sorry, but we do live in different realities. Besides, I think I've had enough of people trying to adopt me. Orphan: ? Danny: Yeah my godfather is a total fruitloop. Always trying to kill my dad and marry my mom who hates his guts and get me to call him father instead. Like, he even tried to clone me and copy my brain into a new body right? Or that time he rigged the election to become mayor just to mess with me. And hiring actually competent ghost hunters so I'd quit (kinda wish I could quit actually but it's fine). His obsession with me can get out of hand sometimes you see. Orphan: >:( -cracks knuckles- Danny: What? No! I don't need protecting really! I can handle him just fine. Now that I'm thinking about it though, I dunno what he'd do with Jazz. He never seems to actually talk about her beyond that one time he tried to get her to attack me- huh? Orphan: -disappeared- Danny: ...... That probably won't come back to haunt me.
#dc x dp#batfamily#tim drake#stephanie brown#jason todd#damian wayne#cassandra cain#danny phantom#originally the 'i'm in hell' line belonged to jason#but this was funnier#rip vlad when cass gets her hands on him
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Trash Novel Chronicles: Villain System vs World - Riddle Rosehearts x reader
You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.
i had so much fun writing this, i hope you like it just as much!
1st part with Vil: here ; 3rd part with Lilia: here ; 4th part with Malleus: here ; 5th part with Azul: here ; 6th part with Leona: here ; 7th part with Idia: here ; 8th part with Jamil: here ; 9th part with Kalim: here
Youâve had a week. Not just any weekâa rough week. Work has been an absolute dumpster fire, deadlines have been chasing you like a pack of rabid wolves, and your responsibilities are piling up like a game of Jenga about to collapse. If someone were to ask how youâre doing, youâd just laugh maniacally and hope theyâd back away slowly.
So, when you finally make it home, the first thing you do is collapse face-first onto your couch with all the grace of a dead fish. After a moment of just lying there, contemplating whether adulthood is some kind of elaborate prank, you do the one thing that always makes you feel better: grab your phone and open up your webnovel app.
You scroll through your favoritesâah yes, the classics. Trashy, absurd, villainess webnovels that are objectively terrible but subjectively amazing. Youâre talking about the ones with titles like âIâm the Evil Dukeâs Twisted Ex-FiancĂŠe, But He Loves Me Now Because I Have Plot Armor!â or âMy Death Flags Mean Nothing Because I Can Charm My Way Out of Everything (And Also, Dragons)â.
Itâs like junk food for your brain. You know itâs not good for you. You know there are objectively better stories out there. But the drama, the ridiculous misunderstandings, the sheer stupidity of every character decisionâitâs beautiful. Itâs a hot mess, and you are the fly drawn to it.
Except this time, you somehow pick the worst one.
You donât know if itâs because your standards are already on the floor and this one somehow dug under it, or if the exhaustion has finally gotten to you, but itâs bad.
The story is all over the place. The villainess is cartoonishly cruel, like she wakes up in the morning and thinks, âWhat heinous thing can I do today?â But sometimes, you swear she doesnât even want to be that way. Itâs like the author just decided, âVillainess = bad,â and put their brain to bed.
The plot? Oh, itâs a mess. The villainess and heroine are sistersâthe real daughter of a Duke and the adopted, sweet angel who gets all the Dukeâs affection. Naturally, they both fall for the same guy: Riddle Rosehearts, some prodigy with a complex about rules, order, and justice. Of course, the Duke arranges for his precious adopted daughter to marry Riddle, and the villainess? She flips out, does a bunch of cruel things (of course), and eventually gets herself killed in a totally overdramatic fashion.
Okay, typical villainess plot so far. Nothing new there.
But the worst part? The treatment of poor Riddle. Itâs like heâs just a toy to be fought over. The sisters practically claim ownership of him like heâs a fancy handbag. Then, once the villainess is conveniently eliminated, the author gives Riddle this tragic backstory. Harsh childhood, crazy controlling momâyou know, the works. You brace yourself for the resolution, for him to rise above his traumaand find happiness.
Nope. His trauma is treated like a joke. Nothing gets resolved. Heâs just stuck in this gilded cage, with the heroine taking over as the new warden. And somehow, thatâs supposed to be the happy ending?
Itâs horrible. Itâs nonsensical. Itâs everything you could want right now.
You should stop. You know you should stop. But the sheer absurdity of it has you in its grasp.
And you don't even want to think about the love decagon. Yes, decagon. There are 9 men dying over this heroine who has the personality of rusty spoon.
You snort, your laughter echoing through your empty apartment. Itâs awful. Itâs brain-rotting, cringe-inducing garbage.
You love it.
The plot is hanging on by a thread, and yet, there you are, fully committed. You donât need quality writing, deep themes, or even consistent character motivations. What you need is to watch this trainwreck unfold until the bitter end, and youâll be damned if you donât see it through.
But thatâs when the universe decides to kick you in the teeth. In a sequence of events so absurd you couldnât make it up if you tried, youâoh, wait for itâdie. And not in some grand, noble fashion, either. You slip on some residual shampoo on your bathroom floor, and fall face first onto a tap. Ouch.
Really?
Out of all the dramatic, swoon-worthy ways to die, like saving a kitten from a burning building or sacrificing yourself for someone you loved, you went out like a fool. A shower slip. One minute youâre standing, and the next, youâre faceplanting like some poorly executed slapstick scene.
And then, boom. Everything went black.
Which brings you to now. You feel odd. The texture of the sheets beneath you isnât quite right. Theyâre silkier than the cheap cotton sheets you usually wrapped yourself in before bed. The air smells... different too. Not to mention, the bed feels way bigger, and youâre nestled in something way too plush to be your beat-up old mattress.
You bolt upright, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the room. You squint around and your eyes widen. This is⌠not your room. Gone are the band posters, the laundry in the corner, and your trusty alarm clock with the missing buttons. Instead, youâre surrounded by opulence: heavy velvet drapes, an intricately carved wooden dresser, and a huge vanity covered in jewels.
Your heart drops.
Slowly, you lift your hands. They are... not your hands. These are dainty, perfectly manicured hands. No chewed-off nails. No pen smudges from your hours of work. Just smooth, perfect fingers, topped off with the exact kind of expensive manicure you'd normally cringe at paying for.
No. Fucking. Way.
Frantically, you throw the blankets off yourself and scramble to the nearest mirror. What you see staring back at you isnât your own reflection.
âOh. My. God.â
Youâve been isekaiâd. Into a webnovel.
And not just any webnovel. No. The terrible one youâd been reading before your humiliating death. Youâre in the body of the villainess, the character who was basically a walking disaster from beginning to end. Not to mention, she was set to die a very messy, very public death within a few weeks.
âOh god. Iâm screwed.â You pace around the room in a panic, wringing your hands together. âHow am I supposed to survive this? I canât be a villainess! I donât even like drama!â
You glance around desperately for something, anything that will give you some semblance of control over the situation. This canât be happening. Maybe this is all a weird dream? You pinch yourself. Hard.
âOw.â Nope. Definitely not a dream. Just your reality. Fantastic.
Then, you spot it. A glowing screen, floating mid-air right next to your head.
The classic system menu, like the ones from every villainess isekai youâve read.
Except, instead of comforting you, this one makes you want to scream. Because in glaring red letters, it says:
âVillainess System Activated! Complete your tasks or face severe consequences.â
You blink. âConsequences?â
A new notification pops up, smug as hell. âSevere punishment will be dealt if you fail your villainous duties."
Oh, great. Youâre trapped in a parody of an isekai where you not only have to survive as the villainess, but also complete quests like some twisted game. Lovely.
You stare at the system menu. âThis is going to be fine,â you mutter, trying to convince yourself. âI just have to do the opposite of whatever got this chick killed. Just... stop being a jerk, right?â
But no sooner do you say that when the system blinks and pops up your first quest:
âSystem:Â Ruin Lady Heronâs Garden Party. Reward: 50 Villain Points.â
Are you kidding me?
You groan, rubbing your temples. âOkay, but hear me out,â you say to the system like itâs a person you can negotiate with. âWhat if I ruin it... with a compliment? Like, I tell her that her flower arrangements are so beautiful that she faints from the shock?â
The systemâs reply is immediate: âInvalid. Must complete task in line with villainess behavior.â
âOh, come on!â You pace the room again, muttering under your breath. âFine. You wanna play it like this? I can play.â You crack your knuckles. âWeâll see who outsmarts who.â
The next hour passes in a whirlwind of panicked planning. Youâve read enough villainess novels to know the basic rules: never do what youâre supposed to do, but always make it look like you are. Itâs malicious compliance at its finest.
So, when you arrive at Lady Heronâs garden party, dressed to kill (because apparently thatâs a thing villainesses do), youâve already concocted your plan.
The system wants you to ruin the event? Fine. But youâll do it your way. You compliment Lady Heronâs flowers with the fakest smile you can muster, pouring on the charm. You gush about her decorations until sheâs practically glowing, all while subtly steering the conversation away from the usual petty gossip that gets the villainess in trouble.
Instead of sabotaging the food, you pretend to be horrified when the catering staff makes a small mistake, swooping in to save the day and looking like a hero in the process. And as for the âaccidentalâ tripping of the hostâs dress that was supposed to happen? You deftly catch her instead, earning surprised gasps from the crowd.
By the end of it, the systemâs fuming, and youâre basking in the glory of having completed your âvillainous taskâ without actually being villainous.
Malicious compliance for the win, you think smugly.
The system didn't like your attitude and it wants it to be known.
"System: Next quest: Defeat the chicken in the garden."
No problem, right? It wasnât like you were going up against a raging dragon or anything. It was just a chicken. A harmless little chicken.
Wrong.
You found yourself standing in a dusty barn, staring down the most demonic creature youâd ever seenâa puffed-up, red-eyed chicken with an attitude problem. This thing wasnât just any chicken; it looked like it had gone ten rounds with a tiger and won. Twice.
âI canât believe Iâm doing this,â you muttered under your breath, rolling up your sleeves as the chicken fluffed its feathers like it was about to brawl. You eyed it warily. It eyed you back, and for a second, you swore you saw flames in its eyes.
"System: Quest update: âDefeat the Chicken of Doom!"
Chicken of Doom? You squinted at the thing. âYou couldâve warned me, you know.â
"System: Whereâs the fun in that?"
The chicken let out an ear-splitting squawk and lunged at you like a tiny, feathered fury. You dodged, barely, as it pecked the air where your face had been a moment earlier. This was no ordinary chicken. This thing had skills.
You scrambled out of the way, trying to think of a strategy that didnât involve you getting pecked into oblivion. âSystem! Any tips here?â
"System: Aim for the legs. Thatâs where the power is."
The legs? You glanced down at the chickenâs scrawny legs. âIâm pretty sure itâs coming for my face, not my ankles!â
"System: Well, you could always just run. But thatâs not very villainous, is it?"
âOh, you are the worst,â you grumbled as the chicken made another wild leap for your head. You ducked, grabbed a nearby rake, and swung it around like a makeshift sword. âAlright, chicken. Letâs dance.â
What followed was an embarrassing display of you flailing around the barn, trying to fend off this demonic poultry with a rake while the system laughed at you from the sidelines.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dodging and weaving, you managed to hook the rake around one of its legs, pulling it off balance. The chicken flopped onto its back, flailing wildly as it squawked in outrage. You quickly pinned it down with the back-end of the take, panting heavily.
"System: Congratulations! Quest complete. 50 Villain Points awarded."
You glared at the systemâs message. âI better get more than 100 points for this. I deserve a medal.â
"System: How about the satisfaction of knowing you just defeated the Chicken of Doom?"
You groaned, wiping sweat from your forehead. âNext time you send me on a quest, can it be against something less likely to murder me? Like a butterfly?â
"System: No promises. But look on the bright sideâyouâre officially undefeated in chicken combat. And you now are +50 Villain points richer"
âFantastic,â you deadpanned, finally letting the defeated chicken hobble away with its dignity intact. âJust what I always wanted to be known for.â
You walked out of that barn a little wiser, a little bruised, and a lot more wary of small farm animals. From that day forward, chickens were officially your sworn enemies.
Villain points: 100
You were still in denial that you were in that novel. But what's a better wakeup call than running into the main lead? The guy who the story revolves around, Riddle Rosehearts.
You had decided to take a stroll in the academy's gardens when a loud squeaking noise caught your attention.
Turning the corner, you stumbled upon a scene that confirmed your worst fears: Riddle Rosehearts, was hunched over a small enclosure, tending to a couple of prickly hedgehogs.
âWhat in the worldâŚ?â you muttered, leaning in closer. Riddle was meticulously checking their little habitats, his brow furrowed in concentration. You had to admit, he looked oddly cute.
As you watched, one of the hedgehogsâwho seemed to have more ambition than senseâdecided to attempt an escape. It made a daring leap right off the side of the table, and you could practically hear the collective gasp of the students around you. Time slowed as you saw the tiny creature plummet toward the ground.
No!
Without thinking, you launched yourself forward, arms outstretched, preparing to catch the little spiky ball of chaos. You almost made it, but instead of a graceful landing, you miscalculated and ended up face-first in a pile of fallen leaves, with a hedgehog landing right on your back.
Riddleâs eyes widened in shock. âWhat are you doing?!â
With the hedgehog squirming atop you, you tried to push yourself up. âJust⌠saving this little guy,â you said, glancing over your shoulder. The hedgehog seemed to be enjoying the view from its leafy throne, completely unfazed by the near disaster.
âAre you okay?â Riddle asked, half-concerned, half-amused as he stepped closer. You could see a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, which was both infuriating and endearing.
âYeah, just a minor case of heroism!â you replied, attempting to sound cool while still half-buried in leaves. âNo big deal. Just saving lives one hedgehog at a time.â
The students around you started whispering, some trying to hold back laughter. Riddle, however, seemed genuinely impressed, his cheeks turning a shade of red that almost matched his hair. âUh⌠thank you?â he said, fumbling for words. âThat was⌠very quick thinking.â
As you finally managed to roll over, the hedgehog took that moment to scuttle off your back, plopping down on the ground with a little thud. You turned to Riddle, brushing leaves off your shirt. âYeah, well, itâs what I do best. Hedgehog rescuer by day, unremarkable student by night.â
Riddle blinked, processing your words while his face continued to betray a mix of flustered admiration and confusion. âYou⌠you look quite cool doing that,â he said, almost to himself, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
You smirked, enjoying the moment. âCool? Well, thank you.â
Riddle opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly flustered. âRight⌠um, thank you again. I usually prefer to do everything by the book, but you⌠you have a knack for chaos.â
âJust trying to shake things up a bit!â you replied, grinning. âBesides, whatâs life without a little excitement?â
His face turned an even deeper shade of red, and for a moment, you thought he might actually explode. âExcitement is⌠not exactly my strong suit,â he admitted with a seriousness that almost made you laugh.
Just then, Cater called out, âHey, Riddle, are you blushing over there?â
Riddle straightened up, all business once more. âI am not blushing!â he snapped, though it only made the others laugh harder.
You couldnât help but chuckle yourself. âWell, if it makes you feel any better, itâs very becoming.â
At this point, he was trying desperately to regain his composure, his usual dignified self crumbling under the unexpected twist of fate. âRight, well⌠um, thanks for your help,â he stammered, trying to pivot back to his hedgehogs as if that would restore some order to his day.
âAnytime!â you replied cheerfully, already plotting your next move in this wild webnovel world. After all, you might just have to become the chaotic force that turns Riddleâs world upside down.
As you left him there, you couldnât help but thinkâyup, you were definitely in that webnovel. And you were not hating it.
"System: New quest: Sabotage the dinner. +100 points"
Oh this was a quest you were willing to do even if the system didn't ask you to. All you need to do was question your darling sister's yapping and you'll be set.
The dinner is going about as smoothly as youâd expect a social gathering could in this godforsaken story. Which is to say, not smooth at all.
Youâre sitting at a long, polished table that looks like itâs seen better daysâprobably because it's held together by the sheer willpower of outdated noble customs. Your dear sister, the illustrious heroine of the world, is seated at the opposite end of the table, positively glowing in her usual self-absorbed way, surrounded by a gaggle of male leads that have somehow become entangled in her web of charm. Including, of course, the third male lead, a guy whose name you donât even care to remember, but who keeps giving you condescending looks from across the table.
Your father, seated next to her, is smiling like heâs watching his favorite child perform in a school play. Every time the heroine opens her mouth, heâs doting on her with embarrassing enthusiasm, nodding along like sheâs spewing pearls of wisdom when, in reality, itâs more like dribbling out some very glittery, very ignorant garbage.
âOh, Father,â your sister begins, in that overly sweet, almost nauseating voice of hers. âDid you know that dandelions are actually a type of flower? Most people mistake them for weeds, but I just find them so fascinating.â
You internally groan. Seriously? Dandelions? Thatâs the big revelation sheâs bringing to the table tonight?
Your father beams at her, his eyes twinkling as if sheâs just solved world hunger. âMy dear, youâre so clever. Itâs amazing how much you know!â
Ace, seated next to you, nearly spits out his water. You glance at him and catch the barely-restrained laughter on his face, which only makes you want to snicker along with him.
You give him a look that says "brace yourself."
You lean forward slightly, your face the picture of politeness, and say with a small smile, âWell, technically, dandelions are considered invasive species in most gardens. I suppose calling them âfascinatingâ is one way of putting it.â
Your sister blinks at you, clearly confused by the subtle jab, while Treyâwhoâs seated beside Riddleâhides his smirk behind a delicate sip of wine. You catch a glint of amusement in Riddleâs eyes as well. Even he seems to be enjoying this trainwreck.
The heroine, though, refuses to let her utter lack of botanical knowledge slow her down. âOh, well, I was just trying to emphasize how misunderstood they are! Like, did you know dandelion tea is supposed to help with digestion?â
You canât help yourself. âIs that why youâve been so full of it lately?â
Thereâs a loud snort from Cater, who quickly covers it up with a cough, but not before giving you an encouraging grin. Deuceâs shoulders shake as he tries to hold back laughter, while Ace is full-on grinning at the chaos youâre creating. Trey is still playing it cool, but you know heâs on the verge of losing it too.
Your sister pouts at you, her lower lip trembling like sheâs about to burst into tears. Oh, here we go. The waterworks. But honestly, youâre not about to feel guilty for calling her out when she practically walked into it.
âYou always have to be so mean to me,â she whines, her voice wobbling dramatically. âI was just trying to have a nice conversation!â
Your father, predictably, jumps to her defense. âNow, now,â he says, giving you a stern look. âThereâs no need to be so harsh with your sister.â
Harsh? Oh, please. If this is what he considers harsh, he clearly hasnât spent much time around actual harsh people. Not that youâre about to say that aloud, of course.
âApologies, Father,â you say, trying to keep your tone as neutral as possible while still dripping with passive-aggression. âIâll be sure to keep my comments to myself next time.â You pause for a beat, and then add with a pointed look, âUnless, of course, theyâre about real flowers.â
Cater and Ace lose it, full-on laughing at this point, and Deuce isnât far behind. Even Trey is chuckling softly into his drink.
And thenâoh, wait, is that a smile on Riddleâs face?
It is.
Holy crap.
For the first time since this disaster of a dinner started, you see a genuine smile tugging at Riddle Roseheartsâ lips. Itâs small, but itâs there. And itâs directed at you.
Well, well, well, you think. Who knew Iâd get the tiniest bit of amusement out of the stoic redhead tonight?
Riddleâs mother, who has been sitting quietly at the head of the table this whole time, seems to notice as well. She raises an eyebrow at you, and while she doesnât say anything, the slight nod of approval she gives is as close to praise as youâre ever going to get from her.
Meanwhile, your sister has resorted to dabbing her eyes with a napkin, and the third male lead looks like heâs about ready to crawl under the table and disappear. Honestly, with the way his face is turning red, you wouldnât be surprised if he just bolted for the door.
As the heroine sniffles dramatically, trying to regain her composure, Riddleâs mother clears her throat. âPerhaps itâs time we moved on to the next course.â
You sit back in your chair, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Youâve always known how to work a room, but this? This was practically a performance art piece. A subtle roast of the dinner partyâs most insufferable members, all without breaking a sweat.
Trey gives you a subtle thumbs-up from across the table, Cater is still grinning like an idiot, and Ace is wiping tears from his eyes. Even Deuce looks like heâs enjoying himself more than usual.
And Riddle? Heâs still smiling.
All in all, youâd call this a successful dinner.
"System: +100 points"
Villain Points: 200
You reached a compromise with the system during a mind numbingly boring tea party. You were doing your best to sit there with a polite smile plastered on your face while your sister droned on about her latest dress, but all you could think about was the fact that there were probably better uses of your timeâlike, say, literally anything else. Maybe you could fake a sudden illness and make a run for it? Or trip over a conveniently placed teacup and disappear into the shrubbery?
And thatâs when you heard it.
"System: New QuestâMake it through this tea party without falling asleep. Reward: Not looking like a complete fool."
You almost snorted out loud, but quickly caught yourself. Great, the system is back at it again with these stellar rewards.
Gee, thanks, system. Truly motivating stuff.
"System: Oh, Iâm sorry. Did you want something better? How about I throw in 50Â Villain Points?"
Your eyes widened. Wait, 50 Villain Points just for not dozing off during this boring nonsense?
"System: Well, technically, you just have to stay awake. I never said you couldnât look bored out of your mind."
You grinned slightly, trying to hide your amusement behind your teacup. Youâre starting to grow on me, you know that?
"System: Likewise. I must say, I didnât expect someone like you to actually stick with me this long. Most people wouldâve either ignored me or gotten themselves killed by now. But you? Youâve got potential."
Aw, stop, youâre gonna make me blush.
"System: Iâm serious! Youâve got guts. You think outside the box. Youâre not afraid to bend the rules a little. And thatâs why Iâve got a proposition for you."
You leaned back in your chair, intrigued. Oh? Go on, Iâm listening.
"System: Hereâs the dealâIâll start giving you quests that arenât designed to get you killed or humiliated beyond repair. In exchange, you have to promise to actually follow through on them. And I donât mean half-heartedlyâI want 100% commitment. Deal?"
Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying youâve been giving me death traps this whole time?
System: Well⌠not death traps, per se. More like⌠character-building exercises.
I swear to God, system, if you ever make me fight a rabid chicken againâ
"System: That chicken was a necessary evil! Character development! But fine, fine. No more chickens. Only reasonable, non-lethal missions from now on. What do you say? Partners in villainy?"
You tapped your chin, pretending to mull it over. Hmmm⌠sounds tempting. But whatâs in it for me besides the joy of your sparkling company?
"System: Oh, you know, the usualâpower, influence, fame, and fortune. Plus, Iâll throw in some juicy blackmail material for when your sister inevitably gets on your nerves again."
Your grin widened. Now that is the kind of offer I canât refuse.
"System: Thatâs the spirit! Now, first mission as my official partner: Sabotage your sisterâs next grand entrance. Nothing too catastrophicâjust a little stumble, maybe some ruffled feathers. Keep it classy."
And just like that, you and the system were officially besties. It was weirdly comforting knowing you had a sarcastic AI watching your backâand occasionally messing with your enemies. Sure, it mightâve been the weirdest friendship ever forged in the history of villainy, but hey, youâd take it. Youâd never be bored again with this delightful chaos agent in your corner.
As you left the tea party with your head held high, the system chimed in one last time.
"System: By the way, next time your sister brags about her shoes? âAccidentallyâ mention that those went out of fashion last season."
You smirked. Oh, system, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
+50 points, + 1 extremely powerful ally.
Villain points: 250
It was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon. You had gone into the library looking for a quiet place to relax after a long day of trying to stay out of family drama. But of course, there was Riddle, hunched over a mountain of books with his hands gripping his hair like it had personally wronged him. Not to mention, your sister was sitting nearby, yammering on about⌠something. Something that was definitely not helping Riddleâs clear state of panic.
As soon as you walked in, your eyes locked with his, and in that instant, you could practically hear his brain screaming for help. It was a silent plea, one you couldnât ignore.
With a sigh and a bit of a smirk, you sauntered over, interrupting your sisterâs endless tirade about her latest frivolous pursuit. âOh, there you are! Iâve been looking everywhere for you,â you said brightly, grabbing Riddle by the arm and pulling him up from his chair before he could protest.
Your sister blinked at you, clearly thrown off by your sudden intrusion. âExcuse me, we were in the middle of an important conversationââ
âWere you though?â You raised an eyebrow. âIâm pretty sure Riddle needs a break. Heâs been studying for hours, right?â You didnât wait for an answer, instead giving Riddle a quick nudge. âCome on, letâs get some fresh air.â
To your relief (and amusement), Riddle offered no resistance, letting you whisk him away from the library and your sisterâs insufferable voice.
Once you were safely in one of the quieter gardens, Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. âI donât know how much more of that I couldâve handled. Thank you.â
âNo problem. Honestly, I did it for my own sanity too,â you chuckled, leading him to a bench under a shady tree. âBut seriously, you look like you havenât slept in days.â
Riddleâs face flushed a bit as he glanced away. âIâve been⌠focused. Thereâs a lot to cover.â
âYeah, I can see that,â you replied dryly, nudging him to sit down. âBut if you donât rest, youâre going to burn out. Even someone like you canât run on fumes forever.â
He hesitated for a moment but eventually sat down, clearly too tired to argue. âI suppose youâre rightâŚâ
Riddle leaned back against the bench, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. You thought heâd sit there for a few minutes, maybe catch his breath, and thatâd be it.
Except he didnât just catch his breath.
Nope.
Instead, Riddle Rosehearts, the pristine, perfectly poised model student⌠fell asleep on your shoulder.
And you? You froze.
Oh no.
Oh God.
What do I do?!
Your mind spiraled as you sat there, staring at the top of his bright red head resting comfortably against you. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against your side, his quiet, steady breathing, the softness of his hairâ
Wait. Why is his hair so soft? Itâs like spun silk.
Does he use some kind of magic conditioner? Should I ask him for hair care tips?
No, focus! Focus!
You peeked down at him again, and he looked so peaceful, his usual stern expression completely relaxed. You could feel your heart racing, and the logical part of your brain screamed at you to keep it together, but the other halfâthe half that was currently hyper-aware of Riddleâs head resting on your shoulderâwas completely losing it.
Is this what bliss feels like? Is this how people write poems? âOh Riddle, how thou art like the setting sun, warm and brilliant yetâWAIT, what am I thinking?! I am losing my mind! THIS IS BAD!
But also⌠very, very good?
You glanced around nervously, wondering if someone might see this. Would this look weird to people? Am I weird for not moving? I canât move. Heâs asleep. If I move, heâll wake up and think Iâm a weirdo for staying so still and letting him nap on me like this. Oh God, what if he thinks Iâm weird?!
But even as your brain launched into a full-blown existential crisis, you couldnât deny how nice this felt. Riddle looked so softâso vulnerableâand for once, he wasnât burdened by the weight of expectations or responsibilities. He was just⌠Riddle. And that made something inside you feel oddly tender.
Your gaze softened as you looked at him. Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe I could get used to this. Maybeâ
Then, without warning, Riddle stirred, shifting slightly before blinking his eyes open. He looked groggy for a second, but as soon as he realized where he wasâwhere you wereâhis entire face turned scarlet.
âAh!â he gasped, jerking upright. âIâ! I didnât mean toâ! Iâ!â
You blinked at him, trying very hard to pretend that you hadnât just gone through a whole mental rollercoaster while he was napping. âUh⌠itâs fine. You were tired. Happens to the best of us.â
He quickly straightened his uniform, flustered beyond belief. âThat was⌠highly inappropriate. I apologize. You must think Iâm terribly uncouth.â
âNah,â you said with a grin, waving him off. âYouâre a hard worker. Even someone like you deserves a break.â
Riddle looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. âStill, I shouldnât haveâ"
You laughed and patted his shoulder. âRelax. It was kinda cute, honestly.â
He looked at you with wide eyes, his blush deepening. âC-cute?â
Realizing what you just said, your face turned bright red. âUh, yeah, like⌠in a respectable, admirable way, obviously! Because, you know, falling asleep is⌠healthy⌠and stuff.â
From behind you, you heard Aceâs familiar snicker, and you turned to see him and Deuce standing there, both of them with identical grins.
âYouâre totally simping,â Ace teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. âOh my God, go away.â
Riddle coughed, straightening his back and trying very hard to regain his composure. âAhem. I think Iâll⌠return to my studies. Thank you again for helping me earlier.â
He stood up, still looking mildly mortified, but as he walked away, you caught the faintest smile on his lips.
Ace elbowed you with a grin. âYouâve got it bad.â
âShut up,â you grumbled, your face still burning as you watched Riddle leave.
But deep down, you couldnât stop smiling either.
You sit at the breakfast table, staring at the notification hovering just above your coffee.
"System: New Quest: Get your sister to humiliate herself in front of the Empress. Reward: 100 Villain Points."
Your sister, ever the radiant queen of smugness, lounges at the other end, flipping her hair like sheâs about to step onto a runway. Her latest self-important monologue about being 'practically irreplaceable' in the Empressâs inner circle grates at your nerves.
âWhatâs with the face?â Ace flops into the seat next to you, raising an eyebrow at your sudden, murderous glare.
Deuce, ever the responsible one, follows, setting down his tray with a clink. âYou alright? Youâve been quiet.â
You groan, rubbing your temples. âI got stuck with⌠a task.â
Ace snickers. âWhat, the worldâs worst chore or something?â
You glance at your sister, now preening at her reflection in a spoon, and mutter, âWorse. I need to make her humiliate herself in front of the Empress.â
Both Ace and Deuce freeze, staring at you in disbelief.
Ace nearly snorts his drink. âYouâwait, what? You have to do that?â His eyes practically light up. âThatâs hilarious.â
Deuce, always the voice of reason, frowns. âWhy do you need to do that? That sounds kinda⌠extreme.â
You sigh, trying to keep it vague. âLetâs just say... itâs a long story. But trust me, itâll be worth it.â
Ace leans back, grinning like heâs just been given front-row tickets to the chaos. âOh, I am so in. We have to take down the drama queen? Say no more.â
Deuce hesitates, but after a glance at your sisterâwhoâs loudly bragging about her upcoming meeting with the Empressâhe sighs. âI guess if itâs for a good cause... she could use a little humility.â
âPerfect.â You clap your hands together, a plan already forming. âBut it has to look natural. No obvious sabotage.â
Ace smirks. âYou say that like Iâm not an expert in âsubtle.ââ
The banquet is set in a lavish garden, with your sister already dressed in the most elaborate gown she could find. She looks like sheâs ready to steal the spotlightâand she fully intends to. But youâre three steps ahead. As you, Ace, and Deuce trail behind her, you start whispering the plan. âShe always does that thing where she stands up to give a toast in front of everyone, right?â
Deuce nods. âYeah, she loves being the center of attention.â
You glance at Ace. âThink you can handle making sure her âcenter of attentionâ moment doesnât go as planned?â
Ace grins wickedly. âLeave it to me.â
Your sister, in all her glittering glory, steps up to the platform. The Empress and her courtiers watch on, curious, while your sister clears her throat, preparing to launch into one of her legendary speeches.
Ace winks at you, positioning himself near the platformâs support. With the lightest nudge, it shifts, just enough to unbalance your sister. As she stands, her heel catches on the uneven surface.
Her eyes widen. âWhaâ?â
And down she goes, arms flailing dramatically as she tumbles straight into a nearby fountain.
Thereâs a collective gasp from the crowd, and the Empress looks mildly surprised as water splashes everywhere. Your sister, soaked and sputtering, looks utterly mortified.
Ace bites his lip to keep from laughing. âOops.â
Deuce winces but nods. âWell... that worked.â
You canât help the satisfied smirk tugging at your lips as your system pings again.
"System: Quest Complete. Reward: 100 Villain Points."
âPerfect,â you murmur under your breath, already thinking about the next quest.
As your sister sputters her way out of the fountain, dripping wet and desperately trying to regain her composure, the crowd falls into an awkward silence. You can practically hear her brain scrambling to salvage the moment.
She forces a bright smile, pushing wet hair out of her face. âWell, that was⌠unexpected,â she says, laughing nervously. âI suppose even the most poised among us can have a moment of... gracelessnessâ
The Empress raises a perfectly arched brow, but remains silent, watching with a cool, unreadable expression.
Your sister, in her panic, decides to fill the silence with her usual brand of arrogance. âIâm sure someone will fix that platform,â she says, waving a hand dismissively at the servants. âHonestly, who would set up something so poorly constructed? I couldâve been seriously hurt!â She glances at the Empress and adds, in a misguided attempt to flatter, âBut of course, I suppose even the Empressâs court isnât immune to suchâŚÂ minor mistakes.â
Ace and Deuce both freeze. Your stomach drops.
The Empressâs lips tighten just slightly, a subtle but dangerous shift. âMinor mistakes?â she repeats, her voice icy and sharp.
Your sister, utterly clueless, laughs again, louder this time, still trying to brush it off. âOh, of course, not your fault, Your Majesty. Iâm sure your staff just⌠overlooked something. It happens, right?â
The crowdâs collective inhale is deafening. Even Deuce slaps a hand to his forehead, muttering, âOh noâŚâ
Ace looks like heâs about to choke trying to hold back his laughter. âSheâs done,â he whispers gleefully.
The Empress finally stands, her gaze narrowing on your sister. âI assure you,â she says with a smile that doesnât reach her eyes, âsuch oversights are very rare in my court.â
Your sister opens her mouth to respond, but thereâs no coming back from this. The Empress has already turned away, addressing one of her advisors with a wave of dismissal. Your sister is left standing there, soaked and utterly humiliated, in front of everyone.
As the system pings again in your headâ "System:Â Bonus Quest Complete: Cause a Major Faux Pas. Reward: 50 Villain Points"âyou canât help but smirk.
"Well," Ace leans in, whispering, "mission accomplished."
As you watch your sister fumble through an awkward curtsy, trying to salvage what little dignity she has left, the familiar ping of the system goes off in your head againâbut this time, it sounds... different.
"Villain System: Achievement UnlockedâTotal Disaster;
Reward: 50 Villain Points + Bonus Perk!"
Before you can fully register the notification, the system continues, breaking its usual monotone, deadpan style.
"System: Honestly..." there's a brief pause, like it's trying to hold back a laugh. "I have to hand it to you. This... this was beautiful. I mean, wow, top-tier humiliation. The look on her face? Priceless. I didnât think you had it in you to pull off such magnificent chaos so effortlessly. Not to mention the insult to the Empress."
Another chuckleâthis time, you can feel it reveling in the scene.
"System: You're really becoming quite the villain, huh? Iâm almost impressed. Well, because you've reached a new level of villainyâand honestly, youâve earned itâhereâs a special perk. You hit 1,000 points, and Iâll give you an out. You can get rid of me. Completely. No more schemes, no more quests. Freedom from this system."
For a moment, you can barely believe it. The systemâs offering you a way out?Â
"System: Oh, but until then, Iâm not going anywhere. And really, wouldnât it be a shame to stop now? Youâre on such a roll."
You shake your head, but even you can't deny the chaos was a little satisfying. Your sister, now the talk of the court, dripping with embarrassment, is living proof of that.
"What's up?" Ace asks, glancing at you. "You look like you just won something."
"Yeah," you mutter under your breath, smirking. "Something like that."
Villain Points: 500. 500 points to freedom.
The test results had come out earlier today and Riddle had topped it, as usual. But he was not allowed to come celebrate with the rest of you, which has led here.
Itâs late at night, and the manor is quietâeerily quiet, except for the soft rustling of leaves outside Riddle's window. You stand beneath the window with a strawberry tart in your hands, feeling very much like a strange version of a fairy-tale hero. Except, instead of rescuing a damsel in distress, you're here to sneak contraband dessert to an overworked boy whose mother monitors his sugar intake like a hawk.
"Riddle!" you whisper-shout up to the second floor. "Let down your hairâuh, I mean, your bedsheets!"
Thereâs a pause before Riddleâs head pops out of the window, confused but intrigued. "What are you doing out there? Itâs late."
"Shhh!" You gesture for him to keep it down, holding up the tart like itâs some sort of forbidden treasure. "I brought you a strawberry tart. Your mom might have banned it, but we live dangerously in this house."
Riddleâs eyes widen, and for a moment, you think he might actually tear up. "You... You risked sneaking a tart past Mother... for me?" He looks genuinely touched, and you can see the internal battle raging between his desire to stay obedient and his deep, insatiable love for strawberry tarts.
"Yes, I am willing to defy the Tart Tyrant for you," you say, nodding solemnly. "Now hurry up and lower the bedsheets before she finds out and decides to have me beheaded for dessert-related treason."
Riddle hesitates for just a second, but the lure of the forbidden pastry is too strong. After a moment, he vanishes from the window, only to return with a neatly tied set of bedsheets. He throws them down like some kind of serious, rule-abiding Rapunzel.
You take a second to appreciate the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, then quickly tie the tart to the end of the sheet rope. âAlright, here comes the goods!â You give the bedsheets a tug to let him know the package is secured.
With a little effort, Riddle pulls up the tart with the same solemnity youâd expect if he were receiving an ancient royal artifact instead of sugar-laden contraband. He gingerly unties the tart and holds it in his hands, staring at it like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.
You then somehow use the bedsheets to get up there too. Wow maybe you are truly a fairy-tale hero.
"You truly are remarkable," Riddle says, his voice soft with gratitude. He turns his gaze toward you with such an earnest expression that you suddenly feel self-conscious.
You wave him off, trying to play it cool. "Eh, it's nothing. Just saving you from a tartless existence."
But instead of saying anything, Riddle leans down and, with the utmost care and sincerity, presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, like some sort of old-fashioned gentleman. "Thank you," he murmurs.
And thatâs when it happens.
Your brain shuts down. Completely. Like someone pulled the plug on your thoughts and left you staring blankly into space. The only thing running through your head is static. You don't even register the tart anymore. Did he justâ? Did Riddle Rosehearts justâ?
You short-circuit so hard that your mouth moves, but nothing coherent comes out. âGuh... buh... uh...â Great. So much for playing it cool.
Riddle, ever the gentleman, doesnât seem to notice your malfunction, as heâs too busy taking the tiniest, most delicate bite of the tart, savoring it like heâs trying to make it last forever. "Delicious," he whispers, clearly over the moon.
Meanwhile, youâre still stuck on the whole hand kiss thing. Did that actually just happen? Did you fall into an alternate reality? Is this still the same planet?
Ace is going to have a field day with this.
"Uh, well... goodnight!" You finally manage to blurt out before spinning on your heel and power-walking away, almost jumping off the balcony instead of climbing down, mentally screaming at yourself for turning into a malfunctioning robot over a simple gesture. You hear Riddle chuckle softly behind you, a sound that somehow makes your heart do a weird little flip, and then his window quietly closes.
The whole way back to your room, you're fighting off the most embarrassing grin. Maybe this little night mission was worth it after allâshort circuits and all.
The next morning, you wake up to a new notification from your ever-so-charming system.
"Villain System: New QuestâMake the heroine cry and win the baking competition. Reward: 100 Villain Points"
You stare at the message, blinking. Make the heroine cry? Thatâs one thing, butâŚÂ win the baking competition? You donât even bake.
"System: Oh, did I forget to mention? The heroine has won every year because itâs women-only, and the original villainess didnât care about trivial things like baking. Now sheâs got a free pass to victoryâunless, of course, you do something about it."
You roll your eyes. Right, of course. But then, an idea hits you. Trey. Who needs to bake when you know the one person who could win with his eyes closed?
In this kingdomâs prestigious baking competition, there's one important loophole: while only women are allowed to officially compete, each contestant is permitted a single helper. Of course, most participants choose their helpers from other women to maintain the spirit of the tradition. However, thereâs nothing in therules that says it has to be a woman.
The heroine, ever the strategic darling, has chosen none other than the Sixth Male Lead as her helperâan aspiring nobleman known for his meticulous manners and refined taste. His calm demeanor and careful attention to detail make him a safe bet, and you overhear the heroine boasting that, with his assistance, her victory is all but guaranteed.
Yeah, not this year.
Instead of following tradition, youâve asked Trey to be your helper. Trey Cloverârenowned for his skill in the kitchen, and quite possibly the one person who could bake the heroineâs smug little plans into pie. The original villainess never cared enough to bother with this competition, which gave the heroine free rein. But now? Now she has to face you, and by extension, Trey.
And Trey Clover doesnât play for second place when it comes to sweets.
Later that day, you find Trey in the gardens, tending to some herbs. He looks up, giving you that calm, friendly smile. "Need something?"
"Yeah, actually. Thereâs a baking competition coming up," you say nonchalantly, "and I need to win."
Trey raises an eyebrow. "I thought it was women-only?"
You shrug. "It is, but I thought you could, you know, help me win."
He chuckles, brushing some dirt off his hands. "What kind of help are we talking?"
"Let's just say," you grin, "weâll be making a dessert so good that even the Empress and Emperor will swoon. And if sister dearest happens to cry... well, that's just a bonus."
Trey looks amused but intrigued. "Alright, Iâm in. Letâs see what we can whip up."
The day of the competition arrives, and as expected, the heroine is floating around the kitchen like she owns the place. You catch a glimpse of her smug smile as she arranges her ingredients, clearly confident that victory is hers.
Little does she know.
You and Trey work quietly, making an intricate dessert that smells so good even the judges start peeking over your shoulder. Itâs a delicate mille-feuille with layers of crisp pastry, rich cream, and fresh fruit, and the entire hall is already filled with its tantalizing aroma.
"Are you sure you want to go this hard?" Trey asks, smirking as he plates the dessert. "This might be overkill."
You laugh. "Overkill is the goal."
As the competition moves forward, you notice the heroine starting to fidget. Her confidence wavers when she sees your masterpiece, and by the time judging begins, sheâs outright glaring at you.
The Empress and Emperor sit at the head of the table, and when your dessert is placed in front of them, you watch as they take a bite. First, thereâs silence. Then, the Empress closes her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.
The Emperor leans back, sighing deeply. "This... this is incredible."
Even the Prince, sitting beside them, takes a bite and pauses. He leans in toward you with a subtle smile. "Such talent... A skillful partner would be quite the asset to the royal family."
You raise an eyebrow but smile politely.
"While I appreciate the compliment, Your Highness, Iâm not interested in marriage at the moment. My hands are quite full with other matters."
The Prince looks mildly disappointed, but the Empress shoots him a warning glance, and he wisely backs off. You can feel the heroine seething from across the room.
Then, Riddle, whoâs been observing the competition from the side, steps up to taste your creation. He takes a small, cautious biteâand his entire face lights up. His normally stern expression softens, and he looks so genuinely pleased that you canât help but feel a little flustered yourself. Who knew Riddle could be this cute?
"This is... delightful," he says quietly, and for a moment, you forget about the competition entirely.Â
"Glad you like it," you say, your voice a little softer than you intended.Â
Ace nudges you from the side, wiggling his eyebrows. "You blushing? Never thought I'd see the day."
"Shut up," you hiss back, feeling your face heat up even more.
Meanwhile, the heroine, who has been watching the whole scene, looks on the verge of tears. As the judges declare you the winner, she loses her composure entirely and storms out of the hall, sniffling dramatically.
Ace bursts into laughter. "Wow, you really made her cry, huh? Iâm loving this!"
Deuce, more concerned, pats you on the back. "Well... at least you won the competition?"
You smirk, satisfied. "Yeah, Iâd say that went pretty well."
As you leave the competition hall, your system chimes in again.
"Villain System: Quest complete! 100 Villain Points awarded."
"System: Iâll be honest. I wasnât expecting you to fluster Riddle like that, but hey, bonus points for making the Prince back off too. Well played. +25 points"
Villain Points: 625. 375 points left till freedom.
You had to do something about the funny little flips your heart did when you even dared to glance at Riddle and so here you were, dramatically declaring a âStrategy Meetingâ with Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce. You had even assigned rolesâlike some kind of overly elaborate battle planâbecause, in your mind, this was war. And the enemy? Your increasingly uncontrollable feelings for a certain redheaded, rule-abiding, perfectionist nobleman.
You stood at the head of the table like a general ready to command the troops, but instead of warriors, you had your collection of questionable allies. Trey and Cater were lounging comfortably, while Ace and Deuce seemed entirely too excited about the prospect of scheming.
âAlright,â you began, pacing in front of the group. âHereâs the deal. I think I like Riddle.â
You were met with silence at first. Then, Ace broke into the most ridiculous grin. âPfft, of course you do. Youâve been mooning over him for weeks now. Congratulations on finally catching up to reality!â
Deuce elbowed him. âHey, donât make fun of them! Itâs... uh... commendable that youâre so serious about it.â He gave you a sympathetic smile, like you were some kind of lovesick puppy.
Cater, who had been leaning back casually in his chair, gave you a teasing wink. âAww, our little villain is going soft. I guess all that sneaking tarts and saving him from certain doom finally got to you, huh?â
Trey, ever the calm and rational one, simply folded his arms and gave you a small smile. âWell, it makes sense. You two have spent a lot of time together. Heâs... a good guy. A bit high-strung, but good.â
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. âThis is not helpful. I need a plan, people! Riddleâs mom already thinks Iâm a conniving little troublemakerâhow am I supposed to make a good impression while also, you know... not being painfully awkward around him?â
Ace raised his hand dramatically like you were in the middle of a classroom. âSimple solution: you donât. Just be yourself. Heâs already used to your brand of chaos. Besides, you already saved him from his momâs sugar ban, so Iâd say youâre ahead of the game.â
Deuce nodded, adding, âYeah! Plus, youâre like, really smart and cool, so... youâve got this!â
âOkay, so,â Cater piped in, âin terms of strategy, you could always stage some grand gesture. I mean, Riddleâs all about tradition and propriety, right? What if youââ
Suddenly, a voice interrupted from behind you. âWhat are you all plotting now?â
You froze, spinning around to see none other than your mother, the Duchess, standing in the doorway with an amused look on her face. She had an uncanny talent for sneaking up on people.
âM-Mother! I, uh... itâs nothing serious. Weâre justââ
She raised an eyebrow, cutting off your fumbling explanation with a wave of her hand. âIf youâre scheming about Riddle Rosehearts, dear, you could use a bit more refinement. Fortunately for you, Iâve decided to assist.â
âWait, what?â You blinked at her, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath you. âYouâre... helping me?â
She gave you a knowing smile. âWell, itâs about time someone showed that other daughter of mine what true charm looks like. Youâve always been the more intelligent one.â
âUh... thanks?â You werenât quite sure how to respond to that.
Without another word, your mother turned to the butler who had been standing in the hallway. âMake sure everything is in place for dinner tonight. And do make certain the maids are aware of our... little plans.â
âYes, Your Grace,â the butler replied with a subtle bow before whisking away.
You stared after him, feeling both flustered and slightly panicked. âMother... what are you planning?â
âOh, donât worry,â she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. âItâs nothing too drastic. Just a little adjustment to how tonightâs dinner will go.â
That evening, you found yourself at the weekly gathering/dinner, sitting at the long, ornate table alongside your parents, Riddle, his mother, andâunfortunatelyâyour sister, who was already droning on about some utterly mundane topic that only she could make sound self-important.
And then, the plan began.
The maids moved around the table, loudly discussing their work. "Oh, our youngest lady is always so kind to us, isn't she? Such a breath of fresh air!"
"Yes, yes," another maid replied with an exaggerated nod. "And always so intelligent! Did you hear how she handled that situation at the garden party? Simply remarkable!"
Riddleâs mother perked up at the praise, her sharp gaze cutting from the maids to you, her expression intrigued. Your sister, on the other hand, looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel.
The butler, who had been refilling glasses, suddenly spoke up as well. "Ah, I must say, our young miss has shown extraordinary grace and poise recently. A true future lady of the house, if I may be so bold."
You were mortified. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you desperately tried to shrink into your seat. This was not what you had planned. You could feel Riddleâs eyes on you, and you were certain you were about to pass out from sheer embarrassment.
Your sister, however, could not stay silent. âExcuse me?â she snapped. âI donât know what all this nonsense is about, butââ
But the maids and butler kept going, seemingly oblivious to her anger. "Indeed, I canât think of anyone more suited to such a role!" one of the maids declared.
Riddleâs mother hummed thoughtfully, clearly impressed by the blatantâand likely orchestratedâpraise. âIt is quite rare to find such well-rounded young women these days,â she mused, looking at you with a glint of approval in her eyes. âPerhaps I should consider the advantages of such a match after all.â
You nearly choked on your drink. Riddle, across from you, was staring at his plate like he was trying to become one with it. He looked both horrified and... pleased? Maybe?
And just when you thought things couldnât get worse, Aceâbecause of course, it had to be Aceâleaned over and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, âHey, at least you know Riddle's mom doesnât hate you anymore. Progress!â
You shot him a glare, but the damage was done. Everyone at the table had heard, and Riddleâs mother raised a curious eyebrow at you both. You could practically feel Riddle sinking further into his seat.
The dinner continued with more awkward small talk, with your mother throwing in subtle digs at your sisterâs lack of... everything, while you tried your hardest not to combust from sheer humiliation.
But heyâif nothing else, at least Riddle wasnât the only one who felt like he needed to escape to the nearest corner. Small victories, right?
"System: Quest: Make Riddle Say Something Mean to Your Sister. Reward: 100 Points"
The system pings you with the next quest, and you almost laugh out loud. Get Riddle to say something mean to your sister? The guy whose idea of an insult is reminding someone to follow the rules more carefully? You know thisâll be near impossibleâhis mother raised him to be the picture of etiquette and politeness.
But, then again, opportunity tends to strike when you least expect it, and with your villain system, those moments come with a bit of flair.
It all starts innocently enough: horseback riding. Youâre a natural at it, of course, and as you effortlessly guide your horse around the course, your sister glares at you from the sidelines, arms crossed.
"Oh, how shocking," she drawls loud enough for everyone to hear. "A masculine activity. How unbecoming for a lady."
Before you can snap back, someone else beats you to it. "That's funny, I quite like horseback riding too," The Empress says, her voice as polite as ever but with just enough edge to make your darling sister freeze.
And when Riddle adds that he also enjoys horseback riding, you almost snort. Of course, he does. Riddle would have to enjoy something that involves strict rules and perfect posture.
Your sister's eyes flicker toward Riddle, suddenly aware that insulting horseback riding is not the wisest move when he is within earshot. She stammers, trying to recover. "IâI mean, I didnât say it was entirely inappropriate. Itâs justâ"
You just stare at her, subtly challenging her to continue. And she takes the bait.
Sensing an opportunity to show off, your sister decides to prove sheâs good at it too. "Iâll show you how a real lady rides a horse," she declares, moving to mount the closest horse. The horse, sensing the storm of bad vibes radiating from your sister, immediately snorts and takes a few steps back.
âSee, even the horse knows better,â Ace mutters behind you, earning a chuckle from Deuce. You canât help but grin.
Your sisterâs attempt to get on the horse is nothing short of a disaster. Her foot slips, her balance is off, and the horse finally has enough. In one swift move, it bucks her off before sheâs even properly seated, sending her tumbling to the ground in an undignified heap.
For a second, there's stunned silence. Then, in true âsisterâ fashion, she gets up, furious and embarrassed, and hits the horse on the flank.
Oh no. She did not just hit the horse.
Riddleâs face turns redânot his usual "Iâm about to scold you" red, but the kind of red that suggests a leviathan-level insult has just taken place. "What are you doing?" he snaps, shocking everyone in earshot. Even you pause, surprised.
You quickly recover, barely holding back your grin. You can already feel the points tallying up.
"That was completely uncalled for," Riddle continues, his voice icy. "You should apologize to the horse."
Your sister sputters, clearly not used to being reprimanded by someone like Riddle.
"IâI didnâtâ"
"Violence toward an innocent animal," the Emperor chimes in from his observation point, his tone dripping with disapproval. "Disgraceful behavior."
The Imperial Princess, who has been watching with her arms crossed, gives a snort of laughter. "Well, clearly not everyone can handle themselves with grace on horseback."
Your sister looks like sheâs about to implode, her cheeks burning redder than Riddle's hair. "I didnât meanâ"
"Please," Riddle says, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. "Letâs not make this any worse for yourself."
The system pops up again with a cheeky little message.
"+25 bonus points: The system respects that level of carnage. Well done."
Honestly, even you canât help but respect the sheer scale of the damage your sister just managed to cause to her own reputation in a matter of minutes.
Riddle, whoâs usually the epitome of control, saying something that mean? The Emperor, the Imperial Princess, and the Empress all scolding her? Itâs a beautiful mess, and youâll take the points with a smile.
Villain Points: 750. 150 points left till freedom
Youâre lounging in the courtyard, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when chaos inevitably strikes. You donât know why you thought you could have a quiet afternoon without something going wrong. The universe must have you on its watchlist, and today, it decided to throw a wrench in the form of Deuce Spade sprinting across the courtyard, holding a goose under his arm like some kind of barnyard Olympian.
The goose then shows a surprising amount of athleticism and manages to pivot in his arms and jump down.
âGET BACK HERE, YOU FEATHERED MENACE!â Ace screams behind him, waving what looks like a loaf of bread. You raise an eyebrow, confused but intrigued. âUh⌠do I even want to know?â
âTheyâre trying to catch the Duchessâs prized goose,â Cater pipes up, appearing out of nowhere. âIt escaped from the coop. Again.â
You squint at the scene unfolding before you, watching as Deuce trips over a bush, while grabbing its tail, sending both himself and the goose tumbling to the ground, feathers everywhere. The goose immediately makes a break for it, flapping wildly in your direction. You canât help itâsome deep, misguided instinct kicks in. You blame your duel with the chicken of doom. Must help friends! Must catch rogue poultry!
You leap to your feet, determination surging through you. This is it. This is your time to shine. You throw yourself at the goose, diving for it like a soccer goalie saving the game-winning shot.
And you miss. Not just missâyou whiff it entirely. Instead, you skid along the ground, getting a face full of dirt and grass. The goose, clearly uninterested in whatever heroic save you were attempting, runs straight towards the nearby rose bushes, where Riddle is calmly reading a book.
âGot it!â you yell, trying to recover from your very undignified position. You scramble to your feet and sprint towards the goose, not thinkingâabsolutely no thoughtsâjust vibes and feathers.
âSTOP THAT GOOSE!â you hear Deuce shout, which only makes you run faster.
But then⌠things go wrong. Horribly, hilariously wrong.
The goose, in a feat of poultry acrobatics, launches itself directly at Riddle. In a panic, you leap towards them, determined to protect Riddle from the poultry projectile. Unfortunately, in your zeal to save him, you overestimate your athletic prowess, launching yourself way too high and way too fast.
You soar right over the rose bushes. For a brief, glorious moment, you feel like youâre flying. Like Icarus, youâve flown too close to the sun.
And then gravity kicks in.
You crash into Riddle, knocking his book out of his hands as you both go down in a very undignified heap. Riddle lets out a startled yelp, and youâre pretty sure your entire life flashes before your eyes in that split second.
When the dust settles, youâre on the ground, somehow tangled up with both Riddle and the goose, who looks mildly offended by this whole debacle. You can barely process the pain in your elbow because, oh noâyouâve just tackled Riddle Rosehearts in broad daylight. Youâre doomed. Absolutely doomed.
Riddle, red-faced and thoroughly flustered, pushes himself up, brushing stray feathers off his jacket. âWhat in the worldâŚ?â
âI, uh⌠was trying to help?â you say weakly, still half-sprawled on the ground with the goose now comfortably perched on your back, like some sort of bizarre poultry crown.
Before Riddle can reply, Ace and Deuce finally catch up, breathless and thoroughly amused by the sight before them.
âNice one!â Ace cackles, doubling over with laughter. âI didnât think youâd go for the full-on tackle!â
âYeah, wow,â Deuce adds, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. âReally⌠really brave of you. Or maybe just⌠really dumb?â
Cater, meanwhile, is gleefully giggling during the entire thing. "I canât believe you almost took out Riddle over a goose!â Riddle glares at them, cheeks still a furious shade of pink. âThis is not funny. Someone could have been hurt!â
You finally manage to sit up, the goose still somehow perched atop your shoulder. You look up at Riddle, giving him a sheepish grin. âUh, well⌠thanks for breaking my fall?â
Riddle huffs, brushing dirt off his sleeves as he stands. âNext time, please consider not risking your life over poultry.â
âAw, donât be mad, Riddle,â Cater teases, still giggling. âOur hero here just wanted to protect you from the fierce Goose of Doom!â
Riddle shoots him a glare that could melt ice.
Ace leans over, giving you an exaggerated thumbs-up. âHonestly, this is peak comedy. I canât wait to see the look on Treyâs face when he hears about this.â
You groan, already feeling the embarrassment sink in. âJust⌠just help me up, please.â
Riddle offers you a hand, though he still looks like heâs debating whether to scold you or just cry. As he pulls you to your feet, the goose squawks indignantly, finally hopping off your shoulder to strut away, victorious.
âSee?â Ace says, still grinning like a fool. âThe goose is fine. No harm done.â
âNo harm,â Riddle repeats, looking at you with a sigh. âExcept perhaps to our dignity.â
You canât help but laugh at that, your cheeks burning. âYeah, well, dignity is overrated. At least we caught the goose⌠eventually.â
Riddle shakes his head, a small smile finally tugging at his lips. âNext time, letâs leave the heroics to someone a little more... suited for it, shall we?â
You nod, rubbing your sore elbow. âDeal. But if that goose comes at you again, Iâm not making any promises.â
Riddle just shakes his head, turning away to pick up his book. And he takes your hand and ties a handkerchief around a scratch you didnât even realize was bleeding. You can still hear the teasing laughs from Ace, Deuce, and Cater echoing in your ears, but you canât help the grin that tugs at your own lips.
Yeah, you mightâve girlbossed a little too close to the sun today. But at least you made Riddle smile and he held your hand!(kinda) . And, well, the goose is still alive, so thereâs that. Small victories.
"System: Quest: Become the Flower of the Ball. Reward: 50 Points"
The system's new quest pops up with a glorious pingâBecome the Flower of the Ball. Easy enough, right? Except, of course, your sister has always held that title. The "Flower of the Ball" is not just the prettiest person at the event; itâs the one who commands the room, whose influence and elegance leave everyone talking for weeks. And you? Well, with Cater on your side, youâre about to change that.
First step: rumors. Cater helps you work your way through the gossip circuit like a seasoned pro. With just a few whispered suggestions here and there, you have half the ball convinced that youâll be arriving in something that will make your sisterâs dress look like an afterthought.
Next, your motherâwhoâs never liked your adopted sister, mainly because of your father's favouritism âdoes her part by pulling the strings and reserving the best tailor exclusively for you. Your sister? Sheâs stuck with second-rate options, fuming in the background. By the time you step into the ball, you look absolutely perfect. The dress is a masterpiece of fabric and sparkle, the kind that makes everyoneâs heads turn the second you enter.
Cater sneaks by your side as you walk in. "Nailed it, babe," he whispers, giving you a wink. "They're already talking about how your dress makes you look like a literal god."
And indeed, the whispers from the crowd follow you like a wave. Mission accomplished.
Your sister, of course, tries to maintain her usual position of dominance. Sheâs chosen the 7th male lead as her escortâa decision that reeks of desperation since she couldn't snag a higher-ranked noble. You, meanwhile, had originally planned to attend with Ace and Deuce, they were your closest friends after all, just to keep things low-key. But before you can finalize that plan, Riddle appears, looking composed as ever, and offers you his arm.
"I thought it might be appropriate if you accompanied me," he says with a shy smile. "Since my fiancĂŠe has chosen to attend with someone else this evening."
You almost laugh. Of course, she has. She likely thought it would make her look more desirable, but now it's given you a perfect in. Going to the ball with Riddle is about as high-profile as it gets.
Your sisterâs eyes widen the moment she sees you walk in with him. Her expression morphs into barely-contained outrage, but before she can say anything, another bomb drops.
Riddleâs motherâstern and poised as alwaysâleans over to one of her confidantes and just loud enough for you and your sister to hear, says, "Well, perhaps this arrangement is for the best. It wouldnât be surprising if we reconsider the sister for our familiesâ union."
Cue dramatic gasp.
Your sisterâs face twists in horror, while the 7th male lead stands there, visibly confused as to why heâs even part of this drama. "Whatâwhat did she mean by that?!" your sister hisses, shooting daggers at you and Riddle.
You smile sweetly. "Oh, who knows? Perhaps she just appreciates my company more."
Before your sister can explode, the Imperial Princess herself enters the fray. Your sister, still seething, is barely holding it together when she steps forward to greet the Princess, but her curtsey is sloppy. The Princess raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Hmm, interesting technique," she says coldly, her eyes flicking to you with approval as you execute your bow with flawless grace.
Your sister sputters, trying to recover, but itâs too lateâthe Princessâ interest is already elsewhere. The rest of the ball quickly follows suit, flocking to your side. Riddle, ever the gentleman, offers you a subtle smile as the room begins to orbit around you instead of your sister.
And then, like clockwork, your sister makes yet another blunder. This time, itâs with the cutlery at the dinner table. The 7th male lead awkwardly copies her, both of them managing to insult half the table in the process. Youâd almost feel bad, but honestly, theyâre making it too easy.
The system, naturally, is having the time of its life. "+25 points: Honestly, this is comedy gold. Extra points for the mess."
You flash a victorious smile, knowing that by the end of the night, youâll be crowned as the new Flower of the Ballâyour sisterâs reign well and truly over.
Villain points: 825. 175 points to go.
Riddle wasn't quite sure when it happened. Maybe it had been a gradual realization, building slowly every time he saw you speak your mind with that sharp wit of yours, or maybe it was something that had struck him like a lightning bolt during a moment like thisâwatching you hold an entire room's attention, bright and confident in your own, distinct way.
You were just so... you. The way you spoke, that glint of mischief in your eyes whenever you were about to say something cleverâit was entirely captivating. It was easy to see why people were drawn to you, why they wanted to bask in your energy.
Right now, you were standing near the center of the room, laughing animatedly as you shared some story with your friends. Your expression was full of life, each gesture adding color to your words, your smile lighting up the whole space. Riddle couldnât help but find his gaze lingering on you, taking in every detail.
And then, out of nowhere, you turned your head, locking eyes with him across the room. For a split second, he felt his breath catch. He should look away, he told himself. But he couldn't. He was rooted in place as you spotted him.
Your face lit up even moreâif that was even possibleâand you raised your hand, giving him an enthusiastic wave, completely unabashed. There was something so genuine, so utterly you, in that wave. Your arm flailed just a little, and you were smiling so broadly, so openly, that you looked a little silly. But it didnât matter.
Because, in that moment, Riddle felt something click into place. He might like you. He might like you quite a lot, actually.
Without even thinking, Riddle found himself waving back, a small smile creeping onto his face. He felt warm, a strange fluttering sensation settling in his chest. He probably looked ridiculous, waving with that soft, dazed look in his eyes, but he couldnât bring himself to care.
You gave him a thumbs-up, your grin widening, and Riddle had to stop himself from laughing. His heart was pounding in his chest now, a warmth creeping up his neck, and the realization hit him with startling clarity: you made him feel light. You made him feel... happy, in a way he hadnât quite understood before.
He might have spent his whole life avoiding this kind of chaos, but when it came to youâwhen it came to your laughter, your brightness, your way of pulling him into your orbitâRiddle found he didnât mind the chaos at all.
In fact, he was pretty sure he was completely smitten with it.
"Villain System: New QuestâHumiliate the heroine in front of the heir to the throne, the First Princess. Reward: 100 Villain Points"
You read the message and resist the urge to sigh. Your sister is a piece of work, sure, but the system really seems hellbent on making her your eternal punching bag. But hey, if the system insists⌠who are you to resist?
As luck would have it, the annual hunt is coming upâan event where the bachelors of the court go off into the woods to prove their worth, while the bachelorettes sit around and gossip like they're at an overpriced brunch. However, this year, the Imperial Princess, renowned master swordswoman and all-around terrifying person, has decided to spice things up by organizing a competition of swordsmanship for the ladies.
Before the hunt and the competition officially start, it's tradition for those not participating in the hunt to present charms to their loved onesâlittle tokens of affection and support to tie onto their swords before they charge off to slaughter things in the woods. Itâs all very romantic, except, of course, when itâs you and your friends.
You've prepared four charms for Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce. Mostly because you know these four will be fighting like it's a matter of life or death (because, let's face it, itâs mostly about showing off at this point), and the least you can do is give them something to remind them not to do anything stupid and die.
You hand them out one by one, and each of them reacts in their own, very predictable way.
Cater takes his with a grin, twirling it between his fingers like itâs a prize from a carnival. "Aw, thanks, bestie! Now I have no choice but to win." He strikes a pose, charm held up as if heâs already envisioning the animal he's gonna get.
Deuce just flushes, taking the charm with both hands as if it's some sacred object. "I, uh, Iâll do my best!" he declares, looking both touched and slightly stressed by the responsibility youâve just put on him.
Ace rolls his eyes, snatching his charm like youâve just given him an extra chore. "Ugh, seriously? Now I gotta win for you?" He gives a dramatic sigh, but you can tell heâs secretly proud, especially with the way he ties it onto his sword with a flourishâmaking sure everyone nearby notices.
Trey, ever the gentleman, accepts his charm with a warm smile, nodding in thanks. "I appreciate it," he says, his tone so sincere you almost feel bad about how unserious the others are. "I'll try to bring back something worthy of this."
You wave them off with a grin. "Just try not to get yourselves killed, alright? I donât need the guilt."
They nod, though Ace gives you a playful smirk. "No promises, but hey, if I survive, I'll owe you one."
Youâre not entirely sure if thatâs comforting, but at least they seem motivated... in their own, ridiculous way.
But then comes the surprise: Riddle. Normally, Riddle doesnât accept charms from anyone. The whole court knows he rejects them all, your sisterâs included, and itâs practically common knowledge that theyâre engaged.
And yet, as youâre about to turn away, you feel someone tug gently on your sleeve.
You look back, and thereâs Riddle, cheeks tinged pink, looking almost⌠shy? âI⌠noticed you hadnât given me a charm,â he says, his voice quieter than usual.
Your heart skips a beat. Riddle? Asking you for a charm? You quickly pull out an extra special one youâd prepared just in case, trying not to look too smug as you hand it over. âOf course, I saved the best for last,â you tease.
He takes it with both hands, his blush deepening, and carefully ties it to his sword. "Thank you," he says, the sincerity in his voice making you feel just a little warm inside.
The time for the competition arrives after they leave and naturally, your sister finds this whole idea beneath her. Women should be "gentle and poised," she says, like she hasnât spent the last three months practicing how to flutter her eyelashes in just the right way to ensnare the nearest man.
Then she makes a godawful comment. "I'm sure I'm better than everyone here anyways."
The Princess's eye twitches at your sisterâs comment, and you can practically smell the impending doom. âIs that so?â she says, voice calm but sharp enough to cut glass. âThen perhaps youâd like to prove it.â
Your sister blinks, feigning innocence. âOh, but Your Highness, you're a general, a dame, it would hardly be fairââ
âNo, no,â you butt in, already feeling the villainous urge rising. You smile sweetly at the Princess, âIâll do it.â
Your sisterâs eyes widen, and you swear you see a flicker of fear. âYou?â
âYes, me.â You roll your wrist casually, like this is nothing. After all, youâve been secretly training with your mother(a former knight) for weeks. And letâs be realâif you can endure her strict-as-hell lessons without fleeing for your life, your sister stands no chance.
The crowd of onlookers murmurs, excited at the prospect of some royal drama. The Princess smiles approvingly. âVery well. Letâs see what youâre made of.â
The competition begins, and your sisterâoh, sweet, naive, overly-confident sisterâstruts up to the sparring ring like sheâs about to breeze through this. She hasnât even drawn her sword, too busy preening for the audience.
The Princess stands off to the side, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. âWhenever youâre ready,â she says dryly.
Your sister scoffs, finally drawing her sword with confidence that stems from absolutely nothing tangible.. âThis wonât take long.â
It really doesnât.
You sidestep her first swing with ease, and she fumbles, her balance thrown off. Sheâs clearly never sparred against anyone with any actual skill, and it shows. You suppress a laugh, offering her a mockingly sweet smile. âHaving trouble?â
Her face flushes with anger, and she lunges again, this time with less grace and more brute force. You parry her strike effortlessly, spinning around her and tapping her shoulder lightly with your blade. âPoint.â
The crowd gasps, and you can practically feel Riddleâs mother watching you with approval from her seat. Your sister glares at you, red-faced and flustered. âThat was just luck,â she hisses.
âSure,â you reply, twirling your sword for added flair. âLetâs see if your luck improves.â
Spoiler: it doesnât.
By the end of the match, your sister is out of breath, red-faced, and thoroughly humiliated. You, on the other hand, havenât even broken a sweat. The Princess claps her hands together, beaming. âWell done! I think that settles the matter.â
Your sister looks like sheâs about to cry, and you canât resist twisting the knife just a little. âMaybe next time, youâll think twice before insulting women who actually know how to use a sword.â
The Princess snorts.
By the time the bachelors return from the hunt, everyoneâs gathered around to see who brought back the biggest game. As expected, Ace and Deuce present their game to you: Theyâd both managed to snag huge wolvesâboth proud and slightly smug. Cater hands you his deer with a wink and a grin. Even Trey, with his calm composure, looks pleased as he hands over his bear.
And then, to everyoneâs shock, Riddle approaches. Heâs carrying what is clearly the biggest game of the day,a bear and a lion, and as he presents it to you, the whole crowd falls silent.
Your sister looks absolutely mortified. The other male leads, meanwhile, are either empty-handed or have brought back something pathetically small in comparisonâa rabbit here, a pheasant there. But Riddle? Riddle has the prize catch, and heâs offering it to you, her sister who just humiliated her in front of the entire royal court.
The center of attention, you smile graciously as you accept the game, thanking him softly. The crowd erupts into whispers, all eyes on you and Riddle. Your sister looks like she wants to crawl into a hole and disappear, and you canât help but feel just a little triumphant.
Meanwhile, the system chimes in:
"Villain System: Quest complete! 100 Villain Points awarded"
"Villain System: Bonus reward! 50 Villain Points awarded.
System: I wasnât expecting you to charm all of the top hunters into giving you their game⌠but hey, overachieving is such a villainous trait. Well done."
You nearly roll your eyes at the systemâs snarky tone. Of course it would reward you for accidentally out-villaining yourself. But hey, whoâs going to complain about extra points?
Villain points: 975. 25 points to go, you're so close.
It was a peaceful afternoon in the garden, one of those rare moments where you and Riddle had a quiet space to just⌠exist. He was sitting across from you, his face slightly softened from its usual stern expression. The hedgehogs nearby were doing hedgehog things, oblivious to the world.
"I suppose itâs something I donât talk about often," Riddle started, his voice softer than usual, like he was letting you into a part of himself he kept locked away. "My mother was strictâis strict. Everything had to be perfect. The rules, the grades, my behavior⌠there was no room for failure. Not even a sliver."
You nodded, already knowing this story from your countless hours reading the webnovel. But hearing it from him directly? It hit differently.
"I wasn't allowed to have friends or play outside. My entire childhood was about memorizing rules and doing things perfectly," he continued. His eyes stayed on the hedgehogs, but his expression grew distant, lost in the painful memories. "Every mistake I made was a punishment⌠every misstep was a disappointment."
You could feel the lump forming in your throat. Here it comes. The part that always got you while reading.
"But the worst part," Riddle whispered, his voice almost cracking, "was that I started to believe I wasnât good enough⌠not for her, not for anyone."
That was it. The dam broke.
You tried to keep it togetherâyou really didâbut the sheer weight of Riddleâs story, the pain in his voice, it hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. You started sniffling. And then⌠it escalated.
Youâre not just crying; youâre ugly crying. Weâre talking snot, hiccups, the whole I-will-not-survive-this package.
And then, in between gasps, you suddenly blurt out, "I swear... I SWEAR, Iâll get revenge for you! No one will survive my wrath!" You shake your fist to the sky like youâre about to start a one-person war against his emotionally distant mother.
Riddle looks at you, eyes wide with shock. He hadnât expected this. No one had. Not even you.
"Are you⌠are you crying?" he asked, sounding both bewildered and concerned, because letâs face it, you were making sounds that werenât even human anymore. Somewhere between a hiccup, a wail, and a seal being slapped.
"Y-YES!" you sobbed, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, which didnât help because now you just had tear-streaked sleeves and a snotty nose. "IT'S SO SAD!"
Riddle blinked, completely caught off-guard. âItâs⌠itâs not thatââ
By this point, you were full-on hysterical, tears streaming down your face as you flailed around in righteous fury. Riddle just sat there, completely overwhelmed. He had expected maybe a few words of sympathy, a comforting pat on the shoulder. What he hadn't expected was for you to declare full-scale emotional war on his behalf.
Riddle, for his part, was speechless. And also⌠redder than his hair.
He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "I⌠appreciate the sentiment, butâ"
"No, Riddle!" you cut him off, wiping your nose aggressively with your sleeve again. "You deserve someone who loves you without conditions! And Iâm going to make sure the world knows it!" You stood up dramatically, only to trip over a rock, stumble, and fall back into your seat. "Ow."
Riddle, despite the chaos, couldnât help but let out a soft chuckle at your sheer determinationâand the fact that you were still crying while swearing vengeance. It was⌠endearing, in a very chaotic, unpredictable way.
You, however, were still in your feelings. "I canât believe your mom! Iâmâsniffleâgonna burn her rulebook. Watch me."
Riddle, who had started the conversation with the intention of sharing something personal, now found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions he didnât know how to handle. But⌠somehow, through your teary declarations of revenge and your intense empathy, he couldnât help but feel something stir inside him.
He looked at youâyour face blotchy, your eyes puffy, your determination unwavering despite the fact that you were an absolute messâand he realized that you werenât crying just because you felt bad. You were crying because you cared. Like, really cared.
His heart skipped a beat. Maybe⌠maybe you were the kind of person who could see past all his rules and expectations and justâfeel for him. No judgment. Just empathy.
"I⌠I didnât realize it would make you so upset," he said quietly, a soft smile pulling at his lips. "But thank you. Really."
Through your sniffling, you managed to nod and offer a watery smile. "Itâs not fair. You deserve better, Riddle. I mean it."
And with that, Riddle found himself falling just a little harder for youâugly crying and all.
Itâs a regular afternoon tea party, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and your sister is⌠making out with the eighth male lead in broad daylight behind a rose bush.
Ah. Classy.
You had only wandered over to sneak a mini ĂŠclair when you caught them. Whatâs worse is they werenât even being subtleâlike, they might as well have put up a sign that says, âWeâre Ruining Our Reputations Here.â
Shocked beyond measure, you accidentally let out the loudest and most undignified gasp. Itâs so loud that the entire tea party freezes mid-sip. Cups stop midair, all eyes turn to you like youâve just declared war on the empire.
âDid someone choke on a scone?â Trey asks, concerned, already standing to assess the pastry crisis.
You try to subtly redirect everyoneâs attention back to their tea, but itâs too late. The damage is done. The Imperial Princess, the Empress, the First Prince, the Emperor, Riddle, your parents, Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce, and Riddleâs momâall eyes are now locked on you and the unfortunate scene happening behind you.
Your sister and the eighth male lead pop their heads out of the bushes like deer caught in headlights, looking horrified. The heroine, of course, immediately bursts into tears. âI canât believe you! How could you ruin my private moment!â she wails, mascara already running.
You blink. "Private? You were basically holding auditions for 'Romeo and Juliet' in front of the entire garden."
"Enough!" The Empress's voice cuts through the chaos like a sword. She glares at your sister, then glances at you for an explanation. You're about to open your mouth whenâ
"An outrage!" The Imperial Princess thunders, stepping forward with the grace of a tiger ready to pounce. "Is this what passes for decorum these days?"
Before you can even begin to process the incoming storm, your sister points her trembling finger at you. âItâs her fault! SheâSheâs been plotting against me this whole time! She wanted to embarrass me!â
You raise an eyebrow, utterly deadpan. âBy forcing you to lock lips with the eighth male lead in broad daylight? Wow, my plans are so intricate even I donât understand them anymore.â
Ace is snickering so loudly into his teacup that heâs shaking, and Deuce is doing his best to hold back tears of laughter. Caterâs trying to stay neutral, but even heâs got a lopsided grin.
Riddle, on the other hand, looks like heâs trying to create a new spell that will instantly smite him while his mother⌠well, his mother seems like sheâs gonna cut someone.
Riddleâs mom, the always composed Lady Rosehearts, steps forward, glancing at your sister with such a cold expression that you could swear the temperature drops five degrees. âThis engagement," she begins icily, "will not proceed. If there is to be any union between our families, it will be with someone more appropriate." She then turns her gaze to you. âSomeone like you.â
Cue a choking noise from Riddle, who looks ready to faint on the spot. His cheeks turn red as he stares wide-eyed at his mother, clearly having not expected this. Treyâs eyes widen too, but he quickly coughs into his fist to hide a smirk. Ace elbows Deuce with barely concealed glee.
âU-Um, Mother?â Riddle manages to stutter out. âWhat⌠what do you mean?â
His mother gives him a rather smug look, clearly having already made up her mind. âI mean that if this union is to benefit both families, it would be much more suitable for you to marry someone with intelligence, grace, and⌠a bit of common sense. Someone who hasnât made a public fool of themselves.â Her eyes drift back to your sister, who is now dramatically sobbing into her hands.
Your father looks like heâs just been hit by a runaway carriage, staring in horror at the scene unfolding before him. âLady Roseheartsâsurely this is a misunderstandingââ
Riddleâs mom raises a hand. âIf there is to be any marriage, it will be between my son and your younger daughter. Or,â she adds sharply, âthere will be no marriage at all.â
You stand there, blinking at the whirlwind you just caused by gasping too loudly at your sisterâs terrible decision-making skills. You glance at your mom, who has her face buried in her hands. But when she peeks through her fingers, you see the slight glint of satisfaction in her eyes. Sheâs pretending to be scandalized, but deep down⌠sheâs absolutely living for this. You know she's elated that you got your guy.
The Emperor himself clears his throat, trying to restore order to the royal circus. âWell, this is⌠unprecedented,â he says, diplomatically, though thereâs a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, like heâs holding back laughter.
Your sister, meanwhile, continues her sobbing performance, practically flinging herself into your fatherâs arms. âPapa, how can they treat me like this?! You always told me Iâm the heroine!â
You try to hide your grin. âHeroine of a tragedy, maybe.â
âEnough!â Your father groans, looking utterly defeated. âYouâve done enough damage, girl.â
Riddle reluctantly speaks up. âI⌠I suppose Mother has made her decision.â His voice wavers a bit, and for a moment, he seems like he might collapse under the weight of all this sudden attention. But then, his eyes meet yours. And despite the chaos, despite his mortification, thereâs a small, shy smile on his face.
âYou,â he begins hesitantly, âyou wouldnât⌠mind this arrangement, would you?â
You laugh softly, glancing at the ridiculous mess that was this tea party. âHonestly? I'm quite fond of you so, why not?â
Ace lets out a snort of laughter, while Cater gives you a double thumbs-up from across the table. Trey just smiles warmly, giving you an approving nod. Even Lady Rosehearts looks somewhat satisfied.
The system, not one to miss an opportunity, dings in your head again.
"Villain System: New achievement unlocked! Engagement broken! Also⌠bonus points for making a royal spectacle of it. 100 Villain Points awarded."
With this, you're free from the system. Maybe it's time to retire your villain act.
You nearly burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. But for now, you simply give Riddle a small, reassuring smile.
âWell,â you say, âguess weâve got some wedding planning to do.â
It was a grand banquet, the kind where you could practically smell the prestige in the air. The Imperial Family was seated at the head of the table, all regal in their elegance. You were just trying not to trip over your own shoes and embarrass yourself in front of the Empress again.
Riddle, of course, was the epitome of decorum. Every movement was precise, every word carefully measured. Untilâjust as he went to refill the First Princeâs wine glassâhis hand slipped ever so slightly. The tiniest splash of wine splattered onto the pristine tablecloth. It was so small you wouldâve missed it if you werenât watching him so intently.
But Riddle noticed. Oh, did he notice.
His face immediately paled like heâd just seen a ghost wearing polka dots, and his eyes darted across the table to where his mother sat. Lady Rosehearts was blissfully unaware, engaged in conversation with the Emperor, but Riddle looked like he was about to meet his maker.
You could almost hear his internal screams.
To anyone else, it was a non-event. But to Riddle, this was a catastrophe of the highest order. You could practically feel him sweating next to you, despite his rigid posture.
Time to act.
âOh no!â You gasp dramatically, standing up and pointing directly at yourself. âI canât believe I just did that!â
Everyone at the table stopped and stared, clearly wondering what on earth you were talking about. Even the Empress raised an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and mild amusement flickering on her face.
Riddle blinked, looking at you like you had just spontaneously grown a second head. âWhatâŚ?â
You plopped down a napkin over the tiny splash of wine, covering the evidence. âIâI accidentally knocked the bottle when Riddle was pouring!â you announce loudly, offering a sheepish smile. âIâm so sorry, Your Highnesses. How embarrassing.â
The Empress smiled indulgently. âItâs quite all right, dear. Such things happen.â
Lady Rosehearts glanced over at the napkin-covered spot and frowned slightly, but then she looked back to you and said, âNo harm done.â
Meanwhile, Riddleâs face was a mix of confusion, shock, andâwas that gratitude? He blinked again, still processing what just happened. His mother hadnât even glanced at him in disapproval, and now you were taking the fall for a spill no one really noticed.
As the conversation around the table resumed, Riddle leaned in close, whispering under his breath, âWhy would you do that?â
You grinned and shrugged. âBecause Iâve got a heart of gold, obviously. And I quite like you, you knowâ
Before Riddle could respond, Ace, who had been watching the whole debacle with barely restrained glee, leaned over from his spot across the table. âYouâre down so horrendously,â he said, just loud enough for you and Riddle to hear.
You shot him a look. âYouâre just mad you donât have someone as gracious as me taking the fall for youâ
Ace wiggled his eyebrows. âMaybe, but at least I donât go taking the fall for my fiancĂŠ before weâre even married.â
Riddle flushed a bright red. âIâIâthis isnâtââ
You laugh, leaning back in your chair. âYou know, Ace, sometimes you just have to be a hero.â
âSure, âhero,ââ Cater chimed in, leaning in on the action with a smirk. âOr, you know, simp of the year.â
Riddle, still flustered, shoots both of them a glare, but you can tell heâs secretly relieved. The impending doom of his motherâs wrath was averted, all thanks to your impromptu performance.
With a small sigh, he finally mutters, âThank you,â so softly you almost miss it.
You give him a wink and lean back in your chair, feeling pretty pleased with yourself. âAnytime, partner.â
Ace nudges Deuce. âYou think we should get them âWorldâs Greatest Simpâ matching mugs for the wedding?â
Deuce shrugs. âI think itâd be cute.â
Riddle buries his face in his hands. "Please, spare me."
But the corners of his mouth are lifting, just slightly.
It happened when you decided to climb the academy's tallest tree. It was a brilliant idea in your mindâafter all, youâd just spotted an adorable sparrow nest precariously hanging from one of the highest branches. Rescue mission mode engaged.
The execution? Less brilliant.
You were halfway up, dangling from a particularly wobbly branch, when you heard a very familiar voice calling your name from below.
âWHAT are you doing?â Riddleâs voice was half exasperated, half astonished.
You looked down (mistake) and saw Riddle, arms crossed, staring at you with a mix of bewilderment and that very specific âYouâre in troubleâ look he usually reserved for rule-breaking.
âIâuh,â you stammered, âIâm saving the sparrows?â
There was a long pause. Riddle blinked. âYou climbed that tree for sparrows?â
âLook, I know itâs a bitââ
âThatâs the dumbest thing Iâve ever heard,â Riddle interrupted, running a hand down his face. âDo you even have a plan for getting down?â
â...Iâll figure that out later?â
Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like âOf course you will.â
By some miracle (or the sheer force of your chaotic will), you managed to secure the sparrow nest and shimmy your way down without falling to your doom. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you triumphantly held the nest up, smiling wide.
âSee? Mission accomplished!â
Riddle just stared at you, mouth slightly open, as if he couldnât believe what he was seeing. Then, out of nowhere, he laughedâa soft, bewildered laugh that grew louder the more he looked at you, dirt-covered and grinning like an idiot.
âYouâŚâ he started, shaking his head with a small, fond smile, âYouâre such an idiot.â
You blinked, caught off guard by his words. âIâhey!â
âNo, really,â he continued, stepping closer, eyes full of amusement. âYouâre reckless and absurd and you do things like climbing trees to save sparrows and covering for me in front of the imperial family without thinking it through.â
You frowned, feeling a bit defensive. âWell, someone has toââ
âAnd yetâŚâ His voice softened, and suddenly he was close, much closer than you expected. His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat. âAnd yet⌠I donât think I could imagine my life without you.â
Your brain took a second to catch up. âWait, what?â
Riddle took a breath, as if bracing himself, and then met your eyes with the most serious expression youâd ever seen on him. âIâm saying that Iââ he hesitated, his cheeks turning pink, but his voice was steady, âIâm in love with you.â
You stood there, stunned, staring at him in complete disbelief. Riddle Rosehearts just confessed his love to you.
ââŚEven after all the dumb stuff?â you asked, still processing.
Riddle laughed again, that soft, endearing laugh that made your heart flip. âEspecially after all the dumb stuff.â
There was a beat of silence where you just stared at each other, and for once, your usually silly brain kicked into overdrive. You stepped closer, leaning in with a sudden smoothness you didnât even know you were capable of.
âWell,â you said, your voice dropping to a low murmur as you tilted your head toward him, âlucky for you⌠Iâm your idiot.â
And before Riddle could even respond, you kissed him.
It was soft, and sweet, and everything perfect. For a moment, Riddle was so surprised he froze, but then he melted into it, his hand gently cupping your face like heâd been waiting forever to do this.
When you pulled back, Riddle was completely flustered, his face red as a tomato, but there was a dazed smile on his lips. âThat⌠That was unfair.â
You grinned, leaning your forehead against his. âYou love it.â
Riddle shook his head, still smiling. âI really do.â
And from that moment on, it was clear: you may be the academyâs resident chaos agent, but you were his chaos agent, and he wouldnât have it any other way.
You finally got a private moment to yourself. It was time to say goodbye to the villain system that you may or may not have gotten fond of.
The notification flashed across your vision, blindingly bright:
[Congratulations! Youâve accumulated enough points to finally say goodbye to the system.]
You blinked. "Wait⌠really? I can finally get rid of you?"
[Yes. Itâs been a wild ride, hasnât it?]
Wild ride was an understatement. The system had dragged you through schemes, quests, and enough drama to fill a ten-season TV show, all for the purpose of toppling your sister's reign of terror. And now, at long last, you were free.
"...So that's it?" you asked. "No final boss fight? No sudden plot twist where you take over my body and reveal youâre the real villain?"
There was a pause before the next notification popped up.
[Actually... about that plot twist...]
You groaned. "I knew it. What is it this time? Are you an evil AI? A demon? Oh God, please tell me youâre not my fairy godmother in disguise."
[Iâm⌠actually the original villainess.]
You stared at the screen for a solid five seconds. "...What."
[Yeah. You, uh, you kinda possessed me.]
You blinked rapidly, your brain short-circuiting. "WHAT?!"
[I was the original villainess of this world. The real one. You didnât just get isekaiâd into some random character. You got me, because I wanted you]
"Oh my God," you muttered. "Youâve been here the whole time?"
[Yup. Watching you fumble around like an idiot. No offense.]
"None taken, but wowâuh, okay," you said, rubbing your forehead. "So Iâve just been⌠helping you take revenge on your sister this whole time?"
[Well, duh.] The system sounded almost smug. [She tormented me horrifically when I was still alive. Thatâs why I pushed you to make her life miserable. I wanted justice.]
"Justice," you repeated, thinking back to all the chaos, sabotage, and general insanity. "That was justice?"
[Look, we both know she deserved it.]
You couldnât exactly argue with that. "I mean, fair. So what now? You just leave?"
There was a long pause before the system replied.
[Well... you actually have more points than you need. You can buy my identity if you want. Get the full story. You know, if you're curious.]
You hesitated for a second, but then shrugged. "Eh, why not. Hit me with it."
The system pinged, and suddenly, memories flooded your mindâher memories. You saw everything: her upbringing, her struggles, how she had tried so hard to be perfect for her family, only for her sister to constantly outshine her. You saw the cruel way her sister belittled her, humiliated her in front of the court, all while smiling sweetly to the outside world.
And then⌠the tragic ending, where the villainess was cast aside, labeled a monster, and killed.
By the end of it, you felt like youâd been punched in the gut.
"Oh, wow," you whispered. "She really was awful to you."
[Told you.]
"Man⌠Iâm so sorry," you said, your voice softening. "You went through all that, and then you ended up stuck with me."
[Honestly? It was kinda fun watching you screw up everything at first.] The systemâs tone was teasing now, but there was an undeniable warmth underneath it. [But you did a good job. Better than I ever did. You were a little unhinged, but hey, thatâs probably why I liked you.]
You couldnât help but laugh. "Thanks, I guess? I tried my best."
[You did more than that.] There was a strange fondness in the systemâs voice. [You turned this whole world upside down. You made people laugh, cry, and probably question their sanity. Honestly, I couldnât have asked for a better revenge.]
For a moment, you felt a lump form in your throat. "So⌠what now? Do you just disappear?"
[Yeah. Itâs time for me to move on. But⌠hey, Iâm rooting for you. Go live your best life. Be happy. And if you ever need to knock your sister down a peg, do it in style. For me.]
You smiled, blinking away the sudden wetness in your eyes. "You bet I will. And heyâwherever you go, I hope you get to relax for once. You deserve it."
[Pfft, I doubt it, but thanks.]
There was a brief pause, then another notification popped up.
[Goodbye, little reader. Itâs been real. And rememberâalways aim for the drama. It makes life more interesting.]
With that, the screen dimmed, and the system was gone.
You stared at the empty space where the notifications used to be. "Aim for the drama, huh?" you muttered, a grin tugging at your lips. "Well, I guess thatâs one thing Iâm good at."
As you turned around, ready to move forward without the system hovering over
you, you felt something. A strange, gentle sensation, like the faintest brush of a breeze, except it wasnât just that. It was warmer, more personal, and⌠oddly comforting.
It took a second, but then it hit you. "Waitâ"
You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Was thisâ?
It was as if the original villainess was giving you a ghostly hug. Soft, delicate, but so real you could almost feel her presence.
Tears welled up in your eyes, completely out of nowhere. You werenât supposed to feel emotional! Not over a systemâno, not just a systemâa person who had suffered more than you ever realized.
"I⌠Iâm sorry I couldnât fix everything for you," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I tried, I really did, butâŚ"
You felt that warmth grow a little stronger, like she was reassuring you, telling you that you had done enough. More than enough. Maybe, in a way, youâd freed her. Given her peace.
The weight of that ghostly embrace made your heart swell, and before you could stop yourself, you started crying. Again. But not the ugly, chaotic crying from beforeâthis was softer, deeper. The kind of crying that cleansed your soul.
"Iâll do it," you whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. "Iâll finish what I started. Iâll take her down. Not just for meâbut for you."
The presence seemed to linger for a moment longer, and then it was gone, leaving behind a quiet strength in its place.
You wiped your eyes, steeling yourself. The resolution hardened in your chest like iron. Everything you had been planning, all the revenge, the chaos you had been orchestrating, it wasnât just some game anymore. It was personal.
For her.
With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and looked out toward the path ahead, a fire burning brighter than ever inside you.
"Iâll finish this," you muttered, fists clenching. "And itâs going to be beautiful."
And with that, you walked forward, no longer just a reader in someone elseâs story.
This time, you were the one in control.
The day of your wedding to Riddle was perfect. Every detail was as if the universe had conspired to make sure nothing went wrong. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers, and laughter echoed throughout the grand venue. Your friends were all there, supporting youâAce and Deuce bickering over who looked better in their suits, Cater contantly checking if everything was aesthetically pleasing, and Trey managing everything behind the scenes with his usual calm, though you caught him grinning at you more than once, proud as ever. Even Che'nya had shown up, popping in and out of sight as he pleased, throwing teasing remarks at anyone who passed by.
Your sister, however, was absolutely seething. She stood stiffly, dressed impeccably, but with a scowl that could burn down the entire venue. You knew she was fuming because she had always imagined herself in your place, standing beside Riddle. Too bad for herâyou had the upper hand now.
You glanced at her briefly as you passed by, a wicked smile tugging at your lips. âDidnât think youâd have the guts to show your face here. I almost admire it,â you whispered sweetly as you walked past her, arm in arm with Riddle.
She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could get a word out, you tossed one last barb. âDonât worry, Iâll make sure to toss my bouquet to you. Maybe you'll get married next? You know, if they can find someone that can stand you?â
Riddle squeezed your hand as if to remind you to behave, but even he had a hint of a smirk on his face. Your friends snickered behind you, and Che'nya, perched casually on a railing, added a quiet, âOof, thatâs gotta sting.â
The ceremony itself was beautiful. Riddle stood there looking like heâd stepped out of a fairytale, his usually stern face softened by the moment. As you exchanged vows, there was a lightness to the air that made everything feel surreal. You could see how much he cared in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he held yours.
Ace, unable to help himself, whispered loudly, âYou sure Riddle isnât going to pass out from the nerves?â
Deuce elbowed him, but you could barely hold back a laugh. Even Riddle blushed a bit, shooting a glare at Ace but unable to hide his own amusement.
When it was time for the reception, the fun really kicked off. Che'nya gave a surprisingly emotional speechâwell, for him at least, as he vanished mid-sentence and then reappeared to finish his speech. Trey quietly made sure everything ran smoothly, even sneaking a slice of cake for you before the official cake-cutting, while Ace and Deuce took over the dance floor with some wild moves that had everyone laughing. Cater even got caught spiking the drinks and you couldn't help but laugh.
After the wedding, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the celebration. Everything had gone smoothly, almost too smoothly. Even Riddleâs mother, who was notoriously hard to please, had remained poised and polite throughout. But you knew there was still unfinished business, and the weight of it settled heavily on your chest.
Youâd seen the way she treated Riddle for yearsâthrough the pages of the webnovel and now, up close. Sure, she liked you, had even hinted at being pleased with your match to Riddle, but that didnât erase the years of pressure and manipulation she had placed on him. The burden he had carried because of her was too great to ignore, and today, of all days, you were not going to let it slide.
You spotted her near the garden fountain, quietly observing the festivities. For a moment, she looked almost serene, her icy exterior softened by the beautiful day. But that didnât change how you felt.
Taking a deep breath, you walked over. "Lady Rosehearts," you began, your voice steady but laced with unspoken tension.
She turned to you, a smile on her lips. "Ah, my dear. You were magnificent today. Truly the picture of grace and elegance. I couldn't have asked for a better match for my son."
Her words were warm, genuine even, but they only fueled the fire burning in your chest. You didnât respond right away, just stared at her, waiting for the right moment to unleash what youâd been holding in.
Finally, you spoke, your voice low. "I appreciate your kind words, but thereâs something I canât let go of." You stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "For years, youâve pushed Riddle to be perfect. You suffocated him with your expectations, and it hurt him. I canât stand by and let you pretend that didnât happen."
Lady Rosehearts blinked, caught off guard. She opened her mouth to respond, but you held up a hand.
"You like me, and Iâm grateful for that, but I love Riddle." Your voice wavered, not with fear, but with emotion. "And because I love him, I canât ignore the damage youâve caused. The pressure you put on him to be someone he wasnât. The way you never let him breathe. You may have done it out of love, but it hurt him."
She stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. There was no immediate defense, no cold dismissal. She simply looked⌠surprised.
"IâŚ" she began, but faltered. "I thought I was doing what was best for him. I wanted him to succeed, to be respected."
"But at what cost?" you snapped, unable to hold back the edge in your voice. "You wanted him to be respected so much that you never let him make his own choices. He deserves to be happy. And he deserves your respect, not just as your son, but as a person."
The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. You could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the realization that perhaps, just perhaps, she hadnât done as well by Riddle as she thought.
Before she could respond, Riddle appeared beside you, having noticed the tension from across the garden. He stood tall, his usual calm demeanor in place, but you could sense the vulnerability beneath it.
"Mother," he said quietly, his voice steady but with a new strength behind it. "Sheâs right."
His mother turned to him, the surprise evident on her face. "RiddleâŚ"
"I know you wanted the best for me. I know you love me. But I needed more than just discipline and expectations. I needed to know that it was okay to be myself. To fail, even." He paused, and his eyes softened. "I love you, Mother. But you have to let me live my life. Iâm not a perfect image for you to sculpt."
The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken words. You held your breath, waiting for her reaction, unsure of what to expect. You had always imagined her to be unmovable, too set in her ways to ever change.
But then, her expression softened. She took a step toward Riddle, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "I⌠didnât realize. I thought I was protecting you. But I see now that I may have been too harsh, too controlling." She paused, her gaze shifting between you and Riddle. "Youâre right. Both of you. And I am truly sorry."
You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in her voice. This was not the cold, unyielding woman you had expected. There was genuine remorse in her eyes.
She turned to you, her tone softer. "Thank you. For helping him find his way. And for standing by his side."
For a moment, the three of you stood there, the weight of years of tension slowly lifting. It wasnât a perfect resolutionâyears of damage couldnât be erased with one conversationâbut it was a start.You sighed, the anger that had been simmering inside you finally ebbing away. "I only did what anyone who loves him would do," you said, glancing at Riddle with a soft smile.
Riddleâs mother nodded, and though her usual composure was still in place, there was a warmth in her expression that you hadnât seen before. "Then Iâm glad he found someone like you." But you saw her expression crack a little and so did Riddle.
Then, Riddle, ever the perfect son, stepped forward. "Mother, itâs alright." His voice was soft, vulnerable in a way you hadnât often seen. He reached out and offered her something you never expectedâa hug.
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she stepped into his embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around him. It was quiet, emotional, andâbefore you knew itâyou were also pulled into it.
The warmth of the group hug surrounded you, Riddleâs mother surprisingly holding you a little tighter than you expected, as if silently acknowledging the forgiveness Riddle was able to give because of your presence by his side.
She then pulled away, wiped her tears and wiped the tears that you didn't realize were falling from your eyes either. "Congratulations, again, I'm proud of you both" was all she said as she turned to leave.
As she stepped away, leaving you and Riddle alone in the garden, you let out a long breath, feeling a sense of closure you hadnât expected.
Riddle turned to you, his expression soft and full of gratitude. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For standing up for me. For everything."
You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "You donât need to thank me. Weâre in this together, remember?"
He squeezed your hand gently, his usual stoic expression melting away into something softer, more vulnerable. "I know. And I wouldnât have it any other way."
From across the garden, you saw Trey and Che'nya watching, Trey giving a subtle nod of approval, while Che'nya grinned, undoubtedly waiting to pounce with some teasing remark later.
But for now, you just stood there with Riddle, the weight of the day finally settling in. Youâd wonâboth the battle for his heart and the battle for his freedom. And in that moment, everything felt right.
The courtroom was packed, filled with nobles from all across the empire. This was the moment youâd been waiting for, orchestrated with the help of your closest friends: Treyâs calm, methodical planning, Caterâs relentless information gathering, Ace and Deuceâs enthusiasm (and occasional chaos), and, of course, Riddle, who stood by your side, his presence a steady reassurance.
Your sister stood at the center of attention, oblivious to the storm about to hit. For years, she had manipulated and destroyed anyone who dared stand in her way. She thought she was untouchable, the darling of the nobility, admired and respected. But you knew the truth, and so did everyone in this room, thanks to the carefully gathered evidence that was about to expose her for the monster she was.
Cater had planted seeds of the truth you found out that grew into full-fledged whispers about your sisterâs darker deeds. Even now, the tension in the room was palpable as people murmured, casting glances her way.
You stepped forward, the letter you held clutched tightly in your hand. Riddle gave you a small nod of encouragement, his eyes steely as he took his place beside you.
"Ladies and gentlemen," you began, your voice clear and sharp, cutting through the room's murmurs. "I come to you today not with accusations, but with the truth. The truth of the heinous crimes committed by my sister."
There was a gasp from the crowd, the air thick with shock and intrigue. Your sister's face remained calm, but you saw the flicker of worry in her eyes.
"She has embezzled from the kingdomâs treasury, siphoning off funds meant for the empire's welfare," you declared, holding up the documents that Trey had meticulously helped you gather. "She has blackmailed noble families into silence, using threats and false accusations to maintain her hold over them. And worst of allâ"
You paused, letting the tension build as you cast your gaze over the room, making sure every pair of eyes was locked on you. Then, with quiet, deliberate force, you spoke.
"She has been responsible for the poisoning of the emperorâs own cousin, Lady Astoria. A death that was pinned on an innocent maid."
The room exploded into chaos, gasps, and shouts of disbelief filling the air. Your sisterâs face drained of color, her facade finally cracking as people turned toward her, expressions of shock and outrage growing with every second.
"These documents prove every crime," you continued, your voice strong and unwavering as Cater passed around copies of the evidence to the nobles. "She thought she could keep her secrets buried. But not anymore."
"These are lies!" your sister shrieked, her voice desperate as she clutched at the air, trying to regain control. "This is a setup! Youâve all been deceived!"
But it was too late. The emperor himself stood up, his eyes narrowing in fury as he glanced over the evidence. The knight commander beside him was already moving, her sword drawn as the guards approached your sister.
"For your crimes against the empire, you are sentenced to death," the emperor declared, his voice cold and final.
Your sister screamed, fighting as the guards seized her, but there was no escape now. The nobles who once fawned over her turned away in disgust, her power crumbling in mere moments.
Riddleâs hand found yours, his grip tight but comforting as you watched her dragged away. It shouldâve felt sweet, but instead, you felt a strange heaviness settle in your chest. This was the end, wasnât it?
As the execution was carried out in the courtyard, the crowd watching with bated breath, you stood off to the side, Riddle at your side, and your friends close by. Ace whispered some snide comment about how dramatic everything was, and Deuce elbowed him to shut up, but you couldnât bring yourself to laugh.
When it was over, the finality of it hit you like a truck. You had done itâexposed her to the world, avenged not just yourself, but the original villainess too. You expected to feel victorious, but instead, a deep sadness settled in your chest. She should've been the one to see this.
And then, just as you were about to turn away, you saw her.
A faint, ethereal figure stood near the edge of the courtyard. The original villainess. Her eyes were softer than you imagined, her expression free of the bitterness that had fueled her desire for revenge. She looked⌠peaceful.
Tears welled in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were crying, really crying. Ugly, messy sobs that you couldnât control. All the rage, all the sorrow, everything you had carried from her spilled out in that moment.
"I did it," you whispered, barely audible, but you knew she heard you. "I did it for you."
The specter of the original villainess smiled, a soft, almost sisterly expression on her face. And then, in a moment that almost felt too surreal, you felt herâfelt her give you a final ghostly embrace. It was as if the weight of her vengeance had lifted, her spirit no longer bound by the chains of hatred. She was free now, and so were you.
With a final nod, the specter faded into the night, leaving you standing there, tears streaming down your face. You wiped them away as best as you could, sniffling and trying to compose yourself, but the lump in your throat remained.
The warmth of the original villainess's hug lingered long after she faded, her presence now a bittersweet memory. You stood in the quiet, feeling an overwhelming sense of both loss and completion. For the first time, it felt like the weight of both your lives had lifted.
Then, a soft flutter of wings caught your attention. A small dove descended gently, perching on your shoulder. It was so light, so delicate, and for a moment, it just sat there, as if offering comfort. You held your breath, watching it. The dove turned its head toward you, as though it knew. As though she knew.
You blinked, tears pooling in your eyes again as the dove gave a soft coo and flew away, soaring into the sky. Something inside you broke at the sightâsomething that had been held together for too long. The tears came harder now, not out of sorrow, but of release.
"She's freeâŚ" you whispered, your voice trembling. "She's finally free."
Your chest heaved with emotion, sobs you couldnât control spilling out as you watched the dove disappear into the distance. All this time, everything you had done, every struggle, every sacrifice, was for her. And now, it was over.
Riddle turned toward you, concern flickering in his eyes. "Are you alright?"
You nodded, blinking away the last of your tears. "Yeah⌠yeah, I am. Itâs justâ" You paused, looking up at the sky. "My sisterâs gone now. And I think⌠I'm at peace."
Riddle stood beside you, his own heart heavy with the weight of your emotions. Without a word, he reached out, gently pulling you into his arms. His embrace was soft but firm, grounding you when you felt like you might fall apart.
Riddleâs grip on your hand tightened, and when you looked at him, there was something unspoken in his gazeâunderstanding, maybe. "You did what was right," he said softly. "And now itâs over."
You took a deep breath and nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "Yeah. Now itâs over."
With Riddle by your side, and your friends waiting for you just beyond the courtyard, you knew that the hardest part was behind you. You had avenged the original villainess, exposed your sister for what she truly was, and now, finally, you could walk away from all of it.
Riddle leaned closer, his voice gentle but filled with quiet strength. "Come on. Letâs go."
Together, hand in hand, you turned away from the past and walked toward the futureâyour futureâwith the love of your life, your husband, Riddle, by your side.
Boy, was this a ride to write, but i genuinely haven't had this much fun writing before, and it got longer as i went.
For the next Trashy Novel Chronicles, which twst char would you like to see? I have a few plots planned for these, I'll eventually write them both but which one do y'all wanna see first?
Part 1 in the series with Vil: Here
Part 3 in the series with Lilia: Here
Part 4 in the series with Malleus: Here
Part 5 in the series with Azul: Here
Part 6 in the series with Leona: Here
Part 7 in the series with Idia: Here
Part 8 in the series with Jamil: Here
Part 9 in the series with Kalim: Here
My Masterlists
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle x reader#chaotic mc#ace trappola#deuce spade#trey clover#au: nobility#arranged marriages#trash novel chronicles
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