#hand lettering waaah

[magexii]

book covers i designed for the folk of the air series

[hanichani]

hii!! could u do a skz (preferably i.n or ot8) when they have an idol!so and they reveal their relationship??

hi anon!! i tried to make this kind of as realistic as possible but at the same time i feel like jyp would never let this happen so this is what i came up with😭

Pairing: ot8 x gn!idol!reader Genre: fluff, a tiny bit angsty i guess Warnings: none that i could think of, everyone's stressing Word count: 1,3k

i hope you like it <3 (sorry it took so long)

Channie

realistically, i don’t think chan would want to reveal the relationship up until after the peak of their career if ever. i feel like he’s just too tied down by all the responsibilities he has towards the company. but i also think that out of all of the other members he would do the best at consoling you if you ever wanted to go public and he told you no. he would feel so bad but it’s just something he knows he can’t risk. and a big part of why he wouldn’t do it is that he’s afraid you’d receive hate so he’s really just trying to protect you and your career.

if the relationship ever got leaked, boy would have to do so much damage control. even if it’s accepted by everyone and actually somehow boosts your careers and only has good outcomes. mans would be out there writing apology letters like “hi, this is stray kids’ bang chan and i’m so sorry i lied to you all about my relationship.” like it’s not his private business.

Lee know

lee know would throw in little quips and hints during things like skz code and stuff. do you know how he talked about the friend he went to japan with and said he was his boyfriend? he’d do that with you as well. pretend that he’s joking and when they’re all asked about your group he’d say “yea, we hung out once. they’re actually my partner now.” and then do the little :] smile. hannie would obviously throw in a little “what about me?” and then the whole mention about your relationship goes unnoticed. but he would try to slowly get there through hints.

if this relationship ever got leaked, he’d come over that same day with the biggest smile on his face. i feel like he’d genuinely be happy and i think someday, down the line, he’d confirm it on his own by sending a not the most flattering picture of you surrounded with his cats to bubble. for which you’d scold him later. 

Changbin

i feel like changbin would really want to tell EVERYONE. like, he’s so proud to be your boyfriend and he wants to tell the world. but he knows he can’t. he would also just mention you during skz talker and stuff. i think he’d show the camera a video of you doing a dance trend or something and be like “waaah, aren’t they so talented?” meanwhile in his head he’s also adding “and they’re all mine”.

he’s happy as well when the relationship gets leaked. is even happier that it happens around the time of your new comeback because now he can do your dance challenge with you and not feel weird about it. wouldn’t address it but in his next vlog, he tells the staff not to blur you out anymore. (which i know that they don’t really post vlogs anymore BUT BINNIE’S WERE MY FAVORITE AND I MISS THEM OKAY) 

Hyunjin

feel like hyune would be STRESSED when you first bring up the idea of going public. he’d tell you that he’ll think about it but is probably the most open to it. he’d have a meeting about it with the higher ups and you would too but it would be a while before they actually allowed you to do it. 

when it does happen, i think it would just be him posting pictures from a versace event and then the last picture would be the two of you together. your back pressed against his chest, his hand placed over your stomach and your hand reaching back to hold his face while looking at each other. you’d obviously be wearing your versace outfits and the caption would be something like “thank you donatella, me and my y/n enjoyed the event so much”. safe to say stays go crazy and your fandom does as well.

Jisung

i think hannie wouldn’t be comfortable revealing it but we all know boy has a big mouth. i think he’d just leak his own relationship tbh. yk how sometimes he just speaks poems about how he’s so fond of minho? one question asked about you and he’s spilling on air. “ah y/n? yeah, i’ve never met anyone as hard working… well, except for my members. yeah, they’re just so amazing and we match so well, you know. it was honestly like out of a fairytale. i mean, um… like… you know, like the friendship?” and then chan is jumping into the conversation and changing the topic, thank god for his leader. 

he’d be terrified after but you’re there to calm him down. at some point you get asked about it in an interview and you decide to just clear it up. “did you hear what stray kids’ han said about you the other day?” the interviewer asks. “ah yeah. adorable, wasn’t he? i have to say, it really was like out of a fairytale. it might sound corny but we just clicked so well, you know.” you smile and wave into the camera, mouthing a hi baby because you just know that he’s going to watch this interview the moment it comes out. (chan is beyond stressed because of you two)

Felix

lixie would love the idea of going public but he would be too scared of the consequences i think. feel like it would be similar to hyunjin because he would want you at all of his events and at some point the fans start to be like…hmm is it a coincidence that they always appear together at the same events. but obviously that’s not enough to just assume that you’re both dating.

at some point lix accidentally sends the wrong picture to bubble and it’s a picture where you’re cuddled together in bed and you’re kissing his cheek. he meant to send the one of him alone that he took when you went to the bathroom. he’s freaked out but then he just kind of accepts it and is happy because so much pressure has just been taken off his shoulders. the next picture of the two of you that appears on bubble is sent intentionally with a bunch of light blue hearts.

Seungmin

seungmin would absolutely NOT want to reveal the relationship. he has a reputation to uphold as the grumpy one. that’s what he says but really he’s just too scared of the reactions and feedback. he doesn’t mind getting hate, he feels used to that but he doesn’t want you to receive it. he’s also worried that people would put you down for dating him out of everyone else. this leads to you both having a looong conversation where he starts sobbing at some point because he does feel insecure but he never lets himself feel those things unless it’s with you.

this in turn makes him realize that you are very important to him and now he’s even more conflicted. should he tell everyone that you’re his or should he work even harder to protect your relationship. in the end, he decides to let you make the decision. he’s happy with whatever you choose as long as you’re by his side.

Jeongin

i think innie would actually be the one to bring this up with you. after they all get their instagrams, hyunjin gets his piercing and the company lets more loose in general, he feels that it could go through. so he brings it up with jyp and gets the green light (which is not realistic at all but let’s pretend for the sake of this drabble).

i know that innie doesn’t do the ootd posts anymore but i think it would be so cute if he revealed it through that. he would post an ootd post and then on some of the pictures you’re there as well. just a power couple posing together. and then also, some of the more observing fans would notice that hey, isn’t that innie’s shirt that y/n was wearing in their new post. and hey isn’t that the same bag that y/n has in jeongin’s new post? it’d just be really cute because you’d both be so excited about it and flaunting it. 

a/n: requests are open by the way!!!

[otomehoneyybearr]

3rd Birthday Story Sale

Kagari Amagase: A Heart-Throbbing Moment (Gift) For You

Taglist: @candied-boys

On the morning of my birthday—

The first thing I saw upon waking wasn't Kagari's sleeping face or his green eyes, but a single cherry blossom and a letter.

.....

Kagari: "You arrived early, Princess. Were you that eager to see me?"

Emma: "Of course, I wanted to see you as soon as possible, but..."

Kagari: "Why are you looking at me like I'm some bizarre creature?"

Emma: "Because you're tied up, Kagari."

(And cutely tied up with a ribbon, at that.)

The location mentioned in the letter was Kagari’s secret hideout, known only to a select few.

There I found, for some reason, Kagari with his wrists bound together, filling my mind with all sorts of questions.

Kagari: "Gifts come with ribbons, don't they?"

Emma: "So, does that mean...?"

Kagari: "Rejoice. Your first birthday present is me."

(I’d imagined doing something like this with Kagari, but I never thought it would actually happen!)

I was so surprised that I was speechless.

But my gradually warming cheeks were proof of how genuinely happy I was.

(If he's the present, that means I get to spend the whole day with him.)

The thought of having the person I love by my side on my birthday—Well, there’s no way I wouldn’t be overjoyed.

Emma: "Thank you. I'm really, truly happy!"

Kagari: "Then untie the ribbon quickly. Otherwise, this gift might run away, it has legs, you know."

Emma: "I'll untie it right away, so please don't run away."

I hurriedly grabbed the end of the ribbon and pulled, and it easily came undone.

As soon as he was freed, he hugged me tightly, burying his face in my neck.

(This is the first time I've received such a cuddly gift.)

It was ticklish and endearing, so I hugged him back.

Kagari: "Princess, are you satisfied already? There are more presents. In fact, the next one is the main gift."

(Can there even be a present better than Kagari in this world?)

Kagari: "Take this."

(A notebook...?)

It was a small, palm-sized rectangular notebook with a picture of a sleeping cat on the cover.

(It’s a drawing made by Kagari. Haha, how cute.)

(If this is the main present, maybe there's something written inside.)

With growing anticipation, I opened the cover. Inside was...

Emma: "A coupon to eat dorayaki together?"

Kagari: "If you give me any of those coupons, I'll grant the wish written on it."

Emma: "What a tempting present. Are you sure I can really have this?"

Kagari: "I made it for you. If you don't take it, it'll just turn to ashes."

Emma: "Thank you, I'll take it!"

I carefully turned each page to see what other coupons were there.

A date while holding hands coupon, a dressing-up coupon, a birthday cake coupon, a birthday song coupon, a kiss coupon, a hug coupon...

Seeing the cuteness of the contents written in Kagari’s slightly scrawled handwriting made me smile.

(A hug while kissing, kissing on his lap, a hug from the front, a hug from the back, a hug from the side... So many variations.)

(It's so like him to have so many kiss and hug coupons. His desires are quite clear.)

I tried giving Kagari a kiss coupon.

Emma: "Mm..."

Kagari: "You really like kisses, don’t you, Princess? So do I."

His kiss was swift and took my breath away, making my cheeks hot as he slightly lifted the corner of his mouth.

(Giving him a coupon is basically saying, "I want this"...)

(This might be a present that tests my heart as well.)

Still, it didn't change how happy I was.

(Which coupon should I use next... Oh, this one looks good.)

Kagari: "The dressing-up coupon, huh."

Emma: "I thought it would be best to use this one first. I can't imagine what it entails, so I'm looking forward to it."

(Will it be a birthday sash, a hat shaped like a cake, or maybe glasses?)

As I eagerly anticipated, Kagari suddenly wrapped his arms around my back, hugging me.

Emma: "Waaah! Why am I being undressed!?"

Kagari: "Because I'm going to dress you up."

Without any room for argument, he quickly stripped off my clothes, leaving me in my underwear.

Embarrassed, I moved behind Kagari to escape his gaze.

Emma: "I can put on clothes by myself, you know?"

Kagari: "If you refuse, you'll spend your birthday in your underwear. Not that I'd mind."

Kagari: "Besides, I’m better at dressing you than you are."

Emma: "Dressing me… Oh."

Kagari took something wrapped in a cloth from the closet and placed it on the floor

When he untied it, an elegant kimono in a soft gray plum color appeared.

(Wow… It’s beautiful.)

The various flower patterns primarily in shades of red were both vibrant and softly understated, exuding a subtle sweetness.

Kagari: "A birthday comes only once a year. I wanted your outfit to feel special too."

Kagari: "You always cherish things tied to memories, after all."

(Kagari thought this through so much.)

Emma: "...It’s so beautiful, it makes me hesitate to wear it. It captivated me instantly.”

Kagari: "I'm well aware of your tastes, so this reaction was expected."

Kagari: "But seeing you actually happy makes me even more pleased than I anticipated."

Though his expression was hard to read, the air around him seemed a bit gentler.

Suppressing my embarrassment, I moved into Kagari's line of sight.

Emma: "Could you please help me dress?"

Kagari: "Of course, I'll make you look adorable. Just wait and see."

True to his word, Kagari tied the obi in a rose knot and braided my hair to match.

I couldn't stop looking in the mirror, so delighted by how cute he made me look.

(Even though I’m already overwhelmed with joy, I still have many coupons left...)

Emma: “Eek!”

Kagari gave a playful bite to my neck and looked at me with a slightly sulky expression.

Kagari: "Hurry up and give me the next coupon. Let me celebrate you more."

Emma: "Sorry, I was just so happy with how you dressed me."

Emma: "Then, next... I'll use this coupon!"

Kagari: "A birthday cake coupon and a birthday song coupon. Wait here."

Emma: "Okay."

(Since it's Kagari, it might be a gigantic dorayaki or a stack of them reaching the ceiling.)

However, when Kagari returned to the room, what he was holding was undeniably a birthday cake.

Emma: "A rose cake! I love it."

It's the classic birthday cake in Rhodolite, topped with fruit and rose-shaped sugar decorations. The difference was the little cherry blossom sugar decoration placed next to the rose.

Setting the birthday cake down on the table, Kagari and I sat on the floor facing each other.

Emma: "The rose and cherry blossom are so cute together. Well, let’s dig in..."

Kagari: "Wait, little glutton. We haven't sung the song yet."

Emma: "Oh, right. It looked so delicious that I almost forgot..."

I quickly pulled my hand back from reaching for the cake and placed it on my lap.

After subtly clearing his throat, Kagari began to sing the birthday song I knew so well from childhood.

He slightly nodded his head to the rhythm, and I clapped my hands in time with him.

(His pitch is off, but he probably practiced a lot for today.)

This was evident from the song and his serious expression, and it was so endearing that I couldn't help but smile.

Kagari: "Happy birthday, Princess. Now, open your mouth."

Emma: "Aah... mmm, it's delicious. And it tastes nostalgic."

Kagari: "What a lovely smile. You're so cute I want to shower you with affection right now."

Kagari: "Ready for the second bite?"

Emma: "Yes, I am."

I took a larger bite of the cake than before, and the sweetness of the rose and cream spread throughout my mouth, soothing me.

After that, I kept eating each piece he offered, and fed him in return, and the cake quickly disappeared.

(Ah, that was delicious...)

Kagari: "..."

(Kagari's gaze hasn't left me for a while now. Is he waiting for the next coupon or something...?)

(Now that I think about it, he usually takes every opportunity to kiss or lean on my shoulder, but today he hasn't.)

I suddenly noticed the coupons placed beside me.

(Oh, that's why...)

Kagari: “….!”

I picked up the "Kissing on His Lap" coupon and handed it to him.

Kagari approached me happily, like a cat with its tail raised, and lifted me onto his lap.

A soft kiss landed on my lips, and he narrowed his eyes at a distance close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Then, he nuzzled my neck playfully with his nose, making me unconsciously let out a soft sigh.

(Seeing Kagari so happy makes me want to use these coupons more often, even though I'll be sad when they run out.)

After that, I used the coupons as I pleased.

We held hands and went out to the town, he fed me dorayaki, we stole kisses away from prying eyes, and spent an incredibly sweet time together that could only be described as over-the-top romantic...

Before I knew it, the sky had turned a deep blue.

(There was a mysterious special coupon that turned out to be for viewing the night cherry blossoms.)

Sitting side by side on our usual spot on the tree branch, Kagari and I gazed at the enchanting, almost otherworldly cherry blossoms, which looked different from how they did during the day.

(Ah...)

As I instinctively reached out to catch a falling petal, Kagari's hand extended from the side and caught it first.

Kagari: "You really like this game, don't you?"

Emma: "I just can't help it."

I carefully took the offered petal and pressed it between my handkerchief.

Emma: "This is the first time I've received so many presents on my birthday."

Kagari: "Hearing that makes me happy too. I want to be your first in everything."

Kagari: "But look forward to next year's birthday as well. I promise to prepare an even grander celebration than this year."

Emma: "What..."

Kagari: "What's with that reaction? Ah, I see. This year alone was enough for you."

Emma: "That's not true! I'm looking forward to next year too."

Kagari: "That's right, be greedy, Princess."

Kagari: "Next time, I'll make the birthday cake all by myself... I swear it."

(Does that mean he had intended to make it by himself this this time?)

(…Next year, huh.)

(Before we became lovers, he’d never say anything like ‘See you next time’, no matter how many times we met.)

(But things are different now. He’s promised a future.)

(…It feels like I've received another present.)

I put the handkerchief in my pocket and took out the remaining coupons.

There were only a few left, most of them being kiss and hug coupons.

(It’s okay to be a bit greedier, right...?)

Emma: "Kagari, could you fulfill all the remaining tickets?"

Kagari: "I'll grant any wish of yours."

Kagari: "Besides, I haven't had enough of you yet."

Our lips met, and we passionately conveyed our happiness to each other with intertwined tongues. With every kiss, his emerald eyes gleamed with a fierce heat, and just being stared at made my core tingle with a sweet ache.

Kagari: “Did I get a perfect score for celebrating your birthday?”

Emma: “Yes. It was worth 100 perfect scores.”

Emma: “Thank you for such a wonderful birthday, Kagari.”

Kagari: “Then let me say this too.”

Kagari: “Thank you for letting me have you all to myself on your birthday.”

(At first, I thought he was happy just because I used the coupons...)

(But perhaps even more than that, he was happy to be wanted and given attention.)

Thinking that only made my love for him grow…

(For me, Kagari’s happiness is the greatest gift of all.)

This time, I initiated the kiss, and we spent a blissful time together until the date changed.

▼・ᴥ・▼

[chestcongestion]

Losing Your Grippe- Ch.4: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

This was way longer of a chapter than I was originally expecting, but I am ultimately very satisfied with how it turned out, I sincerely believe and hope it was worth the wait!

Fic is under the cut as always, I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 9,275

Content Warnings: Contagion, Current events-adjacent disease testing (mentions of rapid tests and antigens and whatnot)

  On the other side of Pentagram City, Angel Dust was reclining in a chair while waiting for his turn on set. 

Valentino had come up with a brilliant idea for a porn where two security guards fuck a jewel thief as punishment for breaking into the museum they work for, but there had been a few setbacks during filming. The usual cinematographers were out sick, and the two burly actors playing the security guards would have been out, but there was no one their size on the employee roster left to replace them. 

“Hn’KtShoo! Mm… I’m sorry, I think I’m holding the wrong script… I’m ‘Guard One’ and you’re ‘Guard Two’,” Axel, a rhinoceros demon with a spike collar neck tattoo and industrial piercings in his ears, said. 

“Shiiit dude, you’re right, we’ve been memorizing the wrong scripts- HDd’TsShihh! HhdD’Tshhhuh!” Hummer, a muscular barracuda demon with translucent neck and back fins, said as he struggled to stay on his own two feet, his nose trickling down his face, in spite of constant sniffling to avoid such a fate.

“Idiots! Pull yourselves together, I don’t understand why you’re both bumbling around when we’re on a schedule… god, for nerds I recycled from Voxxy’s staff, you two are idiots,” Valentino grumbled, folding his arms in between fits of furiously slapping at his copy of the script. 

“I feel hot,” Axel complained, fanning himself off with the script. 

“I feel cold… H-HhDd’TSHhuhh! Hnk’Tschhuh!” Hummer said, followed by a heavy sniffle as he rubbed his upper arms in an attempt to warm his damp skin. 

“Waaah waah waah, excuses excuses, I’m freezing my ass off but you don’t hear me complaining about anything but your piss poor performance!” Valentino shouted into his cupped hands, turning to cough into his fuzzy sleeve after raising his voice irritated his throat, “kHHF! KHFF!” 

“Val… I-ihh…Ih’PsShuu! Ih’PSshuu!- stop shouting… my head hurts,” Velvette complained from her small platform of blankets and cushions next to Valentino’s chair. Her bedroom was being fumigated after a cleaner found two nests of hornets under the floorboards, and because she was too exhausted and feverish to be left alone, Valentino was charged with keeping an eye on her while he worked.  Velvette’s hair was pinned up in a loose ponytail of dense curls, a few flyaways and stray hairs poking out of the style and sweat trickling down from her hairline as she shivered in her fleece button-up pajamas patterned with hearts and swirls. 

“I’m so sorry, pequeñita…I-Ihh’PTsShhEW!- euch- I’ll try to keep it down,” Valentino replied, his voice slightly rough as he took a swig of his cosmopolitan, coughing harshly into his fist after the alcohol stung his raw throat, “Hurry it up and try agai-ihh… IiH’PTSshhhEW! Ih’PTsShhiiiew!” 

Axel and Hummer got back into position and attempted to run through the scene again, Axel grimacing as his joints ached intensely every time he took a step or bent down to grab something. 

“I just checked the… snff!- the perimeter a’d the… SnFFF! Snff!- the back door is ope’d… Hh’hnkk-TsSchoo!” Axel read, his nose beginning to drip until his sniffles became snorts, “SnRK-snrk!- fuck- Did you check the camberas for the back door to see if a’dyode- Snrk!-” 

Before Axel could finish his line, the first line in the entire script, he was interrupted by Valentino throwing a box of tissues at the side of his head.  

“Oww!” 

“If I wanted a bumbling idiot who couldn’t enunciate the letters ‘m’ and ‘n’, I promise there’s meatheads way hotter than you who I could’ve paid a lot less, say your lines right, idiot!” Valentino hissed, squeaking indignantly as his antennae twitched before turning to cough into his fist. 

“Mby ndose is stuffed up- SnRkk!- I ca’d barely breathe,” Axel argued, wilting a bit from exhaustion as a trickle of mess threatened to run down his face before he wiped at it with a balled-up tissue.  

“Hurry up and blow your nose or I’ll punch you in that hunk of ivory in the middle of your face and unstuff it myself!”  

“Val, please,” Velvette groaned, grabbing her pillow and using it to cover her head, whimpering in pain before letting out an aggressive, hacking cough, “Oh for fuck’s sake- KHFFF KOFF khff khhuff!- I need to- KHFFF kHFFF!- take some more cough syrup.” 

“You’ve already had a dose three times, Velvette, you need to save the last  two doses for tonight, you can’t have anymore,” Valentino said, quietly taking the bottle of raspberry-flavored cough syrup out of Velvette’s hands and stowing it away in his pocket, only for the fashion designer to start clawing at his coat in retaliation, “Ow- OW! Velvette, cut it out!” 

“You’re being a prick, give it to me,” Velvette hissed, weakly throwing a punch at Val’s leg only to wilt back into her small nest of quilts, “I… I need it.” 

Exhausted and covered in febrile sweat, Velvette shivered and wrapped herself in a throw blanket, glancing back up at Valentino with a pitiful look in her eyes.  

“You can have some more cough syrup later, I promise… KHhf-khff!” Val promised, moving a piece of Velvette’s sweat-dampened hair out of her face, even as his own eyelids began to droop. 

In the middle of watching all of the chaos during the shoot, Angel felt someone tugging on his sleeve, and turned to see Papermint- Vox’s assistant- standing sheepishly next to him while holding a small vial and a long swab. 

“What’sa matter wit’ you? Whadda you want?” Angel asked, having grown slightly irritable throughout the day due to a mixture of the commotion and a slight headache that seemed to develop out of nowhere. 

“Mr. Angel Dust, I need you to open your mouth,” Papermint muttered, shuffling in place in an attempt to shove down any visible nervousness. 

Angel scoffed, “Oh dat’s rich, for a shrimp like you it’s 50 bucks to see my tongue, 100 for the uvula, and 200 more if ya want me to do anythin’ else while my mouth’s open.” 

Papermint chuckled, adjusting his glasses with the hand that wasn’t holding the swab, “No, no- uhm… because Ms. Velvette was diagnosed with the flu yesterday, company policy dictates that all VoxTech associates undergo diagnostic testing for at least a week as a precaution,” he said, “I have to swab your tongue and the back of your throat, and you should get your results via SMS message in a few hours.” 

Angel sighed, shrugging his shoulders and turning to face Papermint properly, “Alright, if it’s policy I guess I gotta do it anyways,” he said, gently massaging his temple with one hand, grimacing at the dull throbbing pain beneath his skull. 

“Excellent!” Papermint cheered, gently holding the swab in front of Angel’s mouth, “Say ‘Aaah’.” 

“Aaaaah,” Angel droned, his voice straining a bit as Papermint swabbed along his tongue, underneath his tongue, and at the back of his throat. 

“I’m impressed, most people I’ve had to swab have gagged and choked even when I’m only swabbing further back on their tongue,” Papermint said with a warm smile, only to shudder upon realizing who he was speaking to, “Oh… ohhh.” 

“There we go, glad ya figured that one out on yer own,” Angel said with a smirk, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water from the bottle next to his chair, “How’d I do, shrimp? My throat look nice and pretty?” 

Papermint chewed on his tongue, flushing slightly as Angel batted his eyelashes and winked playfully at him, “A-about as attractive as an individual’s internal cavities can look, Mr. Angel Dust!” he said. 

Angel giggled, “Good answer,” he said, gently cupping Papermint’s cheek in his hand and giving it a few flirtatious taps, “Alright, now get lost, I gotta get ready for my cue if they ever get past the first two lines.” 

“Y-yes, of course, thank you for your cooperation with the testing! I’ll leave a few rapid testing kits near your chair for you to take home, enjoy the rest of the shoot!” Papermint said with a wave. 

Angel waved back, turning to look back at the set and wincing once the shouting and throwing of chairs aggravated his slowly-building headache, “U ugh, I’m gonna be sittin’ in this chair forever,” he groaned, tugging at his eyelids. 

“It cannot be that difficult to get your lines right, we haven’t gotten past the first page of this goddamn script and it’s been two hours!” Valentino screamed, throwing his copy of the script at Axel as his eye twitched. 

“Ow!” Axel whined, rubbing his head after the script made impact. 

“Fuck off! Do better or I’ll… I’ll… i-Ihh… hhh! Hihh-!” Valentino began, scrubbing at the center of his face and sniffling, “Ihh-” 

“HnK’TSHOOO!” Axel sneezed. 

“i-IHH’PshHhue!” then Velvette. 

“I-IhH’PsSHHHiIEW!” then Valentino. 

A flicker of blue static appeared in the center of the studio before Vox took its place, clasping his hands together, his back panel open and an unamused look on his face. 

“Alright, I have seen enough,” Vox sighed, “Shoot’s canceled, we’re done here.” 

Vox turned to address the actors and crew that were still on set, “Filming is postponed until further notice, all of you are free to go home, building staff will hand you a week’s worth of rapid testing kits on your way out, but you are free to leave,” he said. 

A majority of the cinematographers and audio technicians put their equipment away before hurrying out of the studio, eager to enjoy their time off. 

Vox approached Valentino’s chair, gently planting a kiss on the back of his neck and pressing a cool metallic hand against his forehead, “They’re all going home, you are coming with me to get swab tested,” he said, his voice soft as he gently wiped the sweat from Valentino’s face and turned to address Velvette, “and you are going straight to bed.” 

 “I don’t want to go to bed,” Velvette pouted, leaning against Vox’s side after he pulled her to her feet, struggling to stand up straight, “M-my room’s still full of hornetss.” 

“Not your bed, Vel, our bed,” Vox chuckled, hoisting Velvette into his arms and rubbing the hot skin on her neck and shoulder with a cool hand. 

“Oh… alright then,” Velvette sighed, pressing her face against Vox’s chest as he carried her, quietly fading in and out of consciousness as Vox walked through the halls, into the elevator, and back up to their penthouse at the top of the tower. 

Upon finally registering her new surroundings, Velvette yawned and whimpered in frustration when Vox peeled her away from him and set her down in his and Valentino’s shared bed, covering her shivering form with a blanket. 

“Noooo- Khhf khff!- come back, don’t leave me in here,” Velvette whined, tugging on Vox’s sleeve and staring up at him with shimmering eyes. 

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I’m just going into the bathroom with Val, I’ll be right out,” Vox said, gently twirling a lock of Velvette’s hair around his finger before letting go and walking a few paces into the master bathroom, where Valentino was leaning against the sink and grimacing at the swab for the rapid flu test. 

“Papi, where do I stick it?” Valentino asked, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them off with a paper towel before pushing them back onto his face, “I-Ihh’PTsSChhiiew!” 

“Peel the plastic off and then swab the top and sides of your tongue and the back of your throat,” Vox explained. 

“How far back?” 

“This is a swab test, not a blowjob, right around your tonsils is fine,” 

“What the fuck are tonsils? Khhfff-KHFF!” 

“The fleshy round things in the back of your throat that swell up when you get sick,” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Vox rolled his eyes, swiping around on his screen and pulling up his ‘Internals Close Up’ app that allowed Papermint and his technicians to get a better look at his throat using two cameras attached to the roof of his mouth, “Okay, see where the uvula is?” he asked. 

Valentino squinted at the screen before nodding. 

“Look behind it, see those two things poking out behind my tongue?” 

“Mhm,” 

“Those are my tonsils, everyone has them,” 

“That’s trippy,” Valentino said, prying his mouth open wide with his fingers before swabbing his tongue and throat, moaning in satisfaction upon swabbing around his newly-discovered tonsils, “Nghgkk, Koff-khfff!” 

Vox winced, “You alright?” 

Valentino removed the swab, drooling a bit as he took his fingers out of his mouth, flashing a slightly loopy smile, “M mm that felt good, it’s like getting your back scratched but in your mouth,” he sighed, “I wanna do it again, my throat itches so bad.” 

Vox looked down at Valentino’s crotch and rolled his eyes, “Val, for the love of God, it shouldn’t be that easy to get you hard,” he said, looking away and placing the swab inside of a tube of fluid, shaking it up before smearing the wet swab onto the testing strip. 

“It’s not my fault that my dick responds whenever I feel good, Voxxy, don’t be a prude… I-Ihh’PtSchhiEW!” Valentino replied, his flirtatious tone fading after his sneeze, the feeling of the cold bathroom floor against his feet making him shiver.  

Vox squinted at the testing strip, watching as the paper turned blue before quickly turning red, “Yup, positive, you’ve got the flu… how do you feel?” he asked, watching Valentino bracing himself against the water tank of the toilet. 

“Uhmm… not too bad,” Val responded, cleaning off his glasses, with his sleeve, “Just a little tired… and cold… really cold.” 

Vox turned on the hot water faucet of the master bathroom’s tub, switching on the shower and letting it run until steam began to fill the room, “Take a hot shower, I’ll get your pajamas,” he instructed, closing the bathroom door and walking back into the master bedroom of the penthouse, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a pair of yellow silk pajamas covered in purple hearts, the only set of pajamas Valentino owned that covered his chest, stomach, and more than 50% of his legs. 

“Did I- Khff!- get Val sick?” Velvette asked weakly, curled up in her blanket in the middle of the massive bed, “‘M sorry… I-ihh’Pshhuu!... didn’t think I was getting sick, now we’re gonna… KHff-khff-khff!- miss the summit.” 

“The summit’s being pushed back, apparently everyone and their dog is sick at the moment, so there’d be no one in attendance, we’ll all be able to go when you’re feeling better,” Vox said reassuringly, pressing a hand to Velvette’s forehead, “103.” 

“I feel absolutely horrid,” Velvette complained, tears in her eyes, “My head hurts, my back hurts, my throat hurts… I’d rather be on my fucking period.”  

Vox winced, “You must really be miserable if that’s the case… want some medicine?” he asked. 

Velvette shook her head, “Had too much already… can I have some tea? I’m thirsty,” she pleaded, her voice hoarse and cracking before she turned back towards her pillow to cough. 

Vox gently motioned toward Velvette’s large metal cup, magically filling it three quarters of the way with hot liquid, and handing it over to Velvette, who eagerly took a sip. 

“Nghh, it tastes different,” she croaked, “kHFff-Khff!” 

“It’s peppermint, figured it might help your muscles and joints,” Vox said, stroking Velvette’s back as she coughed in between sips, “There we go, does that feel better?” 

“Mhm,” Velvette replied, setting her cup down on the nightstand and curling back up into her blanket, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm, “snff-snff! ‘S good… making my ndose run, though.” 

Vox plucked two tissues out of the box on the nightstand, gently holding them up to Velvette’s face and stroking her scalp as she emptied her sinuses into them until both tissues were thoroughly soaked, “Think you’ll be alright?” he asked. 

Velvette nodded weakly, rubbing her eyes again as she settled against her pillow with a scratchy yawn, “I think so,” she mumbled, “Do mby eyes look puffy?” 

Vox briefly glanced at Velvette’s eyelids, noticing that they seemed normal and inflammation-free, just accompanied by slight dark circles due to Velvette’s lack of restful sleep, “Not puffy at all, you just look tired… but that’s fine, you are tired,” he said with a smile. 

“So tired,” Velvette replied. 

THUMP!

Vox perked up, turning to look at the bathroom door and silently fretting about the possibility of Valentino falling, “I’ll be right back Vel,” he said hurriedly, walking into the bathroom and peeking behind the shower curtain. 

Unfortunately, Vox’s worst suspicions were confirmed, and Valentino was sprawled out on his back in the bathtub, being pelted with comfortably warm water against his unbearably hot and flushed skin. Unable to hoist himself back up, the pornographer simply moaned in pain, staring at his beloved partner with glassy eyes. 

“Val, what happened? Did you hurt yourself?” Vox asked, tugging anxiously on the wires in his neck and ignoring the sparks that flew as a result. 

“Shhh shhh, it’s fine,” Valentino said, his voice hushed and soft as he struggled to his feet with Vox’s help, his legs shaking, “Just got really dizzy all of a sudden, then out of nowhere my legs gave out… I feel a lot worse now, is that s’posed to happen?” 

“Yes, it usually gets worse on an exponential curve and hits pretty fast,” Vox sighed, pressing his palm against Val’s forehead, “102…2.4… 2.6… 2.8… 103… 3.2… 3.5.” 

“I feel hot,” Valentino complained hoarsely as he leaned against Vox for support, “Khh-KHFF! Khfff!” 

Unable to muster up the energy to hold his hand to his mouth, Valentino’s harsh and raspy cough was released into the open air, with particles quickly hitting the sensitive wires and circuit boards that were tucked away in Vox’s back panel- which was still hanging wide open haphazardly. 

Vox was so focused on looking after Valentino that he didn’t even feel the moisture brushing up against his delicate circuitry, and instead just patted Valentino on the back after he coughed, “It’s okay, once you put your pajamas on I’ll bring you a glass of water,” he said. 

“Mkay,” Val replied, sniffling as he slowly struggled to pull on his pajama pants and the accompanying shirt, sighing in relief once he finally finished, before staggering over to the bed and collapsing against the comforter, curling up next to Velvette and smiling at her, “Hola pequeñita.” 

“Hiii,” Velvette greeted weakly before turning away to scrub aggressively at her face in an attempt to fend off a pending itch, “I’m so sorry I got you sick… Iihh’Pshhuue! Ih’psshhuu!” 

“It’s fine… I don’t blame you- snff!- I’m just exhausted,” Valentino mumbled as his eyelids began to droop. 

“Me too,” Velvette agreed, rubbing her eyes. 

The two struggled to entertain one another and keep the other awake by exchanging goofy faces and long stares while Vox was out of the room getting a glass of ice cold water, but eventually their efforts failed, and Velvette fell asleep with Valentino following right behind her. The two snored peacefully outside of the occasional raspy cough, and Valentino unconsciously inched closer to Velvette as the two slept, the two patients caught in a half-hug of sorts.  

A few minutes later, Vox returned to the master bedroom with a glass of water, only to find his life partner and their closest friend fast asleep, their chests rising and falling. 

“Well, sleeping is good, hopefully they’ll feel a little better,” Vox whispered, turning out the lights in the master bedroom and carefully draping a blanket over Valentino’s unconscious form before turning on his heels and leaving to go get some work done in his office. 

On the walk to his personal workspace in the penthouse, Vox was suddenly stopped in his tracks by his frenzied assistant, who was hurriedly tapping through various screens on his touch-screen laptop, “What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sir, I just got a notification from your technician, there’s been a breech,” Papermint explained, showing Vox his laptop that was littered with warning messages and system alerts. 

Vox blinked, suddenly feeling the draft blowing onto his circuits and wires, “Ohhh, that’s just because my back panel is still open, I got sidetracked and forgot to close it,” he chuckled, closing the panel on his head and smiling triumphantly, “There- snff!- problem solved.” 

Papermint adjusted his glasses and scrolled through the message log, only to wince and yelp upon receiving more warning messages, “Uhmmm, it seems that the problem hasn’t been solved, Sir, your system is still reporting a breech, there’s foreign body activity near your processor and your air filtration system is about to malfunction…” he said, biting his lip nervously. 

“Nonsense, I probably just need my sensors adjusted, my air filtration system is fine- Hhn’Kk! Hhnkk! Kxhht!” Vox replied, only to be stunned by his sudden sneeze, a fine spray misting out of the sides of his head from his stuttering air circulation system. Vox sniffled, tapping the side of his head in an attempt to knock non-existent dust loose, “Wh-what else do the system alerts say?” he asked. 

“Organic material has leaked into your system and your software is having a pseudo-immunological response,” Papermint said, rambling as he fumbled with his notification wall and smoothed out his hair. 

“Layman’s terms please, Papermint, I don’t have time to decipher your jargon, I’m getting a headache,” Vox complained, massaging the corners of his screen as his interface glitched and his fans malfunctioned again, “Kxhht! KXHHT! Hhn’kk!” 

“You have the flu,” Papermint said nervously. 

Vox’s eye twitched, “Oh for pete’s sake… khff!- I can’t be sick, all three of us can’t be sick,” he groaned, “What am I gonna do?” 

“I received some experimental immune defense spray from Sloth Pharmaceuticals the other day, and all my swab tests have come back negative, Sir, I could help look after you if need be,” Papermint offered with an eager smile. 

Vox sighed, “Thank goodness for the clowns at Sloth Pharma… Hhn’Kk! KzZXHHT!” he said, wiping up the coolant that was beginning to leak from his air filter with a tissue, “Euch… snff!” 

“Why don’t you put on something comfortable and join Mr. Valentino and Miss Velvette in bed?” Papermint suggested. 

Vox opened his mouth to object, only to realize that he’d rather be relaxing in bed than sifting through licensing agreements, and shrugged, turning on his heels and heading back to the master bedroom, his exhaust fans stuttering and making him cough as they clashed against one another and his liquid coolant system. 

Papermint smiled contentedly, dusting off his hands and heading over to the penthouse’s small laundry room to hunt for the warm mist humidifier and a can of pressurized air to clean out Vox’s air filters. “This will be nice,” he mumbled enthusiastically to himself, beginning to sort through various devices in search of what he needed. 

About forty-five minutes later, back at the hotel, Angel sauntered in through the front doors and walked over to the parlor-turned-quarantine space, leaning over the arm of the sofa to massage the space between Husk’s ears, “I’m back from the fuck factory,” he greeted, kissing Husk’s cheek. 

“You’re back early- Khfff khff! KHFF khff!- fuck,” Husk observed, rubbing his neck and chest and grumbling in pain after his harsh, throaty cough. 

“Eh, Val’s sick so I’ve got the week off, fine by me, I was supposed to do a two-on-one in a contortion pose for ‘dis stupid flick, I’m happy I get to put it off long enough for Val to hopefully forget about it,” Angel said, sighing as he handed Husk his glass of water from the coffee table, rubbing his back as he took eager gulps before setting the empty glass down.

“Happy for you, I can’t even touch my toes, couldn’t imagine takin’ it up the ass with my legs behind my head,” Husk said, chuckling until a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him and he reclined against his pillows, covering his eyes with his palms as he tried to compose himself, “Sorry… room started spinning.” 

Angel inched closer to Husk’s level of the makeshift sofa-bed, kneeling down and resting a cautious hand on Husk’s forehead, “Marone, your brain’s gonna melt and start leakin’ outta your ears,” he said, frowning in disapproval before kissing Husk’s cheek, “How ya feelin’?” 

Husk swallowed, adjusting under his blanket and scrubbing under his nose to stave off a damp sniffle, “Like death,” he grumbled, losing the fight against a violent shiver that radiated up his spine, “I’m so cold.” 

Angel leaned over, wrapping Husk in a tight hug and nuzzling up against the crook of his neck and his shoulder, “My poor baby,” he crooned, kissing Husk’s neck, “This make ya feel any warmer?” 

Husk’s body was wracked by another violent shiver, and he continued to tremble before shaking his head as his vision began to blur and warp, forcing him to brace himself against the arm of the sofa, “Fuck… I can’t see straight… ‘m gonna lie down again,” he said, gently pushing away from Angel and curling back up into his blankets, his sharp teeth chattering, “Khhhhfff- khff khff!” 

Angel pinched the center of his face, gently massaging the skin as pain continued to build behind his eyes, “Goddamnit,” he groaned, hoisting himself to his feet and rummaging through the cleavage separating his chest fluff before pulling out his phone, scrolling through his text messages, “My head’s killin’ me.” 

“E-ehh’PssSCHEW! Eh’PsSCHHEW!” 

Angel turned, seeing Lucifer reclined on the loveseat, noisily blowing his ‘nose’ after his wet sneeze, “You too, huh?” he asked, smirking at Lucifer’s fuzzy socks peeking out from the other end of the blanket. 

“Mm- SnFF!- mmhmm,” Lucifer replied, rubbing at his eyes before tossing his soggy tissue in the trash can next to the loveseat, “I feel awful.” 

“Well, I’m gonna go talk to Vags before I hop in the shower, need anythin’?” 

Lucifer released another pitiful sniffle, “Another glass of apple juice?” he requested, taking another swipe at his tired eyes. 

“You got it,” Angel said, shooting Lucifer a thumbs up before walking out of the parlor and into the kitchen, where Vaggie was chopping vegetables and humming to herself while Niffty- visibly bored- peeled shrimp while sitting on the kitchen island, separating the viable meat and the veins and shells into two separate bowls. 

“You’re back early,” Vaggie remarked, not even looking up from the carrot she was slicing. 

“Yup, shoot got canceled before I even had to read any lines,” Angel said with a snicker, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of apple juice, pouring it into a glass with a couple of ice cubes. Upon filling up Lucifer’s cup, Angel gently shook the bottle of apple juice, looking skeptical, “I coulda sworn this bottle was full this mornin’.” 

“Lucifer and Charlie both basically refuse to eat, so they’ve been chugging it, I’ll have to get more bottles delivered when I order groceries tonight,” Vaggie replied, “Have you seen Alastor?” 

“Nah, ain’t seen hear or tail of ‘im,” Angel said with a shrug, “Gotta go bring King Pipsqueak his juice, I’ll be back.” 

Vaggie waved at Angel as he vanished back into the parlor, when she began to hear the hissing sound of static in her ears, turning around and focusing to try and decipher where the sound was coming from. 

“Hzzhht! Hxhht! HxXhht!” 

Vaggie narrowed her eyelids, waiting patiently and counting in her head as the noise continued, until suddenly it changed. 

“HxXHhht-Shhiew! Hnk’Kzxhht-Chew! HnXxhhT’Shhew! ‘Shhhiew! ‘SHHIEW! ‘Chhiew!”  

A-ha! 

“Alastor, get out of the pantry, I know you’re in there,” Vaggie ordered, watching with a smirk as Alastor slowly stepped out of the walk-in pantry, clutching his handkerchief to his nose and attempting to wipe at his watery eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Snff-snff! You kndow- snff!- I would have cobe out eventually- Hnx’xXHt-CHEW! HnxXHhtiew! ‘Chhiew! ‘Shhew!” Alastor said, blowing his nose and fanning off the red, irritated skin with his free hand. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, only for her exasperation to screech to a halt upon hearing Alastor’s audible congestion and constant sneezing, “You okay?” she asked.

Alastor roughly cleared his throat, wiping desperately at his nose in an attempt to stop the near constant dripping, “Sindce I ndo longer have the privilege of bei’g discreet with mby… issues, I’b goi’g to be hondest- Snrkk!- a’d say ndo,” he said, his eyes twitching as he felt another sneeze building in his sinuses, “hHihh! H-hihh!! Hhh! HnkXxh’tSHEW! HxXhht-Shew! Hnk’Kxhht-chew!” 

“A shocking but pleasant surprise… I’m not proud of you for being vulnerable, I just like watching you suffer,” Vaggie scoffed, smirking at Alastor and feeling a swell of pride when he opened his mouth to snarl at her, only to sneeze instead. 

“Uch… I’ve been milli’g about with plague urchins for far too long, and their opportunistic pathogens have got mbe right where they want mbe,” Alastor grumbled, “Hih’KxXHHT-cHHIEW! Hih’Kxhhttiew! Hnk’KxzZHt-Shew!” 

Niffty giggled, climbing onto Alastor’s shoulder and poking his nose. 

“Hh’Xxhht-Chiew! HxXhht-shew! Hhnk’Kxhht-schiew! ‘sCHHiew! ‘Sheww!” Alastor sneezed, his eyes streaming with tears and his nose running hopelessly as he swatted Niffty away, still holding his handkerchief up to his nose. 

“I’m not going to help you if you’re gonna be coy to avoid being embarrassed, say what you mean or you can put a clothespin on your nose and help me with dinner,” Vaggie said, unamused. 

Alastor flushed, turning away and mumbling something through clenched teeth. 

“Huh?” 

Alastor mumbled a bit louder, but ultimately still unintelligible, especially with his handkerchief clasped over his nose and mouth. 

Vaggie placed both hands on her hips, “Alastor, just say it,” she ordered. 

Alastor huffed, balling his free hand into a fist before rolling his eyes and letting the confession spill out, “I thig’k I have the flu!” he exclaimed, sniffling as he swiped at his nostrils with his damp handkerchief, “Happy ndow? H-Hhnk’Kxhht-chew! Hnk’Xxht-shiew!”  

“Not really, it means I’m down a helper,” Vaggie sighed, “Go sit in the parlor on the other loveseat, I’ll be in there after I wash my hands to take your temperature.”  

Alastor gave a weak nod, wandering out of the kitchen and into the parlor, still sneezing. 

Upon Alastor leaving the kitchen, Angel returned, having showered and changed relatively quickly, “Well, looks like ya’ found mista’ happy face,” he said, pouring himself a glass of water and hurriedly chugging it before wiping off his mouth, “What’s up wit’ him?” 

“He thinks he’s getting sick,” Vaggie groaned, “It’s gonna be me, you, and Niffty looking after things, I guess.” 

“Guess so,” Angel replied, only to pause, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his messages, “Damnit, what’s takin’ them so long? At this point I oughtta just take one a’ the rapid tests they gave me.” 

“What are you talking about?” Vaggie asked, washing her hands in the sink before wiping them off with a dish towel. 

“Bunch of people at my job are gettin’ sick, so they tested all of us, and we’re supposed ta’ get the results soon, but they sent us home with a bag of ‘rapid tests’ that take like a minute,” Angel explained, gagging quietly, “I didn’t mind swabbin’ the back of my throat, but that stupid stick tastes awful runnin’ across your tongue.” 

Vaggie’s face brightened, and she grabbed Angel’s wrist, “Well, buck up and get ready for the taste, because the four of us are gonna take one,” she said, leading Angel out of the kitchen by tugging on his arm, “C’mon Niffty.” 

Niffty scrambled to get down from the kitchen island, skipping after Vaggie and Angel only to run back into the kitchen, hurriedly clean the shellfish scent off of her hands, and sprint to return to the parlor, eagerly sitting on the floor between Alastor’s legs. 

Angel pulled out four rapid tests from the plastic bag of them he’d been given upon leaving the broadcast tower, handing one to Vaggie, one to Alastor, and one to Niffty before keeping the last one in his hands. 

Husk and Charlie were both fast asleep, curled up against the base of the sofa from their respective levels of the makeshift trundle bed. Lucifer, on the other hand, was somewhat awake, and watched the four “healthy” hotel residents unwrap their tests in between small sips of his apple juice. 

Angel opened his mouth, scrubbing the surface of his tongue, the underside of his tongue, and the back of his throat, swirling the swab in a circle on the surface of his tonsils, nearly drooling with satisfaction as the sensation of the swab on his throat appeared to be scratching an itch he wasn’t even aware of, “Ngghhkkkk… nghh-ghhkk,” he droned, pulling the swab out of his mouth and struggling to keep a stray hand from gravitating toward his groin, “Hrghht-hrmm! That felt good…I kinda wanna do it again.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes, “Shambeless pervert- snff!- Hnk’Kxhht-Sshiew! ‘Shhiew! ‘Shhhew!” he grumbled, reluctantly putting his swab in his mouth and gagging with disgust upon swiping around his tongue and gagging a bit harder while reaching the back of his throat, quickly pulling the swab out once he’d been scrubbing for the instructed amount of time, “Euch… that was disgustii’g- Iihh…. HnKxXHt-SHEW!”  

Niffty quietly scrubbed her tongue and throat with her mouth closed around the swab, humming ‘Lollipop’ to herself as she worked the swab from side to side and up and down, pulling the swab out of her mouth and giggling after it made the same ‘Pop!’ sound that can be heard after the first segment of the song, “All done!” she cheered. 

Vaggie grumbled, nearly gagging prematurely upon watching the others complete their swabs, “Si vomito, mataré a alguien,” she grumbled, popping her swab into her mouth and hurriedly scrubbing the surface and underside of her tongue before gently inching closer to the back of her throat, sighing with relief when the sensation wasn’t nearly as gag-inducing as she expected, pulling the swab out with a triumphant smile. 

“Okay, now ya hafta put the swab in this tube and shake it around… and then rub the wet swab on the piece ‘a paper in the testing kit,” Angel explained, squinting through his bothersome headache to read the tiny print on the back of the testing kit’s packaging. 

All four participants shook their tubes of testing solution before smearing the sample across the rapid testing paper. 

Vaggie watched as the wet portion of her paper turned blue, “Negative,” she said with a smile, “Phew.” 

“Negative!” Niffty cheered, waving around her blue testing paper. 

Angel blinked, watching as his testing paper turned blue for a moment, only to quickly turn red, “Positive,” he sighed, massaging his temples with one pair of hands, “Explains why my head’s fuckin’ killin’ me.”  

Alastor waited patiently as his testing paper turned blue, and remained blue for a brief period, only to change colors, “It’s…greend- HnkXxhht’SHEW!” he said, cleaning off his monocle with his sleeve before staring at the testing paper, confused. 

Angel looked at the back of the testing kit, “Green is negative for… antigens… but positive for… antibodies, the fuck does that mean? Christ on a bike I barely passed goin’ to Catholic school in the 20s, I can’t read ‘dis shit,” he grumbled, pulling out his phone and plugging the words into a search engine, “Oh for Christ’s sake- I got nothin’ on ‘antibodies’,  but it says that testin’ negative for antigens means ya ain’t sick… I gotta keep scrollin’.” 

Alastor looked puzzled, staring back at his confusing testing paper before sniffling hopelessly into his handkerchief, “The accursed thi’g has to be faulty- HnkXxhht-sCHHIEW! Hnk’Kxhht-shew!- if I was fide I wouldn’t be put through the id- Snrkk!- indig’ndity of all this sdeezi’g… HnK’Xhht-SHIEW!” he said. 

Vaggie walked over to the loveseat where Alastor was sitting, pressing a hand to his forehead and waiting for a moment with narrowed eyelids before pulling it away, “I think it’s right… you feel fine to me, nice and cool,” she said with a smirk, “You’re just being a hypochondriac.” 

“Stop usin’ them big words, I don’t wanna have to look up anythin’ else, this is makin’ my brain hurt!” Angel complained, still scrolling through his phone.  

“You’ve been so worried about getting sick that your brain is doing everything it can to convince you that you’re sick,” Vaggie explained, poking Alastor’s red and irritated nose. 

“HnK’Tshhew! Hnk’Kxzxht-chiew! Hnk’KXxshIEW!” Alastor sneezed, wiping his nose with his handkerchief and letting loose a watery sniffle, “Euch…the’d why does mby ndose still feel so Iiihh…i-ihh…. Itchy?” 

Vaggie stared at Alastor’s runny nose and his watery eyes with puffy, visibly irritated eyelids, before directing her attention to Alastor’s handkerchief, noticing that his breath began to hitch and his eyes watered more when he held it closer to his twitchy nostrils, “Hand me your handkerchief,” she instructed. 

“What? Ndo- snff!” Alastor argued. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, yanking the cloth out of Alastor’s hands, and watching as the Radio Demon’s twitchy, sensitive nose seemingly calmed down, his watery eyes drying up, and his breathing returning to normal after a few damp sniffles. 

Alastor sighed in relief, wiping the moisture out of his eyes and fanning at his friction-reddened nose, “Oh my goodness,” he said in between panting breaths, leaning his head back against the back of the loveseat. 

“That feel better?” Vaggie asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Very much, yes,” Alastor said with a relieved smile. 

“So it was just your allergies, mystery solved,” Vaggie said, folding her arms, “Wonder what was on this thing that was making you sneeze so much.” 

Vaggie held up the handkerchief so that it was closer to her face, sniffing the air around it and sticking out her tongue in disgust when a heavy scent wafted into her nostrils, “Euchh, this thing reeks of cologne, no wonder you were sneezing so much,” she said, tossing the practically wet handkerchief into a garbage can in the far corner of the room. 

Alastor’s eyes widened, and he turned to stare at Lucifer with an unamused glare lingering in his eyes in spite of his tight smile, “It appears that your sweat practically burned the stench of your repulsive cologne into my clothes after I carried you,” he said through clenched teeth, “I was able to wash the stench out of my coat, but I didn’t think to wash my handkerchief that had been tucked into one of the pockets.” 

Lucifer scoffed, “My cologne smells fine, not my fault you’re allergic to it,” he said, blowing a drowsy raspberry in Alastor’s direction. 

“I wouldn’t put in so much effort to aggravate me when you’re so… fragile,” Alastor said, practically snarling as he flicked the center of Lucifer’s forehead. 

“Oh please- Khff khff!- I can still unravel your skin at the seams,” 

“I’d like to see you try, ‘Your Majesty’, your tiny little skull would be meeting the blunt metal edge of my microphone,” 

“D’aww, I appreciate the flirting, but you’re not my type… I could still give you a big, wet, germy kiss for your trouble if you want,” 

Alastor hit Lucifer over the head with his microphone, clutching the fabric on the chest of his shirt and shuddering with disgust, “You go too far,” he chided, avoiding Lucifer’s gaze by staring at the carpet. 

“Not far enough, get back over here so I can stick my tongue down your throat- Khff- KHFF!,” Lucifer teased, sticking out his tongue and tugging on Alastor’s long sleeve, giggling deliriously. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Vaggie said, pulling Alastor away from Lucifer and pushing Lucifer back into a reclined position in his makeshift bed, “Alastor, leave Lucifer alone- Lucifer, keep your tongue to yourself.” 

Lucifer folded his arms, pouting, “Fiine,” he said, plucking two tissues out of the box in his lap and blowing his ‘nose’, tossing the soiled tissues into the trash. 

“Overpowered garden gnome,” Alastor grumbled. 

“Pretentious loser,” Lucifer spat back. 

“Self-pitying recluse,” 

“Bitter self-absorbed misanthrope,” 

“A bit hypocritical coming from you, you insecure man baby,” 

“At least I can admit when I’m a hypocrite, you delusional megalomaniac,” 

Angel’s head swam as his brain tried to piece through the article on antibodies he was reading, the onslaught of syllables the two men were flinging at one another, and his own throbbing headache and sore throat, “I have no idea what the hell’s goin’ on,” he whined, clutching his sore abdominal muscles as sweat trickled down his face, soaking into his thin layer of fur. 

“Lay-about!” 

“Piss worm!”  

“Callate!” Vaggie shouted, pulling on the back of Alastor’s shirt and swatting at him before sticking a thermometer from her pocket into Lucifer’s mouth to quiet him down, “Both of you cut it out.” 

Alastor and Lucifer’s shouting roused Charlie from her slumber, the princess rolling over and sitting up with a scratchy yawn as she rubbed her eyes, looking around the room, “Mmm… wha’s happening?” she mumbled, trying to shake off the grogginess that weighed down every word that left her mouth. 

“Nice going, jackasses,” Vaggie huffed, turning to stroke Charlie’s feverish cheek with her left hand before kissing her forehead, “Nothing babe, don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh… okay, okay, I trust you- Snff snff!- I need a tissue,” Charlie rambled, blowing her nose into a folded-over tissue before settling back into her blankets with a shiver, “What time is it?” 

“Honestly I don’t even know, Angel, what time is it?” Vaggie asked, looking over her shoulder towards the spider. 

Angel groaned, massaging the center of his face before glancing at the time on his phone in the corner of the screen, squinting at the tiny print making his headache even worse, “6:15,” he said, going back to reading. 

“There you go… it’s earlier than I thought it was,” Vaggie said with a slight smile, running her fingers through Charlie’s hair, “You okay?” 

“Not really, but I’ll manage… H-kHHF! KHFFF!...(gasp)- KHFF KhFF KKHhFF!,” Charlie replied, rubbing her chest after her harsh cough and looking around the parlor, focusing on the swaying image of Lucifer, shooting him a drowsy wave, “I didn’t know my dad made it back home… Hi, Dad!”  

Lucifer waved back at Charlie, humming inquisitively at Vaggie and gesturing to the thermometer under his tongue- which had started to beep. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, pulling the thermometer out of Lucifer’s mouth and glancing at the screen, “103.4,” she said, wiping off the thermometer with an alcohol wipe before stowing it back in her pocket. 

“Aw, you too, Dad?” Charlie asked, leaning over the arm of the sofa and resting her chin in one hand, “Sorry I got you sick… Eeihh’KsSchiew! Eh’KsSchiew!” 

“No worries, Charlie, I picked this up the old fashioned way…snff! Last time I take the bus anywhere,” Lucifer groaned, swiping at his ‘nose’ with the back of his hand.

“Wait, if both of us are sick, that means neither of us are gonna be able to go to the summit!” Charlie exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes, only for Alastor to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“No need to worry, the overlord summit has been postponed on account of the majority of its attendees being… indisposed at present,” Alastor said with a calm smile. 

“Wha?” Charlie asked, looking up at Alastor with a confused look on her face. 

“If I hear anotha’ word wit’ more than two syllables that nobody knows the meanin’ of, I’m gonna pass out,” Angel snapped, turning away from his phone to cough, tucking his head into his elbow and swallowing against the ache in his throat before going back to reading. 

“Everyone’s sick, so they’re putting the summit off until later, Babe,” Vaggie explained. 

“Oh no, that’s terrible- Eeh’Ktschhew!- sorry… wonder how everyone managed to come down with it so fast… so close together,” Charlie pondered, pulling her blankets up to her chest. 

“Ahhha!- Koff KHFF KHFF! KHHHFFF!- fuck!” Angel shouted, tossing his phone aside and massaging his face, “Finally figured out what the fuck the antibody shit means!” 

Vaggie gestured for Angel to continue. 

“It said on this stupid website… ‘A green test result means that there is no active infection, but that the body has built up a resistance to the pathogen after a past infection, typically a recent one’,” Angel said, leaning back against the loveseat and draping an arm over his eyes. 

“So that means that you aren’t sick now, and you’re immune because you were sick recently,” Vaggie said, turning to look at Alastor with an unamused glare, “Before anyone else.” 

Alastor held up both hands defensively, “I have no recollection of being anywhere near this ill, that’s absurd,” he argued. 

“Not even a week ago, when I heard you down here trying your damnedest not to cough while you made your coffee before you disappeared for four days?” Vaggie asked, tilting her head to the side as she awaited Alastor’s response. 

“I-I felt perfectly fine, I only had a bit of a cold, and I do not appreciate this accusatory tone,” Alastor replied with a huff, polishing his monocle with a microfiber cloth he pulled from his pocket. 

“Alright, what did you do that day after you left, if you don’t mind me asking?” Vaggie asked, leaning over the back of the sofa and stroking Charlie’s hair as she waited. 

“I… I had to go to a sovereign overlords meeting… and then I had to visit the seamstress where Rosie had her dress made in order to pick up the extra fabric for my ensemble, a charming young succubus, I wish I could remember her name,” Alastor began to ramble, nervous sweat coating his forehead as he fiddled with the base of his microphone and averted his eyes. 

Charlie sniffled, narrowing her eyelids, “Did she have purple hair and a star shaped tail?” she asked. 

“As a matter of fact, yes, she did, how did you know?” Alastor replied with a chuckle, only for Charlie to snarl angrily, balling her fists before throwing her pillow at his head, “Ouch! My dear, there’s no need for senseless aggression- Ouch! Hey!” 

Charlie hissed and threw another pillow, “You,” she growled, “You started all of this because you’re too stubborn and stupid to admit- let alone tell someone- when you’re sick- Snff snff!- so you just wandered around town getting germs everywhere. All. Day!” 

“I- I reject the notion, you have no proof!” Alastor exclaimed, feigning a hurt expression as he pressed a hand to his chest. 

“Bullshit, breathin’ is enough to spread it around, not even mentionin’ the kinda trail you leave behind when you’re constantly blowin’ your nose wit’out washin’ ya’ hands… you filthy fuckin’ germ-spreader,” Angel said, folding his arms and furrowing his eyebrows in anger.

“Yeah! Exactly- Eeihh’KsSCHIEW!- Oh shoot- KhHhFF khff khff! KOFF- Khhff- khHff!,” Charlie said, rubbing her chest in an attempt to calm her ragged breathing after her coughing fit. 

“This kind of aggression and hostility is quite unlike you, Charlie, I must say I’m surprised,” Alastor remarked, quickly ducking as Charlie threw another pillow at him, “The projectiles are also unlike you.” 

“Oh ffuck you!” Charlie hissed, her horns peeking out through her crown of blonde locks, the same angry red as her nose, “I’m tired, I’m cold, my whole body hurts and I can barely get up to go pee, and you act so grossed out and high and mighty about ‘germs’, I’m allowed to be mad when they’re your germs to begin with! I’m allowed to be angry sometimes! KHFFF-KHff-Khfff!” 

Vaggie gently tapped Charlie’s back, carefully making sure not to rouse Husk from his sleep as she leaned over the arm of the sofa to embrace her girlfriend, “Of course you are, Babe, but try not to get too worked up,” she whispered, kissing Charlie’s feverish neck and smiling when Charlie melted into her touch, “There we go, it’s okay.” 

“Nice going, Antlers,” Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh hush, you have nothing to do with any of this,” Alastor said, waving Lucifer off nonchalantly. 

“Hey, listen Tough Guy-” Lucifer began, sitting up and beginning to gesticulate, only for Vaggie to pull away from Charlie and walk over to Lucifer, pressing her cool hand against his  burning forehead and silencing him as he sighed in relief, “Mmm… that feels n ice.” 

“I bet it does, and if you promise to stop picking fights with Alastor I’ll go get a cool washcloth for you,” Vaggie said with a knowing smile, noticing the eager and desperate look in Lucifer’s eyes, “Promise?” 

Lucifer nodded weakly, “Mkay, I promise,” he said, lying back down and staring at his socks, chuckling to himself as his feverish mind wandered, turning the solid blue fabric into a makeshift sky, clouds drifting across the fabric. 

Vaggie sighed, turning to Alastor and gesturing at him, “Well?” she asked, unimpressed and exasperated with the nonsensical back-and-forth. 

“I… I apologize for unknowingly causing all of this… and for being a bit-” Alastor nearly gagged on the platitudes forming on his tongue, “- impersonal and detached in my methods of engaging with the afflicted, particularly in this instance since your ailments were my fault to begin with, and… I will find some way to make it up to you,” he said with a pained smile, one eye twitching behind his monocle. 

“Awww- Snff!- that was beautiful,” Charlie said, her voice cracking as she threatened to cry, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve before blowing her nose, “I forgive you… I wasn’t even that mad, I just really don’t feel well and it’s making me cranky.” 

“Perfectly understandable, my dear,” Alastor replied, fighting back a shudder and reaching out to stroke Charlie’s scalp, “Nowhere to go from here but up.” 

Charlie nodded, coughing harshly into her elbow before weakly gesturing to her three pillows that were scattered at Alastor’s feet, “Can I have my pillows back?” she asked, pitifully attempting to lean over and reach out to grab them. 

“Of course,” Alastor said, tucking two of Charlie’s pillows behind her to support her back and neck, and placing the third pillow near Charlie’s feet, “Better?” 

“Mmhm… Ehh…E-ehh… EhH’KSschew! Eihh’KtsSChiew! Eehh’KSschheww!” Charlie hummed in reply, emptying her sinuses with a desperate blow before tossing the damp tissue in the garbage, “O h hhh… my sinuses hurt.”  

“I’ll get you some decongestant after dinner,” Vaggie promised, massaging Charlie’s sinuses with her fingertips. As she massaged Charlie, Vaggie looked over and noticed Angel curled up in a half-formed fetal position, shivering, “Are you gonna be okay?” she asked. 

Angel made an indecisive gesture with his hand, wiping sweat from his brow and grimacing as an ache radiated through the muscles in his abdomen, legs, and back, “I ain’t feelin’ too hot… Hh-KHFF! KHFF!- ‘s like I got hit by a truck,” he mumbled, voice slightly hoarse from his sore throat as a hand reached up and rubbed the base of his neck.

Vaggie thumbed Charlie’s cheek for a moment, before walking over to the loveseat opposite Lucifer’s, maneuvering Angel into an upright position and pressing a palm to his forehead, “You feel plenty hot to me,” she chuckled, pulling the thermometer out of her pocket. 

“Ya know what I meant,” Angel huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Mhm, I did, open your mouth,” Vaggie instructed, sliding the thermometer under Angel’s tongue and waiting until it beeped before pulling it out, “102…2.4…2.7.” 

“Shit,” Angel said with a groan, lying back down only for Vaggie to tug him back upright. 

“Ah-ah-ah! Sit up, I’ll be right back with your pajamas, you can lie down after you’ve changed,” Vaggie said, “Where do you keep them?” 

“They’re lyin’ across my bed- Snff! Snff!,” Angel replied, his eyelids threatening to droop as a deep flush covered his cheeks, burning bright enough that it was visible through his fur. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back, Niffty make sure he doesn’t lie down until I come back,” Vaggie said, turning on her heels and disappearing up the stairs. 

Niffty giggled, standing on the back of the loveseat and gently combing Angel’s frayed hair with her tiny fingers, “You’re so sweaty I can use it like moisturizer,” she said. 

“Khhff-khff! Quit rubbin’ sweat into my hair, Niff… Snff!” Angel said, weakly swatting at Niffty only to relent, enjoying the feeling of her tiny hands massaging his scalp, the sensation practically relieved his throbbing headache, “Mmm…” 

Vaggie returned to the parlor with a silk pajama top adorned with pink lace, a pair of fleece pajama pants with button-up pockets, and a pair of large pink socks, tossing them in Angel’s lap and dusting off her hands, “You need help getting to the bathroom to go change?” she asked. 

Angel shook his head, “I got it, I got it,” he insisted, putting on the pajamas and socks, before squirming a bit and adjusting two of his arms, suddenly pulling out his shirt, jacket, pants, and boots from the waistband of his pajama pants, “All’a them years doin’ quick changes finally paid off… hHh! Hahh! Hah’TsShhew! Hah’TsSsHEW!” 

Vaggie folded Angel’s street clothes and placed them in a laundry basket behind the sofa before handing Angel a pink fleece blanket adorned with zebra stripes and a box of tissues. 

“Thanks, Vags… Snfff! Euch,” Angel said, plucking a tissue out of the box and gently pressing it to his face before emptying his sinuses in a heavy blow that sounded closer to a honk at the tail end. 

“Okay, now that everything is all settled, you four are going to stay here and rest,” Vaggie said before turning to Alastor and Niffty, “and you two are going to help me finish dinner.” 

“Of course, lead the way,” Alastor said calmly, resting his microphone in his palm and shifting his weight onto his other foot before following Vaggie into the kitchen. 

“Okey-dokey!” Niffty cheered, skipping behind Alastor and Vaggie, only to scurry back into the parlor and land an open-hand slap on Husk’s chest, rousing him from his deep slumber, before scrambling back into the kitchen, giggling uncontrollably. 

Husk snorted, rapidly shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as his ears twitched, “Hhm? KHFF-KHFFF! Fuck… my chest hurts,” Husk grumbled sleepily, opening his eyelids after a moment of struggle and looking around the room, “Mmm… what time ‘s it? Did I miss somethin’?” 

“Nothin’ important,” Angel yawned, pulling his blanket up to his chest and blowing his ‘nose’, “H-hahh…Hah’TsShew!” 

“Bless you,” Husk said, still a bit drowsy. About seven seconds passed, before Husk’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around in Angel’s direction, “Wait a minute, when the hell did you get here?!” 

Angel snickered, weakly kicking his feet as his snickers devolved into full blown laughter, laughter so intense that Angel began rolling gently from side to side, only to roll off of the loveseat and collapse onto the carpet. 

Husk rolled his eyes, “Real funny, huh Legs?” he asked, glancing over at Angel again with an unamused scoff. 

“Damn right it was funny, it was worth it,” Angel said in between guffaws and coughs, only to groan in pain as the sore muscles in his back throbbed after the initial impact, “Not completely worth it… but it was still funny.” 

Husk sighed, using the television remote cradled in his lap to turn on the TV, before rolling back over to face the base of the sofa, and falling back asleep, his soft but deep snoring filling the room as his ears and tail twitched, the rest of his body completely still and quiet. 

“HrRR’SshOO! HrR’Schuhh!” 

Well, mostly quiet.  

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Event | A Postman Delivering Your Feelings | Episode 1

Misumi: Triangle, tri~angle~♪

Misumi: (It was so fun to also find new triangles at my part-time job today~.)

Misumi: Huh? It’s the mail carrier! Hello~.

Postal Worker: Hello.

Misumi: Do you have any letters that are addressed to the house with the triangle roof~?

Postal Worker: Yes, I do.

Misumi: Then you can give them to me! I also live there.

Postal Worker: Ah, is that so? Then, here you are.

Misumi: ‘Kaaay! Thank you as always~!

Misumi: Waaah, there’s lotsa letters today too~.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: So the meeting I just went to now…

*Door opens*

Misumi: I’m home~. Director-san, I’ve got a letter for you!

Izumi: Ah, Misumi-kun, welcome home. I see you got the mail too, thank you.

Izumi: Umm… This one is addressed to you, Tasuku-san.

Tasuku: To me?

Tasuku: …Ah, it’s from the sweepstakes company I applied to.

Masumi: Did you win or something?

Tasuku: Nah, I don’t remember applying for anything that’d be sent in an envelope like this, but… I’ll open it up and see what it is anyway.

*Tasuku opens the letter*

Tasuku: This is… a 500-yen gift certificate?

Tasuku: …That’s right, I do remember it mentioning something about 100 people winning gift certificates in a drawing from the people who didn’t win the main giveaway.

Misumi: Really? That’s great! Congrats, Tasuku!

Tasuku: Thanks. But I can probably only get a drink at a convenience store or something with 500 yen.

Izumi: This one’s addressed to Azuma-san, this one is accounting-related… And this one is addressed to you, Masumi-kun. Here you go.

Masumi: Thanks. I’m glad you’re the one who handed it to me.

Tasuku: Who’s it from?

Masumi: My grandma.

Misumi: Waaah, so it’s from her~!

Masumi: Ever since I wrote a letter to her after she went to the U.S. on Respect-for-the-Aged Day like you told me to, Misumi, we’ve been exchanging letters every once in a while.

Izumi: I see. I’m sure Hatsue-san is really happy to be getting letters from you, Masumi-kun. Make sure you write her a reply.

Masumi: Yeah, I’ll be sure to.

Misumi: That’s so nice, Masumi~!

Misumi: (I wrote a letter to Gramps back then too. …I really like exchanging letters like that.)

Izumi: Ah, Misumi-kun. There’s a letter for you too.

Misumi: For me? Who’s it from~?

Misumi: Ah, it’s from the neighborhood grandma who I sent a letter on Respect-for-the-Aged Day! Waaah, yay~!

Izumi: Hehe, I’m glad.

Misumi: But I wonder why she had the mail carrier bring it when she lives so close? Why did she write me a letter?

Tasuku: Well, you won’t know until you read it. Maybe it’ll even explain why she chose to mail it.

Misumi: Right! Umm…

Misumi: Waaah, she’s on a trip with her daughter and and son-in-law right now! It looks like she sent me it from her trip!

Masumi: That must be why she mailed it then.

Misumi: She said, “I was very happy to get your letter on Respect-for-the-Aged Day and wanted to write a reply someday, but the timing was never quite right…”

Misumi: “On my trip, I found a lovely postcard like yours, Misumi-kun, so I thought now was the perfect time and sent this letter along with the postcard.”

Tasuku: This postcard must’ve reminded her of you, Ikaruga.

Izumi: It really is a beautiful postcard of the sky. I’m glad this reminded her of you, Misumi-kun.

Misumi: Me too! I’m really happy she thought of me ‘cause of this postcard, but I’m also really happy just to get a letter from someone like her~!

[ Next Part ⇢ ]

[deathrocket]

[ᴄᴏɴᴛ. ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ]

It wasn't entirely implausible that Silco would accept the idea; she'd goaded the man into taking plenty of "well-earned breaks" in the past with little to no issue, despite the plentiful amount of times he'd disagreed without so much as a glance in her direction. Hard work was a pillar of Silco's character, after all. It would be unlike him completely to cave to Jinx's pressure every time she harassed him into stepping away from his carefully-organized desk of letters and paperwork.

She adopted the if you want something done right, do it yourself ethos from him, after all. Take things into your own hands. Others will disappoint.

Like every time he agreed to any of her shenanigans, the giddiness was near-impossible to hide. She rocked back and forth, from the fronts of her boots to the heels, her braids swaying with the action.

"Iiiiii need some new supplies," she drawled, eyes wide with elation. "Like paint, and stuff. You know? Annnnnd..." She looked around the room, as if the persistent eye contact would cause Silco to realize this was all just a ploy to go anywhere other than here. While the idea of running errands was detestable to Jinx, the idea of getting out and about seemed to glow in comparison. A breather definitely wouldn't hurt, she figured.

"I heard Finn has been talking up a storm again." She took hold of the lapels of his vest, giving them a small tug. Mischief tugs at her lips. "Waaah, Silco's being sooo unfair," she voiced in a mocking tone. "Or whatever he said. Maybe you should ask him about it!"

Silco wasn't worried about the fact that Jinx's expression briefly merged into cold determination, which did little to lessen her own hunger for bloodshed. Good, that was good. Hatred and rage were always better to feel than the sadness and pain, coming from betrayal. Vander had been easy to hate, and yet, Silco had respected the Hound, the leader in him.

It was such a shame that that same leader had chosen to stop pushing forwards, to stop yearning for more. It was ironic really: The one thing, Silco despised his mother for doing, Vander hadn't done enough and look what standstill, it had brought them all.

At least his actions were bringing the culture of the Undercity back on track: That specific blend of violence, insane determination and ingenuity, which only a place as convoluted and dangerous as the Undercity could bear. Zaun was a place of invention, like its big sister, Piltover, but it also celebrated the darkness of human imagination. Silco loved it for that.

Taking note of the mischievous glint in Jinx's blue eyes and the wily smile creeping across her face, Silco leaned forwards, curious as to what his daughter was about to purpose next. It was more than apparent that she had managed to get through her episode and now was back to that wily, mischievous self, that more warm-blooded predator, which hunted both for a kill and sport. After all, every animal with a certain level of intelligence was capable of being a sadist.

"A break?", repeated Silco and his heterochromatic eyes drifted over to the letters, he had yet to answer, his breath leaving his narrow nose in a quiet puff, "I believe, we do indeed. Now, Jinx, I presume you already have an idea of what you want to do, don't you? So tell me: What are we doing during our break?"

[dustofthedailylife]

Will you...?

Diluc Birthday Special 2022

→ Masterlist

Summary: Diluc invites you over for dinner. Seems like there is something he would like to tell you.

Pairing: Diluc x (gn!)Reader

Warnings: None - just fluff for his birthday! <3

A/N: Waaah, I didn't even intend to write something for his birthday but alas here I am lol. I wrote this in godspeed mode because when I read his birthday letter and saw the birthday fanart earlier it was as if lightning had struck me with inspiration and it just kept coming - now here we are, enjoy! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

"As you may know today is my birthday, I’m not one to celebrate but If you have the time, I’d like to invite you to dinner at the winery tonight.

As for matters that I am unable to say in this letter, I will tell you personally when we meet.

With love,

Diluc Ragnvindr"

A lovedrunk sigh escaped you when you finished reading through the letter the courier had brought to you earlier. You had been together with Diluc for a little while now and from that you knew that he usually greatly disliked it when someone made a fuss out of celebrating his birthday or even did as much as bring him a gift. So being invited for dinner today was something truly special. Even though you had wondered what that last line was implying.

You used every single minute that the day had to offer to prepare for tonight. First, you excitedly picked out the nicest clothes that your wardrobe had to spare before taking a trip to the city to search for a gift for Diluc, even though you knew he wouldn't want anything - but you wouldn't be you if you'd let that stop you from getting him something anyway. You didn’t want it to be anything basic like flowers, chocolates or wine - also because god knows he had enough of the latter himself.

At first you couldn’t find anything worthwhile anywhere until you decided to pay a visit to Mondstadt's souvenir shop and that's where you found precisely what you were looking for. A beautiful silver necklace with a heart pendant cut from crystalcore. You had Marjorie engrave both of your names on the back of it as well. Back at home you carefully wrapped the box it came in with brown parchment paper and decorated it with a red ribbon that you folded intricately around it.

All dressed up, giddy and slightly nervous you were now standing in front of your boyfriend’s home and knocked on the door. You heard quick footsteps approaching the door and assumed Adelinde would open the door as she usually does, but today it was none other than Diluc himself. He was not wearing his coat so you could admire his stature a little more than you were usually able to and at that moment you wanted nothing more than to grab him, pull him closer and feel the touch of his bare arms on your skin.

“Good evening, love. You look gorgeous!” He complimented and his eyes sparkled as he looked at you. 

You slightly blushed and took a step closer to give him a small peck on his lips and ushered a loving “Happy Birthday!”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

When you were standing in the big living room area of the Winery it seemed uncommonly quiet. A big table was set for two with the finest porcelain tableware you had ever seen and a beautiful bouquet and candles were decorating the middle.

“Where are the others?” You turned around to ask.

“The others?”

“Well, you know - Adelinde and everyone who is usually around. It’s so quiet today.”

“I wanted to spend my birthday with you alone. Is that a problem?”

“Not in the slightest! I’ve been in the best mood ever since I got your letter this morning” You beamed. He grabbed your hand and guided you to the table, pulling out the chair for you as you sat down.

“Oh! Before I forget! One more thing!” You exclaimed to which he raised an eyebrow. “Before you scold me, I know you don’t like receiving gifts but no matter how often you will tell me that you don’t want anything, I will get you something nonetheless. So… Happy Birthday.”

With a shy expression you pulled the package which you had carefully wrapped earlier out of your bag and handed it to him. You bit your lip as you watched him unwrap it, pulling out the necklace with a small smile. He twisted the pendant around in between his fingers, until he found the engraving on the back and his smile was suddenly replaced by a frown.

“What? Is something wrong with it? Do you not like it?” You asked with panic welling up in your voice.

“It’s perfect, Darling, but–”

“But?”

“I think the engraving is wrong.”

“No way!” You jumped up from your chair and yanked the necklace out of his hand to look at it yourself but when you turned it around, you found nothing wrong with it. There was an ornate Diluc Ragnvindr engraved on it next to your name, so you looked up at him in confusion.

“Huh, wha–? There is nothing wrong with it!”

“I was under the impression your last name is spelled wrong.”

When you turned it around one more time in your hand you grew even more confused. It was most certainly spelled correctly so you were sure he must’ve read it incorrectly.

When you looked up at him again with question marks and worry written all over your face, Diluc softly shook his head and smiled as he got down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a small box with a breathtakingly beautiful ring inside of it. You momentarily forgot how to breathe and your heart was about to burst out of your chest when he gently grabbed your hand.

“I still believe your last name is spelled wrong, because there is something I had planned to ask you tonight – Will you marry me?”

Thanks so much for reading this short drabble. I'm always open to chat if you wanna drop by my ask box or leave a reply.

If you liked it, I would appreciate reblogs and likes a lot too ♥

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife

Maple divider is mine - do not copy.

[inkykeiji]

break my heart in two, but when it heals it beats for you

character: zenin naoya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaaah this is my lil submission for the sewer’s soulmate syndrome collab (and my first collab ever waaah!!!) it’s a curseless soulmate AU with the tiniest hint of the zenin’s being a prominent crime family. please please heed the warnings!! | title credit: back to you by selena gomez

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, incest (reader and naoya are half siblings), mentioned death of a family member (mother), naoya being his misogynistic self, excessive use of the word ‘Daddy’ to refer to their biological father, one (1) instance of physical abuse, size kink/size difference, mentioned relationship between a university student (reader) and their TA, infidelity, one (1) mention of Daddy being yakuza, age difference, spanking done by reader’s biological father, toxic relationships, minimal prep, rough sex, a hint of degradation

words: 9.5k

synopsis:

Except the torture doesn’t stop, even when you’re gone, because he’s assaulted with thoughts of you the very moment you leave—what you’re doing, who you’re with, if he plagues your mind as much as you plague his—you’re like a fucking sickness, a parasite that burrows deep between the folds and tissues of his brain, infecting it, and he’s hopeless to find a cure.

It’s a few days after his twenty-ninth birthday, the night you appear��unannounced, uninvited, and an absolute fucking mess—falling into his father’s arms the moment he opens the door, fingers curling in the material of his cashmere button up and tugging as powerful sobs rip through your entire body, violent tremors following.

It’s fucking disgusting, the way his father reacts. Naoya watches the entire thing unfold from the shadows of the living room, nose wrinkled in distaste, features twisted in aversion and saturated in abhorrence.

Because his father lets you cling to him like a child—a grown woman, gripping a seventy-one year old man like a sniveling little girl—as he manages to scoop you up into his arms, collapsing onto his favourite armchair with you in his lap, hushing you gently as he rocks you back and forth, large hands stroking your shuddering back as you nuzzle your puffy, snot-stained face into his chest, wailing out Daddy!

It’s the first time Naoya’s ever seen his father behave in such a way, revolt churning his stomach as he observes the quite frankly unfamiliar man in front of him. It makes him fucking sick to watch, acidic bile rising in his throat until it stings the back of his tongue, face souring as he swallows it back down.

And you can’t even manage to force words through your stuttering breathing and hiccupped little sobs, unable to explain the situation at all without being overwhelmed by another fresh wave of tears, crashing over your body as you fall back into the sanctuary of his father’s arms, face buried in his neck, now soiled with spit and salt water.

“Naoya,” his father calls, voice curt and stern and demanding, snapping Naoya’s gaze to his own in an instant. “A glass of water, please?”

Naoya scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck do I look like to you? The help?”

And Naoya’s no stranger to the level gaze his father fixes him with, has seen that same look etched into his father’s face more times than he can count, eyebrows pinched and mouth pressed in a firm, fine line, chest rising as he inhales slowly, calmly, deeply, then exhales through flared nostrils.

“You look like a good big brother who’s on his way to get his baby sister some water,”

Ah, right, that’s who you are—the bastard, Daddy’s little mistake, an ugly, irreversible stain on their family’s prestigious name.

“That bitch is not my sister,” he grumbles as he stomps from the room and towards the kitchen to fetch you a drink, huffing under his breath about being treated like a fucking woman, yet obeying his father’s orders nonetheless.

It turns out, Naoya learns, that your mother has passed away, leaving his poor bastard of a baby sister all alone in the world, with nowhere to go—and you’ve come here to ask for shelter and food, just until you get on your feet.

It’s fucking pathetic, as far as Naoya’s concerned, shaking his head in condescending disbelief with a cruel snort. It’s almost difficult to believe that you, undoubtedly the family disgrace; you, with your dirty blood and the dishonour you haul around everywhere with you, have the balls to come crawling to his father begging for support. You’re an adult, for Christ’s sake, and you should act like one, should be out scouring the earth for some equally pathetic man to serve like you ought to, like you would have, if you knew your place. Maybe then, Naoya would have a shred of respect for you.

Maybe.  

“How selfish. Daddy already pays for your tuition, why should he provide you with housing, too? Are you really that incompetent? Can’t do a thing for yourself, huh?”

Your head whips around to face him, almost as if you’re startled by his presence, by his voice addressing you directly, a sharp gasp falling from your lips the moment your eyes meet.

It’s the first time you’ve actually looked at him since you’ve arrived, the first time your gaze has connected with his, eyes bloodshot and gleaming as crystal tears stream down your cheeks, excess water clinging to spidery lashes, clumped together in spikes.

God, you’re beautiful.

It kicks him right in the motherfucking chest, hard enough that he stumbles back a few feet into the stone fireplace, a hand gripping the mantle for stability while his body caves in on itself. A spear of agony sears through his body, slicing clean through all of his vital organs as you choke out an apology punctuated with an honorific, head shaking in jerky little motions as your tongue struggles to form words to explain yourself.

And he’s never felt anything like it in his entire life, skin feeling as though it’s been set ablaze from the inside, thick black smoke filling is lungs as he wheezes on an inhale, strangled by it.

“Naoya,” his father snaps, eyes wide and scorching. “Leave.”

Each step away from the living room feels heavier than the last, as if his blood’s been replaced by lead, by rapidly drying concrete, rendering him incapable of lifting his feet from the floor, dragging them against the tile until it’s fucking painful, calves and thighs tingling as if the blood flow’s been entirely obstructed, muscles quivering and exhausted.

“It’s okay,” he can hear his father’s faint voice soothing you, each of your sniffles feeling like a sharp little thorn straight to his heart, each of your tiny I’m sorry’s carving out a vacant, phantom wound in his chest. “Shh, it’s alright, Daddy’s here, Daddy’s got you,”

“Pathetic,” Naoya spits to the empty hallway, though the word wavers, catching a little in his throat, letters scraping the gummy walls as he forces them from his mouth, leaving scalding little blisters in its wake.

It’s then that Naoya decides he hates you; standing motionless in the dark  hallway, feet inexplicably bolted to the floor and chest burning with some unknown emotion, a fire that blazes and rages, flares and thrashes, with each of your hitched little apologies, his teeth clenched together so tightly he’s surprised they don’t crack.

But it’s only after your sobs have calmed, father having reduced them to soft sniffles and half-hiccups through tender words and sweet affirmations, only after Naoya knows that you’ll be staying here for the night—that you’ll be safe—that he regains control over his limbs, that he rips his cement-filled feet from the floor and trudges towards his bedroom, scalding inferno dulled to simmering coals and faint flickering cinders.

He doesn’t think about it—isn’t going to think about it, refuses to waste his time or energy on such absurdity, refuses to allow his father’s preposterous decisions and ridiculous sentiments soak up space in his consciousness.

And he absolutely refuses to think about is the way your sudden presence punched a sharp gasp from his chest, the way he suddenly feels incomplete, like something’s missing, now that you aren’t within arms-reach, the way that he lost control over his entire body for the first time in his fucking life, in that hallway, just a few moments ago.

    ✰          ✰          ✰

His father—your father—falls in love with you almost immediately; having only met you briefly a few times before this, despite sending your mother multiple cheques every month for over twenty years.

It’s truly deplorable, positively sickening to watch the way his eyes light up when you come skipping into the living room after your afternoon university classes, dropping a fat, almost obscene kiss to Daddy’s cheek before plopping down on his lap as you chatter on about your day—about what you learned in lecture today, about the essay you got back (top of your class, of course), about your cute TA with the white hair and crystal eyes who always seems to conjure a bashful expression the moment you mention his name.

Naoya watches the entire thing unfold day after day, a deep sneer etched into his face, jaw clenched so hard it begins to ache, light eyes glaring daggers in your direction.

Something akin to jealousy, a creature with glowing emerald eyes and gnashing teeth and razor claws that slash and tear at the pit of his belly, roars and rattles the ribs that keep it caged within his chest, gnawing on the bones every time his—your—father makes you giggle, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you gaze at him; every time lithe fingers brush hair back from your face or a large palm settles on the crown of you head, petting you gently; every time you nuzzle into his neck, curling up comfortably—perfectly—in Daddy’s big, strong arms that keep you protected from all of the bad, from all of the evils of this world, from him, the big brother that loathes you.

It’s unsettling, almost sad in a sense, seeing his father fall from grace, observing the way you decay his persona so quickly, eating away at it like corrosive acid, rotting him from the inside out; the way he morphs from one of the most powerful and feared Yakuza bosses into soft, sticky, sweet putty in your hands the moment you appear; the way your presence shatters his tough, hard exterior and renders him gentle and tender—gentler and tenderer than he’s ever behaved with Naoya or any of his older brothers.

He can’t fucking stand to watch it, despises every single thing about it, positively detests the inexplicable, uncontrollable sensations that thrash and thunder inside of him, an unusual mixture of envy and melancholy, of wrath and desire, combined to create something toxic, something hazardous, something uncontainable that erodes his senses and mind, leaking into his bloodstream and poisoning his thoughts.

Because his gaze stays glued to you the moment you enter a room, like he’s bewitched by you, cursed by you the way his father has become, unable to rip his eyes from your form until you exit.

Except the torture doesn’t stop, even when you’re gone, because he’s assaulted with thoughts of you the moment you leave—what you’re doing, who you’re with, if he plagues your mind as much as you plague his—you’re like a fucking sickness, a parasite that burrows deep between the folds and tissues of his brain, infecting it, and he’s hopeless to find a cure.

And the worst part, the worst part is that he hasn’t a clue why. He doesn’t know why he feels the way he does, why you evoke such strong emotions—emotions he’s never felt before, emotions he doesn’t have a name for—or why, suddenly, everything feels wrong, off, whenever you’re not around.

It’s fucking annoying. Those tiny, raised bumps on the inside of his wrist—shaped in the form of a zodiac constellation, a mark everyone is born with, a mark that supposedly hints at your soulmate—burn and tingle as he meditates on these notions, blunt nails scratching viciously at his skin.

    ✰          ✰          ✰

Daddy grants you permission to stay at the estate for as long as you’d like, because of course he does, a victim to the spell you’ve cast. He even gives you your own room, helps you pick out furniture and takes you shopping for new clothes. You promise to do your share around the house—pinky swear—and, to Naoya’s immense dissatisfaction, you don’t disappoint.

No. Instead, you excel.

Those pretty little words weren’t empty promises—you begin cooking all of the meals, taking on the task to do the dishes entirely by yourself, tending to the house and the garden outside, even going as far to aid the help in their daily cleaning routines, until Daddy tells you it isn’t necessary.

And you manage to capture almost everyone’s hearts through your deeds and duties, through your kind and compassionate nature, through your being attentive and, for the most part, obedient—but most important of all, being family oriented.

You do the laundry when it needs to be done. You keep the house spotless and the kitchen sparkling. You learn everyone’s favourite dishes and then dedicate hours upon hours to perfecting them.

Naoya observes you throughout it all, sharp eyes following your movements, watching as you expertly tend to everyone’s needs, almost as if you know what they’ll require before they do.

You’d be perfect wife material, if you weren’t his sister—he catches the thought as it drifts through his mind—a sentiment that’s almost involuntary, unthinking in nature— and strangles it with his bare hands, stomps on it until it’s nothing but dust.

Because what’s more infuriating than anything else is that you are a good woman, a perfect woman, a woman who—for the most part—understands her place and duty in the household; or, at least, you did, before Daddy began spoiling you rotten.

It earns you the nickname princess from your favourite nii-san, hissed through gritted teeth with narrowed eyes and scrunched up noses, drenched in condescension and sprinkled with artificial icing sugar—a nickname Daddy irritatingly and affectionately adopts, extracting all of the patronization Naoya had imbued it with and stuffing it full of love.

You aren’t invincible, though, no matter how precious you are, how sweet your voice becomes when you bat your eyelashes and fix a pout on your lips, how much Daddy is barely able to deny you.

Because Daddy’s incessant spoiling does eventually bite him in the ass, just like Naoya knew it would.

    ✰          ✰          ✰

“But Daddy,” you whine, wearing your prettiest pout and cutest puppy-dog eyes, lethal weapons that are nearly foolproof, your most cherished expressions that grant you almost everything you want. “It’ll just be for a little, I promise! Just a drink or two!”

“I said no—”

“But everyone’s going! Even my professors will be there; I’m expected to show up!” Voice rising in pitch, your arms cross over your chest as eyebrows knit deeply and a lip juts out further, looking about two seconds away from stomping your foot.

Naoya would be amused, really, to see a grown woman acting like a petulant fucking child over some inconsequential party being thrown by the department, if he didn’t feel like his heart was ripping itself to pieces with your teary expression and soft half-sniffles, with the knowledge that, if you attend, you’ll be with him.

“You have an exam tomorrow,” Daddy reminds you in a sigh, dipping his head to scrutinize you over the rim of his reading glasses. “Are they not all required to write the same exam as well?”

“Well, they are, but—”

“But they didn’t spend their study break out gallivanting with their TA, did they?”

Your eyes widen for a second, shocked by the words leaving your father’s mouth, but the expression is gone in an instant, morphed into incredulousness, eyes rolling as your tongue tuts in disbelief.

“Please, we were studying,”

The chuckle that escapes your father’s lips is anything but warm; it’s cruel and condescending, a sharp slap to the face, your bottom lip beginning to tremble as he snaps his book shut, the sound echoing throughout the living room.

“You must think me a real fool,” he’s almost snickering as he throws his glasses on the coffee table, grunting a little as he stands from his armchair and raises himself to his full height, towering over you. “Do you think Daddy’s stupid?”

“What? No, of course not—”  

“Then why are you lying to him?”

“I-I’m not—”

“And you’re doing it again?”

Head shaking in jerky, quivering movements, your lips open and close, emitting nothing more but little squeaks of breath as you try to backtrack, managing to stammer out an apology.

“It’s a little late for that,” your father’s saying sternly, a large hand curling around your bicep as he yanks you towards him, beginning to haul you down the hall. “Good girls do not lie to their fathers,”

Naoya sits tense and coiled in his father’s armchair, a symphony of your cries mingled with harsh slaps of Daddy’s calloused palm against your smooth skin carrying throughout the house, and he swallows thickly, past the lump that’s lodged itself in the column of his throat, past the bitter acid rising in his chest, past the irregular thumping of his heart against his ribs.

Because he doesn’t know why your wails and squeals of Daddy! M’sorry! Daddy! make his cock throb and his chest ache—ache with longing, with want and desire, with jealousy—doesn’t know why he finds himself fucking his fist to those memories that same night, mind fixated on the quick glance he had caught through the sliver of the open door when he couldn’t stand it anymore, when he had to sneak down the hallway just to make sure everything was alright, images of you thrown over father’s knees, bare ass spanked raw materializing in his head.

Or maybe he does know. Maybe he refuses to admit it. Maybe he just pretends he doesn’t, because he wishes he didn’t.

Still, you always get off fucking easy, as far as Naoya’s concerned. He’s never witnessed his father allow any woman to talk back to him with such horrid disrespect, to whine and plead and roll their eyes without a backhand so heavy, so hard it knocks them to the floor.

And yet, you receive a few measly spanks to your ass—a punishment that’s more embarrassing than anything else, terribly unfit for a grown woman—and get sent to your room for the rest of the night.  

“She truly is Daddy’s Little Girl,” his mother had snarled after one particular punishment, features curled up in an unattractive sneer.

Naoya can’t help but begrudgingly agree.

      ✰          ✰          ✰

“Oh, lighten up,” one of his brothers nudges his foot with the toe of his slipper before collapsing next to him one abnormally cold evening in early October, interrupting Naoya’s nightly routine of glaring at you, cuddled up into Daddy’s side as you watch a show. “Just because you aren’t Daddy’s favourite anymore doesn’t mean you have to skulk around looking like you just ate a whole lemon,”

“What’re you on about,” Naoya seethes through clenched teeth, glancing at his older brother through the corner of his eye.

“You know,” he responds airily with a knowing smirk, nodding his head in your direction. “She’s taken your place, huh? Or is that not what’s upsetting you?”

And that hurts—it hurts, because he used to be Daddy’s favourite, Daddy’s youngest—the baby—Daddy’s spoiled brat. He’s used to being the center of Daddy’s attention, used to being the object of his praise, used to being the golden child, the prized child, the destined son nurtured and conditioned to take over the Family Business once his father retires.

Light eyes roll back in his skull as he tsks in disapproval, shaking his head and clearing his throat to rid the tremble from his voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Mm, I think I know more than you believe,”

The words are spoken in a murmur, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, but Naoya’s gaze snaps back to his face immediately as he calls your name, gently pulling you from the hushed conversation you were having with Daddy, full of giggles and murmurs, nonchalantly asking, “When’s your birthday?”

No.

No, Naoya wants to hiss at his pathetic excuse of a brother, large hands curling into quivering fists, nails biting into the fleshy heels of his palms as teeth grit, forcefully swallowing back down the two letter refutation.

No-no-no-no-no, he doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to know, doesn’t need to know, throat constricting as you inhale to speak, chirpily responding.

Blood turns to thick ice in his veins when he hears your birth date, when he realizes those raised little bumps he was born with on the inside of his wrist match your zodiac sign. Heavy dread, black and poisonous and akin to thick disappointment, sinks in his chest, latching onto the floor of his stomach and spreading quickly, sticky as it engulfs all of his surrounding organs, coating them in acidic pollution.

He’s up and out of his seat before his brother has even finished asking you his next question, stumbling out of the room on unsteady legs, nearly tripping over his own ankles in his haste to get away from you, to escape.

He doesn’t want to know what the bumps on your inner wrist are, tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care, that this is all bullshit anyway, century-old myths created by the dreamers and the sentimentalists. It isn’t like the prospect hadn’t already crossed his mind—drifting through a sick orgasmic haze after fucking his fist to the memory of you—the potential that you may be his ‘soulmate’, a cruel trick played on him by the gods. Except…

Except it isn’t real. It isn’t real. There’s no science backing it up, nothing to concretely prove that the zodiac constellation embedded in his skin has anything to do with his ‘soulmate’—or anyone else’s. It’s just a legend, an old wives tale made up for the romantics and nothing else.

In his alacrity to resist it, he turns fucking ruthless in his verbal assault, but nothing seems to deter you; it barely seems to phase you at all, carrying on your tasks or your cute little babbling as if he hadn’t just insulted you.

Because you’re incessant, almost desperate to gain his approval, continuing to treat him like a god—doing more for him than you do for anyone else, including Daddy—regardless of how many how many expletives and offensive sentiments he hurls at you.

And eventually, he goes a little too far.

    ✰          ✰          ✰ 

The night before Halloween is dark and dreary, thick grey clouds stuffed with rain that continuously drizzles over the estate, brutal winds whipping the tiny droplets against the windowpanes, tiny specks and splatters of water decorating the glass, rearranging themselves every time the wind throws another smattering of rain towards them.

You skip into the living room, full of bashful giggles and muted squeals as Daddy fawns over you, awestricken as he murmurs about how beautiful his princess looks.

His princess.  

Naoya’s not quite sure what you’re supposed to be, nor does he care, tearing his gaze from your scantily clad form before his brain can even register what the costume is, before blood can rush to his cock, before he can witness the shy little smile on your lips and the pretty way your eyes glitter as you twirl for Daddy.

No, the only thing Naoya cares about is the fact that the dress of your costume is way too short to be considered decent, fluffy petticoat barely covering your ass, fanning out to reveal the edges of dainty pink lace clinging to the supple flesh of your ass as you twist and turn.

And he hasn’t a clue what you’re chattering on about, isn’t listening, can’t hear anything over the roar of blood rushing in his ears as he stands from his seat and stomps towards you, strong, callous voice cutting off your excited babbling as he glowers expectantly at his father.

“Jesus Christ, Daddy, you aren’t actually going to let her go out in that, are you?”

“Why?” you ask before your father can respond, genuinely confused, head tilting cutely. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” he repeats incredulously, thick eyelashes fluttering as he blinks several times, eyebrows raising and huffing out a sarcastic laugh in disbelief. “Are you joking?”

Your head shakes slowly, a frown beginning to materialize on your lips as your eyebrows knit.

“It’s entirely inappropriate,” he scoffs, enunciating his words slowly, like you’re stupid.

You stare up at him cautiously, bottom lip jutting out in a pout so deep your chin puckers. “But nii-san, it’s Halloween—”

“Oh? And what are you going as, a slut?”

A little strangled gasp of Naoya-nii! hitches in your throat, your entire expression crumpling at his disapproval, hands running over the costume in an almost protective manner, smoothing it down.

“N-No, I’m—”

“I don’t care,” he hisses. “There’s no way you’re leaving the house in that—go change. Now.”

The direct order surprises you, shock saturating your features before resentment begins to bleed through. Blinking hard, you force the tears from your eyes, expression hardening and shoulders rolling back, spine straightening.

“No.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Is there something wrong with your hearing? I said no,”

That sharp, self-assured smile drops from his face in an instant, face screwing up from such defiance, such disrespect. “Excuse me?”

Shivers skitter up your spine, tiny spikes of ice chasing them, but you refuse to back down, even though your voice is beginning to quiver.

“Y-You’re not Daddy! You don’t get to tell me what to do, I don’t care if you’re older!”

And just like that, the sharp smile is back, stretched abnormally wide across his lips—like it had been cut, carved, into his handsome face—uncanny and inhuman as his eyes glint with malevolence, words flowing from his mouth slowly, calmly, almost serenely, as he prowls towards you.

“You’re right—I’m not Daddy, because I would never let a woman speak to me the way he allows you to speak to him, you ungrateful little brat,”

A large hand, decorated with chunky, glittering gold rings, cuts through the air, striking you across the cheek with such force you stumble backwards from the impact, nearly tripping over your own feet only to have Daddy wrap a strong arm around your waist, catching you with ease and pulling you to his chest.

And it’s intense, so intense it kicks the breath right from your chest, barreling up your throat where you choke on it as it tangles with a sharp yelp. Hands fly to clutch your cheek immediately, throbbing thorns of pain shooting through the side of your face.

Daddy’s yelling, but it all sounds muddled, muffled, like your deep underwater and he’s shouting from above the surface, despite the fact that you’re clinging to him, pressed up so tightly against his side you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his body.

Naoya-nii isn’t saying anything, hand dropped limply to his side, pretty gold adorning his fingers coated in gleaming crimson. He isn’t even looking at Daddy—no, his gorgeous light eyes are focused on you, on the sticky scarlet leaking from the wounds his rings left when they collided with your cheek and the glistening tears shielding your eyes.

And for once, he has nothing to say, no sarcastic remarks or cynical little comments, voice evaporating in his throat as his chest burns, scathed with regret, remorse, repentance—all unwarranted, undeserved, unnecessary. Because—because you earned that slap for being so fucking disrespectful; you needed it, were practically begging him to put you back in your place, back where you belong: below him, behind him, and never beside him.

Because no matter how cute you are, how sweet and precious and good, none of it permits you to speak to him in such a manner, to act as though you’re equal.

So why has this inexplicable agony taken root at his core? Why does he feel like his heart is mutilating itself, tearing itself to shreds, with each of your pitiful little whimpers? Why does he feel the overwhelming urge to make it better, to make your pretty tears and precious sobs stop?

Inevitable anger surges through his veins—furious at you, for eliciting such bothersome emotions; furious at himself, for being so weak, so vulnerable, and allowing such pathetic sentiments to take over, to rob him of his control, of his autonomy.

And despite everything, all of his rage and loathing and confusion, his hand buzzes from it, from the sensation of touching your soft skin for the very first time, even in such a brutal and malicious manner, and instantly, he craves more.

    ✰          ✰          ✰

You don’t speak to him after that. You stop making his favourite meals, stop asking him about his day and then uninvitedly reciting your own in that cute, excited chatter that is so distinctly you, stop doing all of those extra little chores—washing his clothes and changing his sheets and scrubbing his bathroom until it sparkles. You put an end to everything.

And he fucking misses it.

He shouldn’t, but he does.

It’s painful to admit, but he can’t ignore it, notices your lack of presence almost immediately, that gaping void spreading, growing, as it roars in protest, claiming more and more of his body every day, like some sort of inky disease that only your presence seems to calm, to cure.

It fucking sucks. It fucking sucks, because he can’t stop it, regardless of how hard he tries, an impossible ailment he can’t void himself of. It fucking sucks, because you’re eating him up, consuming his very soul, devouring him from the inside out without even sparing him a goddamn glance—and you don’t even know it.

And it’s getting exhausting, putting up this front all the time, fighting against the intense feelings you swirl around in his chest, in his cock, without a hope, without a chance in hell. Fighting for nothing, because he knows he’ll never win. Fighting for nothing, because he isn’t sure he wants to anymore.

They’re unruly, voracious and rabid, tearing up his chest, his lungs and his heart and his throat, with sharp piercing claws and becoming increasingly difficult to overlook, to disregard.

Still, he’s too stubborn, too proud, to give in, to give up, even though the thing living inside him grows stronger every day, even though he knows that one day, it will overpower him.

    ✰          ✰          ✰

It’s windy—the estate quiet as the wind howls softly through the dense pines outside and ruffles them—the night it finally does, the night it takes over entirely, bursting through the barriers he keeps rebuilding and repairing around his soul and his sanity, writhing inside him when he hears soft sobs, muffled by the wood of your bedroom door, just past three in the morning.

It possesses him, like some sort of eternal spirit sinking deep into his bones and sewing itself into his soul, revoking his control over his body as a sudden, intense need to comfort you, to find out what’s wrong and make it all better, courses through his veins, entirely unaware of his actions as he pushes past the door and into your room.

“Naoya-nii?”

It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him, the first time you’ve even looked at him, since he struck you.

And he aches to apologize, I’m sorry’s and I shouldn’t have done that’s blistering his throat as they linger, just behind the back of his tongue.

But his pride outweighs them by a hair, despite how much his chest stings with the need to make things better, to make things right, for a reason unbeknownst to him. It’s just a sense—vague in meaning but strong in feeling—that longs for reconciliation, that’s desperate to rid your pretty face from the permanent scowl his presence etches into it.

That’s the first time he creeps into your room, the first time he loses his autonomy to the thing inside of him as he takes you into his arms and comforts you, the first time he allows you to cum from grinding on his cock.

Except it becomes a habit, an addiction, a nightly routine, cravings becoming stronger and stronger with each passing night. And for a brief span of time, it’s enough to appease the creature, the short nights spent with you in his arms, body trembling against his as you whimper out his name and his honorific, tangling on your tongue.

Because it feels right. It feels righter than anything in his life ever has, uncharacteristically gentle hands guiding your hips as they rock against his, soaked cunt gliding over the flannel of his pajama pants with ease as you huff out the prettiest little mewls into his neck.

It feels right only when he’s here with you, alone with you. Suddenly, it’s like everything makes sense again, like the world is in colour again, like the planet balanced again. He can no longer deny this feeling, this ache deep at the very pit of his soul that throbs and stings and burns mercilessly without your presence. You’re the only thing that can heal it, that can quell it, that can complete it.

So he gives in. It’s just for the nights, he promises himself, vows never to allow such sentiments to trickle into the daytime, to save it for when the sun sinks beneath the horizon, pledges never to permit these nightly escapades to advance from anything more than dry humping, nothing further than your cum on his fingers and your thighs stained with sticky cream.

But eventually, that isn’t enough, either.

And he was stupid to think it would be.

    ✰          ✰          ✰

The harsh slap of Testoni loafers against stone echoes out among the immaculately landscaped front yard, bouncing off thin tree trunks and being absorbed by tall, thick shrubs. Silver light, cast by the haloed moon hanging high in the clear navy sky, illuminates the garden, the foliage faded and washed out, painted by the moonbeams. Somewhere in the distance, the gentle trickle of water mingles with Naoya’s harsh breaths, cellphone gripped tightly in one fist as he paces back and forth like a rabid dog, small rocks popping under his feet.

It’s late. It’s too late—you were supposed to be home hours ago. Naoya’s tried calling—seven times, now, his phone buzzing in his palm to warn him of a low battery—but you haven’t picked up once. But that isn’t new, nor is it unusual; you rarely answer his calls while you’re out with Satoru.

So, really, this shouldn’t be cause for alarm. It shouldn’t.

Except he knows the man you’re out with, knows what you’re doing with him, and he can’t get it out of his fucking head, assaulted with fabricated images of you trapped under a large man with ivory hair and crystal eyes, back arching in ecstasy, his name leaving your lips in the prettiest gasps, in the way Naoya’s name leaves your lips during his habitual sneaking into your room in the middle of the night.

He’s terrified it’s going to drive him insane, eyes pricking and throat burning as his nose twitches with the threat of tears, eyelids shut so tightly his whole face scrunches up, tense and crumpled every time a new wave of contrived memories of you cumming all over that asshole’s cock crash over his mind.

Copper stings his tongue as sharp front teeth nibble at the raw cuticles surrounding his nailbed, face puckering at the taste and ripping his thumb, glistening with saliva, from his mouth.

This is pathetic, goddamn it! It shouldn’t even matter who you’re with and what you’re doing with them, shouldn’t be any of Naoya’s concern at all whether you’re safe or not, shouldn’t fucking hurt nearly as much as it does, a heavy ache that weighs on his chest more and more and more as each second ticks by, ribs caving in and splintering under the force, snapping into sharp spikes that puncture his lungs and make it painful to breathe.

“This is such a waste of fucking time, I don’t even—” he’s muttering to himself when you step out of Satoru’s car, his internal monologue beginning to leak from his head out his lips, your presence immediately cutting it off as his head snaps up, light eyes paler than normal, practically glowing in the moonlight.

A startled little whimper pries its way past your lips when you see him, stomping towards you with a heaving chest and a growl ripping from his throat.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he’s seething as a large hand seizes your arm, wrapping around your bicep and yanking, bring your face closer to his. “Huh? Do you know what fucking time it is?”

Frenzied eyes search your face, wild and erratic in their movements, sharply zeroing in on the tiny galaxies of swirling lilac and cobalt peppered with little pinpricks of scarlet that’ve been sucked into the flesh of your neck.

He chokes on something—a gasp or a snarl or a sob, maybe a mixture of all three, you aren’t entirely sure—pearly teeth gnashing together. “You’re a little slut,” he spits the word out like venom, harsh and biting as it whizzes past your cheek, slicing into your skin.

“That’s it, that’s all—that’s all you’re fucking good for,” his grip tightens with each word that flows from his mouth. “At least you’ve picked a rich man to sell your pussy to, at least you aren’t a total idiot, just like your mother, huh?”

“What is your problem?” little hands claw at the fingers latched around you, finally breaking free from him, ripping your limb from his grasp with such vigor you nearly fall on your ass, teetering backwards on unsteady feet. “You know, just because you can’t own up and face your feelings, doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. This,” you gesture between the two of you. “Isn’t my fault.”

“This?” he spits, face screwing up in scorn. “There is no this,”

“Oh my God,” eyes rolling, you shake your head, exhaling a dubious laugh. “Shut up. There’s no one here—you can be real with me, I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you snark, arms crossing over your chest as you level your gaze with him.

He glares back at you, sharp jaw rhythmically clenching and unclenching with the grinding of his molars, large hands balled into tight, trembling fists on either side of his body.

“You know there’s something here, between us, within us, even if you refuse to admit it,” you continue after a beat of silence, voice softening.

His whole form is beginning to quiver and he jerkily shakes his head, exhaling harshly. You think he may be crying, but in the faint moonlight it’s hard to be sure.

Holding your wrist up, you swallow thickly, glancing at those little bumps embedded in your skin, watching the tiny shadows that form when your arm twists. “I have your sign,” your voice is quiet as you look back at him, flashing the inside of your wrist to him. “And I know you have mine,”

A cynical smirk spreads across his lips, but it looks more like a grimace, like a flimsy mask desperately attempting to cover something else, tongue tutting in disbelief. “Yeah, and there’s millions of people in this world with any given sign. It’s all bullshit—it could be anyone,”

“It could be anyone,” you agree, nodding. “But it isn’t.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! I know you feel it too! Christ, why are you so—so adamant on denying this, even when it’s just the two of us? What’s the point?”

“You’re my fucking sister, that’s the point. This is inappropriate, it’s wrong,”

“If it’s so wrong, then why do you sneak into my bedroom every night? Why do you let me cum on your fingers? Why do you fuck my thighs?” your footsteps speed up, jogging a little to catch up to him. “Huh? Huh? No answer? Or do you know the answer, and you’re too afraid to say it?”

“I don’t know!” he explodes, whirling around on you and trapping you against the brick, palms laid flat against the wall. “Alright? I don’t fucking know why I do those things. They make me feel sick afterwards, but I…”

But I can’t stop.

But I need you.

But I love you.

Chests heave with harsh exhales that mingle and echo in the garden, your eyes studying his face intently, in a way that makes him feel naked, exposed, makes him want to turn and hide from you.

“I’m not asking—” you start, words catching in your throat and blinking hard to clear rapidly welling tears from your eyes. Your voice is softer, more fragile and weak, when you speak again. “You don’t have to marry me, for Christ’s sake. I just—I just want you to—I need to know you feel it too,”

“Why?” he hisses, acidic envy bubbling in his chest, beginning to erode his resolve, walls crumbling to rubble. “What is there to know? You already have him,”

“But I’d rather have you,” the words materialize on your tongue before you even know what you’re saying, earnest eyes boring into his.

“God, don’t—” eyelids shut tightly, lithe fingers tangling in blonde hair and tugging. “Don’t say shit like that,”

He can feel them, those three little words thrashing in his chest, desperate to claw up his throat and spill from his lips, but he grits his teeth and swallows them back down, letters lodging and forming a painful lump.

And you notice. You notice, because you’ve studied him extensively, have learned to read him—his mannerisms, expressions, behaviours—well.

And you’ve just found his weakness.

“Do you want to know what I think of when he fucks me?” you ask, eyes searching his face in an almost frenzied manner, breath accelerating as you quickly push the words from your lips, worried if you don’t speak fast enough, if you don’t vocalize these sentiments now, you’ll lose him again. “It’s you. It’s always you. I’ve tried—I’ve tried to think of someone else, of anyone else, but you just…you just won’t leave my brain! It’s like a—a sickness, or something. Like a chronic illness, and it’s only getting worse,”

A strangled growl rattles in his chest as he tears himself away from you, fists violently rubbing at his eyes.

He knows. He knows, because he’s tried the same thing, attempted to desperately forget you, to disintegrate the weird feelings you endlessly evoke in his chest by losing himself in women night after night, often multiple women at once, drowning himself in their moans and gasps and soft bodies to no avail.

“There’s no cure,”

He doesn’t even mean to say it, words slipping from his lips unconsciously as he gets tangled in his thoughts, flipping through the countless memories of faceless women of all shapes and sizes, faceless woman that somehow always mange to morph into you.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head. “There isn’t. But at least I’m trying!”

He spins around, gleaming eyes flashing, brimming with bewilderment, features falling in surprise for just a moment before they harden again, varnished in offense.

“What’re you talking about,” he seethes, eyebrows furrowing deeply as his eyes narrow into sharp slits, scrutinizing, analyzing, dissecting.

“I-I’d rather have you, yes, and he’ll—no one will ever compare, will ever even come close to how much I—” you cut yourself off, swallowing the thought, then clearing your throat and beginning again. “At least I’m trying to find someone, though. At least I’m trying to find just a shred of what I feel for you, instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, alone and miserable,”

“Oh,” he laughs humorlessly, a callous little sound that viciously tears from his chest, that scrapes his throat and comes out strangled, full of incredulity. “You don’t think I’ve tried? You don’t think I’ve tried endlessly to forget you? To cleanse you from my mind? To move the fuck on from something that had never begun in the first place? You’ve imprinted yourself in the tissues of my fucking brain in a matter of months. It’s tiring. It’s hopeless,”

His voice breaks on the last word, some of the merciless heat fading from his features as he glares at you, eyes almost pleading for you to understand.

Because you’re the only one that can.

You’ve been in this together the entire time, right from the start, from the moment you walked through that front door.

And he’s been resisting it, fighting against it, against himself, all while the current only becomes stronger, only continues to grow in strength and size, and he’s motherfucking exhausted at this point, sick of battling some invisible force he was convinced didn’t even exist, sick of waging a war he will forever be destined to lose.

You’ve broken that wall, shattered it to dust, destroyed all of his weapons of defense and robbed him of his sovereignty, and now it’s all pouring form his mouth, an endless, uncontrollable stream of confessions, of thoughts and desires, of agony and misery.

“But it doesn’t even fucking matter, because I love you. I love you and I fucking hate you for it. And I’ve been trying, alright? I’ve tried not to, I’ve tried every single trick in the fucking book to stop it, to get over you, to forget you—and none of it has ever fucking worked, not even for a second. I don’t want you; I—I don’t want to be, but I’m in love with you,”

It looks as though your breathing has ceased, chest halting in its rapid movements, body gone still, static, stagnant. Your silence is deafening, has his ears ringing and his heart pounding, thrashing against his ribs as it aimlessly attempts to crawl through the cage, to present itself to you, bloody and beating and all yours. It’s all yours—take it, kill it, end its suffering.

“And there’s nothing—”

Surging forward, your lips crash into his, body following as it smacks against his own, effectively cutting him off. Naoya freezes, eyes wide and breathing stopped, entire body turned to ice, rigid and tense, but you are not deterred, arms winding around his neck as fingers thread through the gold and ink at the base of his skull.

“I love you, too,” you mumble into the kiss, refusing to break contact for even a second, lips brushing his as you speak. “I love you so much,”

The confession—an admission he already knew, deep down in his very bones, an admission he can no longer ignore, now that you’ve said it—snaps him out of his trance, and something switches, something breaks. Because then he’s kissing you back, tongue forcing its way through your lips to assault your own as calloused hands find purchase on your hips, squeezing your flesh hard enough that you yelp.

He chuckles against your lips, and then he’s pushing forward, forcing you to walk backwards, too fast for you to keep up, his legs longer than yours, body bigger than yours, stronger than yours.

Even with all of his shoving, you still aren’t moving quick enough for him, clumsy and stumbling over your own feet, whimpering hushed apologies into his mouth, a response to the growls that rumble in his chest each time you trip, your pitiful little sorry!’s consistently being cut off by his tongue.

Large hands hoist you up without breaking the kiss, mouth still attempting to devour you whole, to suck up your very soul, and your legs automatically wrap around his waist, latching onto him.

Either of your bedrooms are too far, and he can’t take it, he can’t wait—not with the way your fingers are tangling in his shirt and tugging, the way needy little whines are hitching in your throat, the way you’re squirming in his grasp, trying to grind against his half-hard cock.

You’re fucking desperate, but so is he, thigh whacking off the edge of the wooden coffee table as he blindly staggers towards the kitchen, tongue hungrily dragging against yours while he does so.

The cold marble stings your skin as he deposits you onto the nearest countertop, hips wedged between your thighs keeping them spread.

Little fingers immediately go for his belt, nonsensical whimpers sounding in the back of your throat as you fumble and struggle, hooking your fingers through his beltloops and pulling.

“Eager girl,” he chastises, a little breathless as nimble fingers find the soaked lace at the apex of your thighs, pushing it to the side. “Nii-san has to prep you first,”

“No,” you whine, pitched high and much too loud. “M’wet enough. Want you, want you now, nii-san, please, just give it to me, been waiting so long, please,”

The words are slurred together as they tumble from your lips, infused with a potent lust that casts a dense haze over your mind, rendering you capable of only focusing on what you need.

Light eyes dart up, holding yours through fanned lashes for a moment, as if they’re searching for any hesitancy, before his lips form the most genuine smile he’s ever given you.

“Yeah?” he huffs out, finally breaking your stare to watch his hands undo his belt, continuing to speak as he shoves his jeans down his thighs and frees his cock. “You think you can take it?”

“Yes, nii-san,” you nearly mewl, gazing at him with blown, glazed eyes and a cute pout. “Please, give it to me, I-I want it, please,”

His gaze finally flicks up, that sincere smile stretched wider across his face, a playful glint in his eye, voice void of any of its usual derision. “You want what? Hmm, baby? Come on, nii-san wants to hear you say it,”

A low whimper leaves your throat and you shift on the countertop, as if trying to wiggle closer to him. “Your cock, nii-san, want your cock, please-please-please, gimme-gimme-gimme,”

It sounds as though you’re close to tears, voice cracking and thick with desire, Naoya’s cock twitching in his palm in response to the sound, and, God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that, absolutely adores it when you beg, thinks you sound so pretty when you’re pleading for him.

“You’re a greedy little girl, you know that?” he pants while he pushes in, a muffled yelp prying past your lips. “Shh, hush now, nii-san will give you what you need,”

The stretch is incredible, cute little cunt throbbing around his thick cock as it struggles to adjust to the sudden intrusion, feeling as though he’s going to tear you into two, leaving stinging micro-fissures in the delicate flesh.

Yet despite the burn, the ache that settles deep in your core, that feels like he’s splitting you in half, a satisfied moan leaves your lips, head falling forward and resting against his broad shoulder, fingers curling in the cotton that adorns his torso and pulling him closer, closer, closer.

Because, finally, you feel whole, more whole than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, satisfying an inexplicable desire buried at the crux of your very soul, something you didn’t even realize you were missing until you finally had it.

“S’not enough,” you mumble into him, nuzzling your face against him like a cat. “Need more, nii-san, need more,”

“You really are a selfish little fucking brat,” he grunts as fingers flex on your hips, tips digging into the pliant flesh and gripping, singeing his name into your skin in rapidly blossoming indigo and ultramarine.

“Nii-san was going to try and be nice,” the words, strained and husky, spill from plush lips as his hips begin to thrust, slow and hard, winding back as they draw the force to ram forward, slamming a cry from your chest as his cockhead pounds against your cervix. “But you’re too impatient for that, aren’t you?”

It’s a fucking lie; his self-control had been hanging by a thread, barely restraining the primal need to wildly buck into you, but you just snapped it, just tore the last of his treasured discipline to fucking shreds with nothing more than a few words.

The pace is ruthless, your head bouncing off the cabinets with each powerful snap of his hips, an endless stream of cries pouring from your lips, one hand curling around the edge of the counter as the other grips his shoulder, nails burying themselves in the hard muscle through the thin cotton of his shirt. Sharp bones carve a spot just for him, made for him, between your legs, into the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” he pants out, eyes so bright they’re practically glowing. “Mine.”

“Yours!” you gasp out, head nodding in sloppy little movements against his shoulder as you fall forward, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Yours, yours, yours,”

Everything feels hazy, almost dreamlike in a sense, vision blurring over with a thick shield of tears that you can’t quite explain, his name and the honorific becoming muddled on your tongue, fusing into one as you wail it out, clinging to him in a way that’s almost possessive.

“Nii-san’s here,” he promises you, voice hoarse. “Nii-san’s yours, too,”

“Mine,” the arms thrown around his neck tighten, fingers tangling in soft gold and wrinkled cotton. “Mine, mine, mine—”

“Mine,” he echoes, hips never faltering even as you wind your body around his, large hands keeping your hips still as he fucks into you. “And only mine—”  

“Forever and ever and ever—”

“You belong to me, were made for me, put on this earth for me,”

Words of confirmation are escaping from your lips, you’re absolutely sure of it, can feel them vibrating up your throat as you speak them—but it’s so much, too much, all of the feelings swirling around in your chest, sending spikes of pleasure and thorns of pain shooting through your veins as they clash together. A sudden wooziness settles over you, brain fogging over as he becomes the only thing you can think of, the only thing you want to think of, nonsensical babbling still slipping from between parted lips in hitched puffs of breath.

“So full,” you nearly sob, one of Naoya’s hands tangling in the hair at the back of your skull and yanking, pulling your face from the sanctuary of his neck and exposing your expressions to his scrutinizing eyes, devouring the beautiful tears streaking your cheeks, the contorting of your features as pleasure washes over them. “M’so full, nii-san, it’s so much,”

“Yeah? Better than he could ever stuff you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re wailing out, affirmations falling from your lips with each brutal piston of his hips. “More, need more,”

Because it’s like an addiction, an innate need for more of him, for all of him, ravenous and unquenchable, that’s always existed within you, that his cock stretching you out, filling you up, has only just awakened.

His aura is positively intoxicating, overwhelming your senses and becoming all you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell, taste, touch. His taste lingers on your tongue, faint notes of minty pine and sharp nicotine dancing with your tastebuds; his touch brands itself into you, bruises and bitemarks carving his name into soft skin; his scent assaults you, envelops you, overpowers everything else as it wraps you in a shackled embrace of expensive aftershave and cedar wood.

A growl tears from his chest, so rough that it vibrates throughout his entire body, and his pace quickens, cock plunging into you and an incredible speed, dragging against that one spot that has you nearly screaming, that has your eyes rolling back and your little hole fluttering around him as a blistering fire sparks to life in the pit of your belly.

You can feel it, furling in on itself with each vicious rut of his hips, each relentless bang of his cockhead against your cervix, a concentrated ball of scathing heat pulsing, quaking in your stomach as it curls tighter and tighter and tighter with each plunge forward—until it bursts, a fiery explosion that buzzes through your veins as your cunt clenches, gushing on his cock as he praises you—yeah, that’s it, make a mess on nii-san—entire body coiling from the sheer strength.

“Tell me,” he keens almost desperately, voice pulling you from the clutches of post-orgasm unconsciousness, hips stuttering for a moment before he regains his finesse. “Tell me how badly you need it,”

And you don’t need to be told what, pleads pouring from your mouth in an instant, before your brain can even comprehend what you’re saying, an instinctual reaction to his command. “Need your cum, nii-san, need you to full me up, fill my tummy with it, stuff me full of it, need it so bad, nii-san, please gimme your cum, please, please,”

The words are all jumbled together, thick with tears and wet with saliva and imbued with delirium, quivering and breaking as your body trembles from overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he chokes on the curse, hips stilling, pressed flush against your ass as his cock throbs, filling you with spurt after spurt of thick cum, a broken whine catching in his throat as endless words spill from yours, peppered with the sweetest moans—yes, nii-san, thank you, nii-san, fill me up, fill my body with it, my brain with it, I need it, I need it.

And he does, pumps you full of so much that it begins leaking out from your abused little hole—still stuffed with him—and down his cock.

And it’s then—after he has filled you up, with your precious little cunt still pulsing around his length, whimpering out his honorific as you hold onto him, voice raw and wrecked and cracking with residual tears—then that Naoya’s sure you were meant for him, made for him, perfectly tailored to him; he knows you were, his very own gift from the gods.  

[serendiquity]

Remembrance

Sometimes, when it rained, Heathcliff couldn’t help but think of you. He’d trace the picture framed on his desk, the one that showed the three of you as children, laughing and playing together without a care in the world. It hurt to remember. It pained him to see your smiling face, beaming up at him as if everything was fine again. You were probably an adult now, weren’t you? He wondered if you had accomplished your dream, if you were happy now that you were gone. 

He let out a long sigh, slumping down in his seat. What did you look like now? Would you still hold that innocent gleam in your eyes, wearing your emotions on your sleeve? Or had you changed just as he had, becoming quiet and solemn? 

The faint scent of cinnamon and sugar wafted in from downstairs, a fond memory of times long past. Heathcliff closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember. 

“Shino, stop! You’re doing it wrong. That’s not flour, it’s baking soda!” About the time they had tried to bake, ending up in a mess and a food fight. 

“Waaah! “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please calm down! I’ll give you some of my pie!” When he looked out the window to see you crying in the garden with a wide-eyed Shino. 

“...” The day you disappeared without a trace. It was funny how his memory worked. Sometimes, he could see that moment with razor-sharp clarity, as if it were happening before his eyes. On others, he could barely remember, mind only managing to create fuzzy silhouettes. Even so, a few things always remained the same. 

He imagined himself back then, frozen in the doorway of your empty room. It was bare of everything except for a single resignation letter neatly folded and placed on the bed. His hands trembled as he reached for it, head light with nausea. He opened the letter. 

Heathcliff had spent that day locked in his room, staring listlessly at the ceiling. And so it went, day after day, as he listened to his parents argue about him in hushed tones. He couldn’t bring himself to truly care, the same words repeating in his mind like a sickening mantra. Why did you leave? What did he do wrong? What happened?

Tap, tap, tap. Outside his window, something knocked against the glass. Blearily, he stumbled over and slid open the curtains, only to slam them back closed immediately after. 

“Heath! Let me in, everyone’s worried about you!” Shino resumed banging on the window, even harder now. 

“Go away. I’m fine.” His voice sounded childish and petulant, even to him. 

“I’ll break down your window if you don’t.” 

A frown. 

“... You wouldn’t.” 

“Stop.” Thump. “Being.” Thump. “So.” Thump. “Stubborn!” The black-haired youth crashed through the window, tumbling into the room. Then, ignoring his scratches and the screams coming from outside, he proceeded to tell Heathcliff off. 

It had been an exceptionally daring act, even for Shino. Both of them ended up scolded for weeks after, and Shino had barely managed to escape punishment. Still, as he thought, he felt warmth welling up inside him, lips unconsciously forming an exasperated smile. 

Shino had become furious after he heard his thoughts. “Stop blaming yourself.” It was your fault you left. It was your betrayal, not his. You promised you trusted him, and he’d given you his heart, only to see it thrown at his feet and shattered into dust. 

Shino was… so much stronger than him. He had been hurt just as much as Heathcliff had been, but he still stood up straight. Unlike him, who had broken down in tears, Shino had continued on with his duties, protecting Blanchett Castle with an unyielding conviction. He was the only one too weak to let go. 

Compared to him, Heathcliff couldn’t help but feel pathetic. He was supposed to be Shino’s master, yet he was always the one being protected. He wanted to become stronger. He wanted to hold the same strength that Shino did, one that would allow him to not be ashamed when standing by his side. One that would make him worthy of Shino’s loyalty, of his respect. 

It would take a while, but he had to start somewhere. 

He had decided. For Shino’s sake and his. From this point on, he would no longer think of you.

[adelaidedrubman]

2,9,11,19,28,33 for the writer’s asks?

thank you amanda these were super fun ones!! sorry for the amount of times i bring up riverdale.

2. Anything that you’d like to write but feel like you’re unable to?

the concept i have for telling jenna and faith’s getting together story is something i feel unequipped to write, because i have the idea to do it as an epistolary work of sorts, told primarily through like, jenna’s research notes and possibly faith’s stray letters out to tracey or other folks. but it’s just such a different form of writing than i’m used to and the time it would take to orient myself to that method of storytelling is probably not worth it.

9. Thoughts on cliffhangers.

fine, as long as they aren’t used in a cheap, obviously there just to manufacture tension way. i’ve had plenty “find out next time on dragon ball z” moments myself. basically i think as long as you don’t make it like a riverdale episode you’re fine — if the build up feels like a natural progression of the tension and not just like you threw in a “and prom’s tomorrow!” as a cheap trick to make people hungry for more.

11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated.

soulmate aus soulmate aus soulmate aus. i’m sure there are some compelling, beautiful pieces out there but i’ll never find out. sorry i love divorce and i love love as a free, often stupidly made choice. (unless you count my mary may is the reincarnation of biblical cain and is cosmically linked to johnjess as eternal punishment as she wanders the earth through multiple lifetimes always to encounter them thing as a soulmate au.)

also i think like, “fix it fics” are fine in theory and i enjoy some but so often the effect is just completely draining canon of everything that made it compelling and emotionally engaging in the first place. like we don’t have to jettison everything into children’s cartoon story rules to have an overall happy ending if that’s what you want to change. a lot of what those fics are fixing ain’t actually broke imo. nothing wrong with it if that’s the stakes people want, but i like a little tragedy.

also, love triangles, if i don’t trust the author and know they’ll do something meaningful and fresh with it i’m just completely disinterested. too often they’re just an excuse to put down one character or just throw a lot of toxic jealousy and possessiveness out there for The Drama™ without exploring it as an interesting theme or character flaw.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

“No,” she scoffed in repetition. “No way in hell I’m ever coming back here willingly,” she spat. “This is your one get. And I’m not gonna change my clothes either, daddy,” she tacked on with a defiant upward shove of her chin, ensuring, of course, that not one request went without being spitefully disrespected. “I wore this shirt ‘cause I plan on going fishing as soon as I’m done here, in case you didn’t bother gettin’ your mind out of the gutter long enough to read and realize it’s a fishing shirt, and not everything’s about you and your stupid church club.”

“Oh, trust me I read it.”

“Pleasantly surprised to find you’re fucking literate after all. I’ll keep that in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m missin’ the service,” she finally sneered before shoving past him towards the door.

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

if you’re stuck on a project, work on something low stakes or whatever happens to scratch your brain the right way to get remotivated, try something that gives writing a renewed novelty or fills the void of whatever you think is missing in your main work. (the johnjess 100k holding hands only marathon is sustained by frequent au smut oneshots.)

and watch riverdale that’s not a joke it legit helps me i will be like “ooooooh my pacing sucks so bad it’s so slow” and “waaah my characterization is so shitty i am a flop at character nuance” and “booooo showing and not telling is stupid i hate showing and not telling” and i will watch riverdale and remember why these things are important and that i’m not completely flopping at them. i cannot stress how important it is to watch riverdale.

33. Give your writing a compliment.

i think i’m really good at threading humor throughout! like, not just the snappy banter, but the subtle ridiculousness of the characters that seeps into everything they do. like the funniest wildfire moments to me are always tiny things you could blink and miss, like the image of jessie scarfing down a bag of communion wafers like chips as she yells about the fucking gas station.

[artnigth]

Migraines Part 3 (Final)

Took longer that I expected to finish this but I made it! This is the final part of this four day project of mine! Enjoy!! 

MIGRAINES PART 3:

It was a lovely spring day, the flower were blooming, bees buzzing, and the fair had just moved into a lovely small-ish town in the middle of Oregon. The fair brought hundreds of shows and games with it, among those hundreds of shows were The Aquatos, a family of acrobats with a taste for danger. Their booth was up and running, the show was about to start. A thirteen-year-old Dion was waiting in the backstage area of the Aquatodome. His legs shaking, his stomach turning and the world was starting to spin. He wasn’t nervous though, he had performed for way bigger audiences in other cities. It was the whispers, voices echoing on his mind, scaring him of the gibberish they were saying. This happened every once in a while but never this strong or whenever his family was about to perform. This made him panic. Frazie and Raz, who were nine and seven years old, were stretching with Donatella. Agustus was checking the nets and safety measures to make sure nothing went wrong. While Nonna was looking after the two youngest kids in the family, Mirtala who was almost three, and Queepie who was just six months old. “Okay Aquatos! Everyone go to your positions were starting this show!”- Donatella sounded determined and excited, like always. Dread filled his system as he walked into the stage alongside two of his siblings, the whispers becoming louder with each step, so much his ears started to ring. Donatella’s voice becoming muted, the world spinning and his skin becoming pale. Nevertheless, the show started.

The show was going well enough, the Aquatos pirouetted and performed like they had all done ever since Dion had memory. Then the final trick of the show rolled around “The Aquato Tower” the voices claimed all of Dion’s attention, he tried his best but the sounds around him became muted, he was standing on his father's shoulders who was standing on his mother's feet who was upsidedown. Dion was balancing Raz on his head, and Raz was supporting Frazie with his arms as she stood upsidedown. Sweat dripped down Dion’s forehead, his head ached enough with the voices, but with his two younger siblings on top of him, the pain became almost unbearable. Now came the final part of the trick that would close the show. Frazie jumped and landed all the way to the right, Raz flipped on his head and proceeded to jump off, landing right next to Frazie. Dion’s turn, his stomach was up on his throat, his mind was breaking and his world was becoming a hurricane of colors and shapes. But he still pulled through, Dion climbed into his father’s head and he jumped. Spinning on the air Dion lost focus for a couple of seconds the feeling of gravity pulling him to the ground snapping him back to reality, Dion landed on his feet right next to Raz. But the world didn’t stop spinning, the voices didn’t stop and his throat threatened to spill all his lunch on the stage. “THANK YOU FOR COMING!!”- his mother’s voice broke his daze, and along with his family, he bowed down and walked back into the backstage. Dion fell on his knees, his breathing unbalanced and too fast for someone his age. His father carried him all the way to the family's caravan and placed the boy on his wore down bed and helped him breathe as Dion passed out. 

Hours passed and in the middle of the night Dion woke up. He saw four of his five siblings sleeping peacefully around him. His youngest sibling was obviously in his cradle that was placed in the living room of the caravan. Dion snuck out of the room to go to the bathroom, stopping in front of his parent's room. The muffled voices of his parents leaking through the door. Dion got closer curious about what they could be arguing about at this hour. 

 “Don’t be ridiculous, he can’t be!” said his father with indignation on his tone.

 “It could be! Augustus, my love. Neither of us knows how the curse could evolve with time. Your mother isn’t explaining anything and Dion was completely fine this morning. He described voices in his head, he could be suffering from a worst version of your family’s curse.” His mother was scared, even though she wasn’t an Aquato by blood the curse could still work on her, though no one except Nonna knew for sure. “Think about it, it’s exactly the type of trick those dammed fortune tellers would pull. Cursing a bloodline to die in water and then turning all generations that follow into people like them. Making the presence of the curse unforgettable, and cursing said children with nightmarish torments, like what’s happening to-

Dion ran down the stair, he wouldn’t let the end of that sentence haunt the rest of his life. He grabbed a bag and began to pack food, water, and some medicine. He finally knew what he was, part of a curse to his family. Well, he wasn’t about to help that fucking curse kill his whole family. Even if it meant never seeing Nonna, his parents, or his siblings ever again, he wouldn’t allow it. Tears were building up in his eyes, he brushed them away with his sleeve. He couldn’t afford to make any noise or to break down at that moment. 

In a hurry Dion let a bottle of water fall on the floor of the living room. He froze, waiting for someone to catch him, for someone to show up and do something to stop him. 

Nothing…

With a sigh, Dion picked up the bottle from the ground and continued his way to the door. “Waaah?” a high-pitched voice sounded behind Dion, Queepie was awake. His small hands rising to try and grab Dion not realizing how far away he really was. Dion turned to look at his youngest brother. His innocent eyes reflecting Dion’s miserable expression. Turning away was hard but Dion barely managed. Queepie saw his oldest brother turning away and started to cry. Queepie was a baby, he was awake and Dion was the only person around. So at the sight of him leaving the baby started to cry. With a hand on the door Dion dropped his bag and pushes it under the small sofa they had. He made his way to the cradle and picked up his brother, trying to calm him down. Eventually, Dion started to softly cry alongside his brother hugging him tight and letting the night pass. Quietly promising to do whatever he could to fix himself, to keep his family together no matter what. 

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

Four years had passed since that secret incident, it was a summer morning. Dion and the rest of his siblings were woken up by Mirtala’s sobbing. The little six-year-old held a piece of paper to dear life, and Frazie noticed Razputin was nowhere in sight. “Tala what´s wrong?” Dion stood up to check on Mirtala, half asleep but still very much concerned. Mirtala showed him the note, still bawling her eyes out. He took the note and started to read. Every word from that letter felt like a punch in the gut mixed with a stab in the heart. When he finished he felt numb. In such shock that the concept of his little brother running away to who knows where hadn’t been fully processed. 

“What does it say?!” Frazie said while shaking him out of his daze. Rage was the only feeling he could suddenly feel, he handed Frazie the letter and made his way outside before he took it out on his other siblings. Going down the stair he listened as Frazie screamed from their room out of, rage? sadness? He didn’t know and he couldn’t help anyway so why should he care? When Dion was finally in the living room he proceeded to ignore his parent’s questions and just ran outside. 

 Dion grabbed a stone and threw it into oblivion, doing the same thing with every other rock he found in the valley they had temporarily settled to rest. 

 Tears ran down his face the more rocks he threw, sadness and grief mixed with his rage, the voices coming back as a result. It had been months since he had heard those whispers, he thought he had finally fixed himself. But now they were back and he felt hopeless. He fell to his knees and just sobbed. He failed on the one thing he wanted to make sure he didn’t. One piece of his family was gone and they didn’t even get to know why. Razputin never mentioned where he was going, just that he was done and couldn’t take it anymore. His mother slowly walked out of their caravan and went to check on him. Her eyes red made it obvious she had been crying as well. She knelt next to him and hugged him as he continued to cry in her arms.

 .

 .

 .

 .

Now he was walking with Gisu in the Forgetful Forest at night, her scarf was placed on his shoulders and they were still holding hands. Gisu’s hair was a pulled-back mess, the only thing keeping it from tangling was her now loose ponytail. His hair wasn’t much better, his ponytail was holding it together but his bangs were a curly mess hanging in front of his face. His eyes were red, he had finally stopped crying, but the tear marks were still fresh on his face. Gisu’s skateboard was following them not far behind, cracks showing in its surface. The whispers were still there, they weren’t leaving this time and Dion knew that. They walked all the way in silence and Dion already suspected that Gisu would probably not want to see him ever again after this mess. The idea almost brought him to tears once again. They were reaching the limit of the forest to the campgrounds where his family was located. Dread built up in him as he saw the people who were there. His mother sitting on the floor being comforted by his father, Frazie was comforting Queepie and Mirtala was checking on Nonna as she sat on a bench looking concerned. Guilt crept into his mind since he just killed his grandmother’s boyfriend. And that was a really weird thought.

 At the sight of his family, Dion stopped walking, stoping Gisu with him. “What’s wrong?” she said in a soft tone. “I can’t… Not after what I did.” He sounded altered, the events of that afternoon coming back to his mind in a painful flash. “C’mon I’m sure your family will be glad that you’re okay. And if something happens I’ll cover your back!” The same soft smirk that she met him with in the clear was placed on her face. That cursed smirk always managed to comfort Dion, he had no idea how. “okay…” They moved forward towards the light from outside the forest. And for the first time in four years, Dion wishes he had actually left on that spring night.

Never has Dion been tackled into a hug by Frazie. His sisters arms crushing his ribcage. “YOU IDIOT, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!! QUEEPIE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD” Her tone made it obvious that it wasn’t just Queepie who thought that. “I’m sorry Frazie” he hugged her back softly, too tired to come up with a snarky response. Dion looked past Frazie and met Queepies tearful stare. “I’m sorry Queepie.” His youngest brother tackling them both in another hug. “DION AQUATO!!” Augustus’ voice rumbled through the campgrounds, his tome mixed enough that his emotions were impossible to tell. Both of the Aquato parents run and tackle three of their children, by this moment Mirtala quietly joins the hug. 

 “DION!!!” Raz came out of nowhere and kicks his brother in the knee, hard enough to make his presence clear but soft enough to not actually hurt him. Joining his family in the group hug even if for only a second. 

 Nonna stayed close but didn’t join the hug. Ford was nowhere to be seen. Gisu stood at the boundary of the forest glad that this situation didn’t backfire. “Son, why didn’t you tell us?”Augustus’ voice had calmed down and was very concerned. “I… what do you mean?” Dion was confused but he got what his father meant. “Ford ended up landing here and told us everything” Donatella was clearly tired since they had been looking Dion for hours. “… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Dion started to cry again, Gisu wondered if he needed a glass of water since he had been crying so much in the last couple of hours. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t… Nonna I’m so sorry…”

 This took everyone by surprise, why Nonna specifically. He scared all of them half to death after all. “Dion explain yourself.” Frazie was paniking a little. Because, well, Dion disappeared for an entire afternoon. Then Ford finds him and gets thrown all the way to the campgrounds. And finally, Gisu, who looks like she just survived a tornado, finds him broken and desperate. “I… I… I killed Ford cruller…”

Silence 

“What?” everyone said in unison. What did he just say? Killed Ford cruller… “Oh, Dion… You didn’t kill Ford cruller. As I said Ford landed here and told us everything. I don’t think he could have told us you were lost if he was dead.” 

 “What?” Dion was dumbfounded. He should have asked Gisu… He should have definitely asked Gisu. All this time… Literal hours of unending misery, and he didn’t even kill the guy. “Are you sure? A hundred percent sure?” 

 “Unless I’m a ghost their pretty sure, boy.” Ford cruller appeared from the forest and stood next to Gisu. “By the way Razputin, I might be back at my prime as a psychic but I’m still sixty-two years old. I can’t suddenly start sprinting out of nowhere.”

 “I didn’t kill anybody… Good god, I’m the worst.” The Aquatos finally separated the massive group hug and let Dion make his way to Ford. “Agent cruller I’m so sorry for… throwing you all the way here from the forest. And for screaming at you.” Dion meant this, he felt guilty not just for what he did to Ford but for what he did to everyone. “It’s okay boy, I understand. Things are obviously still tense and it’s fine, you’re a teenager I know how hard it can be. Especially as a psychic. Which speaking of...” Ford reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cloth bag. Opening the bag, there were five small purple rocks. Psitanium. Cruller took one out of the bag and placed it on Dion’s hand. “Now focus your mind on this little piece of psitanium. Think of nothing but this little piece.”

 Dion did as he was told, focusing all of his attention on that little piece. The constant whispers fading into the back of his mind, and for the first time in the whole day, Dion felt relief. But now, he needed to face the music. He was truly a psychic and this was his life now. “Did the voices stop?” Asked Ford. “Yes… They’re gone…” 

“Well, here you go.” Ford handed Dion that little bag. “If you or any of your siblings have an issue with their abilities. You can use one of those bad boys to help and dull them down a little.” Dion was speechless, he felt no words would be able to convey how many mixed feelings he had at that moment. “thank you…”

“Mom, can we have dinner now?” Queepie broke the silence. Leave it to a toddler to break the awkward silence. “Yes Queepie, we can have dinner now…”

 Everyone sighed and began to move towards the caravan, with Ford, Dion, and Gisu staying behind. “Gisu, Ford would you like to stay for dinner?” Augustus’ voice was kind of tense but it was mostly kind. “Actually dad… I think Gisu needs to leave. We’ve been taking too much of her time.” Dion’s voice was soft, not rude at all. Gisu knew that. “Yeah… Thank you for the offer but I need to get back home before Sam locks me out.” Gisu understood and started to walk out of the campgrounds. Dion following behind. “I’ll go with her to the bus stop, I’ll be back soon. I promise.” 

 .

 .

 .

 .

 The campgrounds were left behind them as they walked back to the Motherlobe. They once again walk in silence, an awkward silence this time. Gisu’s scarf was still over Dion’s shoulders. A couple of steps more and she’ll be gone, on a bus to the nearest town over for the night. Dion had so much to say and so little time. 

 “I’m sorry” 

 “For what?”

 “For today, for everything.”

 “Everything?”

 Dion fell silent. This is what he needed to do. After all she did for him, apologizing was the least he could do. “Calling you in the morning to hang out just to dip last minute, almost throwing you into oblivion in the forest, annoying you about my stupid psychic theories… and everything else…” Dion was calm, trying to mentally prepare himself for Gisu’s response. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize” “Yes I do! I wasted your time with my stupid crisis. You don’t deserve to be bothered with my issues…” Dion was determined to make his point clear. This was one part of his life he never wanted to regret. “… If I’m here is because I want to be, no one forced me to stay and wait for you. No one forced me to look for you, I wanted to because I care about you, Dion.” Her tone was warm and sad. Gisu’s mind was more at peace about what happened than Dion’s, she knew what her objective was in this whole situation. She just wanted Dion to be okay and she trusted his family to make sure he gets the treatment he needs. 

 They were now on the Motherlobe’s bus stop. The bus would arrive shortly. Dion took Gisu’s scarf and placed it on her shoulders in silence. He grabbed her hair and fixed it into her typical ponytail. He made his way to her bangs and fixed their shape pulling them out of her face. Both of their cheeks tuning a litte red from embarrassment during the process. In the end, Gisu looked like she did at the beginning of the day. “Thank you. For everything.” “What do you mean by everything now?” Gisu said in between giggles. “Just… everything.” 

The bus came to a stop in front of them, the doors opening and the conductor not minding the two teenagers who were having a moment. “I guess you need to go now…” Yeah…” Gisu made her way to the bus and stepped on the entrance. Stopping for a moment and turning around. She pushed Dion's hair out of his face and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Dion was starstruck as he watched Gisu back away and the bus leave the stop heading back to the road. His face slowly turned red and he realizing that he needed to go back to his family. A tough night of conversations was ahead of them. But he knew that maybe tomorrow would be a better day. Tomorrow, he would work his best to be better. 

[mobagehelllocal]

“dati” ver ii - kalim, vil, idia & malleus

A/N: Wah, this got so long I had to split it into two parts ;u; So here’s some information if you didn’t read ver i, and went straight for ver ii! 

 The Reader, is different from the actual MC of TWST! 

“Dati” is a pretty difficult word to translate, because it’s just one word but--it can mean so much.  For the sake of this story, you can interpret its meaning as “a long time ago”. 

Due to the general premise, the reader is female! 

The prologue for ver ii “dati” is the same prologue for ver i! 

Link to the concept design for the uniform!

Inspired by: 

“Dati” by Sam Concepcion, Tippy Dos Santos and Quest. (I encourage you to listen to it OR read the English lyrics.) 

“If You Can Dream” by the Disney Princesses. (I would link both but my posts dont appear if I do that ;u;) 

So, without further ado, let’s get into it!~ 

Other versions: ver i (riddle, leona, azul), ver ii (this)

--

"--as you already know. We held a school-wide meeting about the week long exchange program with the all-females private school, Garden Academy. Professors Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein accompanied our delegates to Garden Academy this morning,” Dire Crowley peered at his students through his black mask, “while Professor Mozus Trein stayed with our delegates, Professor Divus Crewel escorted the delegates from Garden Academy to Night Raven College.” 

Excited whispers broke out in the crowd. Crowley cleared his throat once, then again--before everyone settled down. The Headmaster huffed audibly at that. 

“I’ll be using this morning meeting to introduce the delegates,” Crowley turned to the left side of the stage. He motioned at Crewel who was standing back stage with a Garden Academy professor and her students. “Now then, please give a hand for--” 

In the crowd, his eyes widened. 

--

In turn, you were pretty excited too. You had held off telling your friend about you coming to his school because you wanted to surprise him. 

All you girls had been assigned to a particular dorm, not to sleep in--but rather, to experience. Each dorm in NRC (much like GA), had their own unique culture. So, to truly experience the college meant you all needed to immerse yourselves in the different dorms and their cultures. You had to sneakily reconfirm with him what his dorm was, to make sure you got assigned to the correct one. 

And now that you were here...

“Alright ladies,” Professor Radcliffe said kindly, “we will reconvene here at 5PM to return to the dorm Headmaster Crowley so generously set aside for us.” 

“Yes Professor.” Radcliffe eyed all of you girls, before she sighed with an exasperated smile. You were all very excited, and doing very little to hide that. 

“Okay, I know you want to go--but one last thing,” you all let out loud, false and very unladylike groans that Radcliffe ignored. “Remember to be beautiful--” 

“At heart.” you all recited, familiar with your school’s motto.

“Go on then,” Radcliffe finally said, “the dorm heads and their assistants should be waiting outside for all of you.” 

With a cheer, you all parted ways.

Kalim‘s eyes brightened as he caught sight of you again.

“Jamil! Jamil! Look!” he tugged on the other boy’s sleeves as he pointed you out to the crowd. “So it really is [Name]!”

“They did announce her full name on the stage, Kalim.” Jamil said rather blandly, not that Kalim was affected by his exasperated tone. 

“Kalim! Jamil!” Your uniform--the pale green of House Water Lily, the House of Passion--swished around you as you came to a stop before the two boys that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“It’s been awhile.” You reached for their hands and clasped them with yours--at which both boys blushed. While Kalim gave you a goofy smile, Jamil instantly looked away. 

You had spent a couple of months as a child in the Land of Hot Sands because your parents were just beginning to expand your family owned restaurant--Tiana’s Palace--into that country. You had met Kalim, then Jamil because your parents were business partners with Kalim’s father. 

It was hard not to enjoy their friendship. Kalim--was fun loving and easy going. Jamil--was calm and attentive. When you were getting exhausted by Kalim’s energy, Jamil knew when to step in and what to say to calm him down. They were perfectly balanced, and you remembered them fondly.

Needless to say...

When it had been time for you to return to your country, there were a lot of tears. 

-

“Sniff... why are you leaving?” Kalim cried, “I thought we would be friends forever!”

“I--I don’t want to leave too!” you shook, snot dripped down your nose.

“Kalim... [Name] has to go back.” Jamil said slowly, but even his eyes were glassy and wet.

“Wah!” You sniffled as you wrapped both of your arms around the two boys who became so dear to you. 

“I--it’s not like we won’t meet again!” Jamil protested, as he too began to truly join in the crying fest.

“Waaah! Don’t leave [Name]!” Kalim wailed loudly. 

“B--but I can’t stay.” you sobbed. “I tried already...” 

(Behind you the adults were chuckling to themselves at the drama the kids were causing... had they not realized they could just ask them to keep in contact...?) 

(But to a child, the world seemed infinite. It didn’t seem to have an end. 

To the three of you, it truly felt like a final farewell.)

“Promise, we won’t forget each other?” you demanded as you pulled back. The two boys shared a glance through their tears and turned back to you with a determined nod.

“Promise we’ll always be friends, no matter what!” Kalim said. In turn you and Jamil nodded pretty determinedly. 

Then you and Kalim turned to Jamil--you waited for him to make a promise too. He flushed at suddenly being put on the spot, before his eyes light up and he said--

“Then we promise--to meet up again, one day? Here?” 

You and Kalim nodded vigorously at that. 

As your parents took you a way, you all wailed pretty loudly. 

“You can see them again one day.” your mother had said, confused. 

“But it doesn’t mean I won’t miss them when I can’t see them.” you said in a solemn tone. Your parents exchanged looks amused looks.

“I’m surprised you got so attached to those two.” 

“They were fun to play with.” 

“I’m sure they were sweetie. Now get some rest.” 

-

There was some time where you all attempted to exchange letters--since the MagiCam had yet to be developed to a point where international instant messaging was possible. 

However... 

Children were fickle creatures.

Within a few months, you all eventually found something of more interest than a friend from a distant place who you might not see again.

Your interests in each other waned away, until it became a distant, fond and somewhat embarrassing memory. 

That is until...

-

“Hey [Name], did you sign up for the Night Raven College exchange program?” You looked up from the recipe book that you were reading.

“Yeah I did, why?”

“Did you know the model, Vil Schoenheit goes there?”

“Who is Vil?” Your friend gasped dramatically before she rolled her eyes. “Figures you wouldn’t know who Vil Schoenheit is. Come here.” She showed you pictures of Vil’s MagiCam account. There were some photos of the school, and rarer still--photos of other people aside from Vil himself. 

Which, you know--if you had a face like that, you’d totally fill your MagiCam with just selfies. 

“Oh Sweet Evangeline,” your friend sighed dreamily, “NRC boys are definitely cuter than RSA boys--and I swear I’m challenging all the RSA stans to try saying otherwise over my dead body--” You snickered at her rant, before a certain photo caught your eye.  

“Oh is that...” 

“Oh holy Evangeline--” your friend began to wheeze. “I think these are all the Dorm Leaders for this school year--” she clicked onto the photo to open the post. Your friend was right--Vil had noted that this was this year’s NRC Dorm Leader list. 

“Malleus Draconia-- naturally. Vil Schoenheit--NATURALLY.” your friend giggled in excitement, “Oh, I guess Leona Kingscholar is repeating a year... No idea who Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto or Idia Shroud is--and this guy is--” 

“Kalim Al-Asim.” you whispered. If you shut your eyes, you could hear the wind whistle, the laughter of two boys, the joyous shrieking of a girl--and a magic carpet ride across the wide expanse of the sky. Your friend arched a brow at you.

“Do you know him?”

“I think I do.” you hesitated, the sound of laughter still rang in your ears. “I’m pretty sure I met him when I was a kid... when I travelled around with my family.” 

“Oooh, you should totally try and see if he remembers. He’s cute.” 

“We were kids.” you tried to explain to your friend but she only waved a dismissive hand. 

“You aren’t now. Also childhood romance trope is so cute, you gotta let me see it first hand.” your friend grabbed your phone and typed in the tagged username of Kalim Al-Asim. 

{”Hi Kalim! Do you remember me? I’m [Name] [Surname].”}

{”Like [Name] [Surname]? Like Tiana’s Place? Yes! Oh Sorceror, how’d you find me?”}

{”Well funny story...”}

-

And the rest was history.

Jamil took awhile to come around, but you had a video call with the two, and after naming a particular embarrassing moment--Jamil had easily been convinced that it was actually you. 

That had been a few months before the actual exchange, and you chose not to tell them about your part in it so you could surprise them once you got up on stage.

Surprise them you did.

The moment they announced your name, Kalim shouted, and Jamil had face palmed. 

It was another memory to add to the ones you held dearly. 

Now you were seated in Scarabia’s dorms, as you happily enjoyed the grand feast and parade prepared by Jamil and Kalim. 

As Kalim flopped onto the seat next to yours, he shot you a wide grin.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” 

“I am!” you hummed, “I haven’t been anywhere close to the Land of Hot Sands recently...” you put your spoon down and smiled. “The food is really good too! This is the best version of your cuisine that I have tasted. My compliments to the chef for sure! I’d love to take a peek at the recipe.” On your other side Jamil choked, and you turned to him with a confused expression. 

“Are you okay, Jamil?” you asked, concerned.

“Hahah, he was probably surprised at the praise! Jamil cooked everything after all!” 

“Woah, you did? We definitely should exchange recipes.” with a particularly red face, Jamil nodded his assent before he excused himself.

“I hope he’s okay.” 

“It’s fine! He’s having a hard time expressing it, but he’s really excited to see you.” Kalim peered at you curiously. “I am too, of course.” 

“Same.” you agreed. “It’s a little sad we lost contact.” 

“Well, finding each other now was pretty fun! So I think it was worth it.” You giggled in response.

“I’ll have to agree with you, Kalim.” 

You both turned back to the front to watch the parade when Kalim spoke up again.

“Hey [Name]?” 

“Hm?”

“This time... let’s not lose each other, okay?” You turned back to Kalim, surprised at the change of his tone. You couldn’t help but let your expression melt into a soft one.

“Mhm! This time... let’s keep those promises.” You two shared a grin, as the parade finished off with fireworks.

--

When Vil saw you hop up onto the stage, he had definitely been surprised. He hadn’t expected to see you--though now that he thought about it, it had been so out of the blue of you to ask him about whether or not he was in Pomefiore.

Then again he had been busy with other things... So he hadn’t thought too much on it. You were, after all, the type of person who brought up something from ten years in the past simply because you suddenly remembered it. He had assumed it had been something like that.

Vil stood with Rook by his side, his arms crossed as he waited for the Garden Academy students to exit the Mirror Chamber. Once you finally appeared in the crowd, your eyes instantly met his.

“Hi Vil.” you greeted--uncharacteristically nervous and shy around him, dressed in the pale purple colors of House Chrysanthemum--the House of Artistry.

At the sight of you, Vil’s lips instantly curled up into a beautiful smile.

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan.” he raised a hand and began to rub a finger against a purple mark on your cheek. “paint got to your face again.” Your tense shoulders loosened as Vil greeted you the same way he always did.

“Whoops.” Vil shook his head, and as he pulled back he noticed that your skirt and your sleeves had faint splatter marks of paint--and on your wrist--

“You need to stop writing on your wrist, dear one.” he chided gently, though used to your antics, he easily unclipped his magic pen from his breast pocket and began to cast a spell to clean you up.

“Is it that obvious? I really did try to clean up...” you complained, but you let Vil fuss over you--as he normally did. There was no stopping him until he was satisfied. When he finally pulled back, he nodded in an approving manner.

“Vil, did you like it? Was it a good surprise?” you looked up at him with curiosity shining in your eyes, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Yes. It was a pleasant surprise. So we’ll be spending a whole two weeks together...” he mused.

You were a person he had grown up with, and the person he regarded as his dearest friend. Much like him, you had an eye for art--except while his art focused on himself as a model and actor--yours came in the form of paintings.

Your identical passion for beauty made the two of you attached at the hip. You were the one whose opinion mattered the most to him--because there was no one whose opinions he trusted more.

“Ohoho, Roi de Poison, who is this?” Rook peered curiously at you, he had never seen Vil react like this before...

Well actually he had. Whenever Vil was on his phone--but Vil never explained, and no matter how Rook tried, he never figured it out.

“This is my best friend, [Name]. We’ve been friends since our childhood.” Vil’s lips curled up, “She’s also--” Vil looked at you for a moment, and you nodded. Vil then mentioned your MagiCam account, and Rook’s eyes popped open in surprise. He knew that name--you were one of the most popular artist on MagiCam. Rook knew that you and Vil followed and liked each other’s works, but there had been no hint to the of your relationship with Vil.

He studied Vil curiously.

For someone who was never afraid to share what he did to the public’s eye, you were an incredibly well kept secret for Vil. From what he knew about you on MagiCam--you were a very private person who was never one to share your photos. Why, he knew that Idia Shroud from Ignihyde was a fan of some of your otaku related works--he had heard from the man that one of your quirks was that you chose to never appear in fan gatherings. You were incredibly mysterious.

To realize that--that person--

He eyed you curiously. You were far different from the women that Vil would often be seen hanging out with. As a model, he had a pretty extravagant social life. He hung out with people as glamorous as him and you--

Well, to put it plain and simple, you weren’t anything like that.

“So Vil, where do we go first?” you asked, Vil turned his gaze away from the analytical glint in Rook’s eyes, to smile at you.

“I’ll show you the gardens, I’m sure you’ll love them.”

-

After Vil had bid you ‘good bye’ as you and your classmates returned to your designated dorm, Vil looked at Rook with an annoyed expression.

“Alright Rook.” the Pomefiore Dorm Leader crossed his arms, “what is it?”

“What’s what?” the other third year raised his hands defensively.

“You kept staring at [Name] earlier with that look in your eye... I don’t like it.”

“I was just thinking... she was a very well kept secret.”

“A secret..?” Vil arched a brow. “She isn’t a secret at all. As you remember, she’s also incredibly famous on MagiCam.”

“No, I do mean, she’s a secret of yours, Roi de Poison.” Rook smiled, and Vil’s eyes narrowed in turn.

“I don’t understand.”

“You never mentioned her on MagiCam.”

“That was by her request. She wanted to build up her own audience.” Vil explained.

“Hm... that’s interesting.”

“What is?”

“I do believe...” Rook’s eyes slipped open. “That your friend is hiding something from you.

-

Vil didn’t like to believe what Rook told him, but he did wonder to himself how he could miss it.

You had considered each other best friends--yet he never noticed how you truly felt. The next time he caught you (because for some reason--it was as if you knew he wanted to talk to you about something important--and he had a difficult time catching you), he asked you if you could spend lunch together in private. You had happily agreed.

Once you two had sat down together in one of the gazebos in NRC’s gardens, he placed down the basket of food.

“Ah! Vil, it looks really good~” you said, happy.

“Yes, and you’ll see it’s all healthy too.” he smiled--how could he not, in your presence? As you two began to eat, you chattered on about what you’ve seen and liked about NRC so far. While he did listen--he can’t help but have his thoughts drift off to Rook’s statement.

Could you really be hiding--?

“--Vil? Is something wrong?” you put the utensil down, and studied your friend with a worried expression on your face. He felt a little guilty--your usual absent minded but happy expression was twisted with the furrow of your brow, and the downward slope of your lips.

“No it’s...” he hesitated a moment. He thought for a second how you were the first person to ruffle him in a long time. “I was thinking... we’re both big influencers now--in fashion and in the arts.”

“Alright, I’m listening.” you nodded.

“Why don’t we do a collaboration? While you’re still here. We have a week left.” He offered, and you furrowed your brows.

“I don’t know Vil--as alike as our fields are, our audiences can be pretty different.”

“Do you... well, do you not like sharing about me on your page?” Vil hated this. As an influencer, he was used to being loved and hated. There was a time when the comments got to him--but now, he’s able to brush it off with little problem. With you though--well, he was always going to be emotionally invested in you. So, of course you could make him feel this insecure. He hadn’t felt like this for such a long time--and it’s certainly much worse than he remembered. You looked alarmed.

“What? No, no! Of course that’s not it.” you frantically shook your head as you reached your hands out to hold his.

“Then why? I was happy that you didn’t want to mix business with our friendship... but well... something made me realize that we don’t have a relationship on MagiCam at all and...” Vil paused, and you rubbed the back of his hands gently. “And you’re so important to me [Name]. So I want to share that with my followers too.” Your cheeks turned red at that and you looked down on your laced hands.

“It’s just...” you inhaled sharply, “I... well, I know you have a certain image to uphold and--and I don’t want to be someone who would cause people to criticize you.” you pulled your hands away to gesture at yourself. Paint splattered blouse, ink on your wrist and hair--an absolute mess. “I mean look at me... and look at you. People have a hard time imagining we’re friends and--and well... I know the type of fans Beauty influencers can have. I don’t want to get criticized because I know you’ll defend me and I don’t want that to negatively affect your reputation.” Your eyes flickered away, and he could swear they were slightly wet.

Of course.

Rook was wrong.

Rook had assumed that perhaps you simply hadn’t wanted to be associated with Vil Schoenheit. While that was technically the truth--you weren’t doing it for negative reasons. You were just looking out for him--thinking about the best for his reputation.

“Like right now--I really wanted to see you, surprise you--so I impulsively joined the exchange program and couldn’t back out. I was worried about how people might see us hang out together... I’m worried about how what your fans will think...”

However, there was no way in hell that Vil Schoenheit would let you put yourself down like this.

“Okay, no.” he interrupted, and you looked up at him--confused.

“Vil?”

“I won’t allow you to look down at yourself like that. I appreciate that you care about my reputation but--” he takes your hands in his and looks you in the eye. “[Name], you’re more important to me than that.” your eyes water up, and he kept speaking.

“Sweet one, you were always my number one fan--even before my career really took off, you were the one who cheered me on. You were so sure I could do this, even when I had my own moments of weakness. You believed in me when no one else did.” Vl scowled, “So I’ll always be on your side too, alright? It doesn’t matter to me what they all think.”

“But... you really worked hard to get to where you are.” you said weakly, “It can happen super quickly...”

“I am not Vil Schoenheit for nothing.” he said in response, “besides--you are beautiful [Name].” your blushed intensified, and you ducked your head. “Do you not believe me? I know beauty when I see it--and I know you are.”

“Vil... please stop, you’re embarrassing me.”

“No I will not. I will keep telling you this until you know this. I refuse to let someone I consider beautiful, look down on herself like this. Alright?” He reached out a hand to lift your chin. Your eyes were wet, and you bit your lip as you nodded hesitantly.

He smiled, pleased.

“Vil... I’m sorry for not... well...”

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner. What type of best friend am I, that it took someone else pointing it out for me to realize it?” You giggled at that.

“Well, to be fair--we are best friends. I know how to hide it from you.”

“And you better stop hiding these things from me, alright?”

“Yes, of course.” you nodded, a grin finally lit up your face. Vil’s smile turned gentle.

“Now, how about we think of a collaboration project?”

--

As you stepped out of the Mirror Chamber, you immediately move in the direction of a familiar blue flame.

“Hello Ortho.” When Ortho looked up, he beamed brightly.

“[Name]!” He wrapped his arms around you, which you reciprocate with an elegant smile.

“It has been awhile, has it not?” you mused, as you let go of him. You quickly smoothened the pink skirts of House Eglantine--the House of Sophistication. You turned your head from side to side and your brow raised as you realized that a certain man wasn’t here.

“Ortho, where is your brother?” Ortho gulped nervously, and behind him--one of the Ignihyde student’s gadget began to shake. Your eyes narrowed.

“Is your brother holing himself up in his room again? On such an occasion? Which requires his presence as a dorm leader?”

“Uh...” Ortho glanced away nervously before he met your gaze again. “Yes?”

“Ortho!” squeaked the gadget, “you could defend me!”

“Sorry big brother... but you also brought it onto yourself.” Ortho said quickly, and your lips twitched at that. “There’s no point in lying to [Name].”

“That’s true.” you could hear Idia squeak from the tablet at your response. “Take me to his room.”

“Alright [Name].” Ortho agreed easily.

“Ortho!” Idia wailed, “on whose side are you on?”

“For once, not yours. Sorry big brother.” Ortho eagerly looked up at you. “Will you tell me some stories?”

“I also have pictures.” you offered and Ortho cheered. You turned back to the the tablet.

“Prepare yourself Idia.”

“I’m going to die.”

Your childhood best friend mourned, and your lips quirked in amusement.

Despite it all, you had missed Idia especially because...

Your lips twitched downward for a bit, before you immediately composed yourself.

You really didn’t want to upset Idia after all.

-

As he heard you begin to tell Ortho some stories from your school, Idia began to frantically run around his room, and cleaned up as best as possibly could.

After all, you weren’t a part of House Eglantine just for show.

Like him, you were the daughter of an incredibly old and wealthy family from the Isle of Lamentation. In your childhood, Idia, who had always been shy--attached himself to you, when you had protected him from some bullies. Ever since, he just followed you around.

For some reason, you chose to stick around with him--despite how different the two of you were.

He was an absolute shut-in who preferred to play games and watch anime from the comfort of his bedroom.

You were a popular socialite amongst the elite of the Isle of Lamentation--known for your beauty and intelligence. You were also recognized on MagiCam for your love of travel. In fact, you were often transported all over Twisted Wonderland because tourists locations wanted to be on your account. 

Again, he really didn’t see why you stuck around.

A lot of his friends when he was younger--those seeking to befriend the Shroud Family’s heir--had given up on him when they all realized that he was difficult to communicate with.

But not you.

Ever since he attached himself to you--you had seemed to attach yourself back for no reason. You willingly called himself his best friend (and despite how different you were--he’d admit that you were the only friend he had that he could consider as a best friend--), which could hurt your social standing because of how insanely beloved you were--but you didn’t care (and of course, you’re also the type of popular kid that could never make yourself unpopular).

Don’t get Idia wrong.

He didn’t hate you.

You were patient.

You were kind.

You were understanding.

Idia definitely had a crush on you, and he didn’t know what to do with it--because he had such a hard time finding something about himself that you might be attracted to.

You were like the true hidden route to be conquered on a dating simulation game. First he would need to find a way to ensure that he were on the right path. Then next, he needed to complete a bunch of prerequisites to be able to even access this hidden route.

Your difficulty level was EX.

He had spent most of his childhood by your side--

‘but why does it feel like I know nothing about you?’ he frowned.

Truth be told, Idia had an idea on why. He had been very selfish with you. Nobody had been willing to talk to him about his interests in real life--except you. That’s why he talked to you about his games or robotics--because it’s different when someone in real life is the one doing the listening to you. In the process of that, he felt like you knew more about him than the other way around and it made him guilty.

He was guilty he didn’t hear you out often but the thing is--you never really shared. 

“--Idia.” he felt a hand press against his forehead, and he fell backwards with a screech. You put your hands on your hips as you looked down at him with an arched brow. “Well, at least I know you aren’t running a fever.” 

“You--you’re here!” He squeaked, “Already?”

“I am.” you looked around, and noted how messy his room was. Instead of commenting however, you began to move around and pick up his things. When you noticed he still hadn’t moved, you turned to him with an arched brow. “Come on Idia, I’ll help you.” 

“Ah... Okay.” He looked up at Ortho in confusion, and it seemed that he was also stunned that you hadn’t gone straight into a lecture about his responsibilities as you normally would. 

-

Idia considered himself a terrible friend, but he wasn’t so terrible as to not notice that you weren’t... well, at max HP. Sometimes he thought you would get angry, but you would instead sigh, and just avert your gaze. 

When you were in public (because Idia was worried okay? So he kept an eye out for you too--) you seemed to interact normally with your peers. The fans you had in NRC--were dealt with your normal grace. 

However, when you would visit Idia, you would grow quiet--and thoughtful.

It was, literally, killing him. 

Was it him? Were you mulling the idea of cancelling your support together? 

Idia sincerely didn’t know what to do if this was real. 

So one time when you were in his bedroom, you suddenly got a call. You looked down at your phone, furrowed your brows in that way that Idia hated--and left the room. 

“You should speak with her, brother.” Ortho suggested, a frown on his face. “she seemed really down recently.” 

“I mean... what do I even say?” Idia squeaked. 

“I’m not sure.” Ortho shrugged, “but I can tell your concerned brother, so just do it.” 

-

Idia gathered all his courage, and moved to follow you. As he turned down the hallway he heard you speak.

“--I don’t want to marry Adonis.” 

Idia immediately froze, and stood in place as he heard your one sided argument--with who he assumed--was probably one of your parents.

Alongside with being the most popular socialite of the elites in the Isle of Lamentation, you were also the most desirable waifu--ahem--he meant bachelorette.

Idia knew this because it was one of the only times you ever complained about it. Your parents were pleased with how popular you were, and the amount of marriage offers you received. You had told him that since you were pretty young, you weren’t really being forced to chose now.

“But I’m sure the pressure will be different when I grow older.”  you had sighed. Idia hadn’t known what to say--and the most he could do was put a hand on your back. 

“There... there?” he asked, with a frown. He really hadn’t known what to do. You looked up and met his eyes before laughing.

“Sorry to bother you about this Idia.” 

‘No, it’s okay! I don’t mind!’ was what he thought, but you stood up. 

“Venting helped a little. Thank you for listening.” you picked up your things and stared at a frozen Idia. “I think I’ll go home now. I’ll see you... later.” 

He should’ve tried to stop you--but he just... blanked. He should’ve tried to say something--anything to cheer you up. Heck, maybe you would’ve liked for him to ask if you wanted to game a little to get your mind off of it. 

“I’m serious mother... Adonis doesn’t respect women--I won’t...” you paused, “I won’t feel safe... I know father thinks he’s the best option but... I don’t really want to talk about this right now. I’m in Idia’s dorm...” you stopped again. 

“Mother...” your voice was shaky, and Idia’s hands fisted in his coat. “No. Stop talking about Idia like that.” Idia tensed, and turned his head. “... It’s not about that, he’s my friend. My best friend. I won’t allow you to talk about him like that.” 

Idia had an idea on what the elite of the Isle of Lamentation thought of him. They looked at him with respect because he was the heir to the Shroud Family, they also acknowledged his skills with technology... but otherwise? He was considered eccentric. 

The reason your family did not mind your relationship with him--is because it brought them a certain esteem. That their daughter was the only one who the next Shroud heir would actively communicate with. The Shrouds were still one, if not the most powerful family in the Isle after all. 

“Bye.” 

Idia flinched, and he frantically looked around for a place to hide.

“Idia?” He looked up and noticed that you were looking at him with a startled expression, before it slipped to an exhausted one.

“You heard...?”

“A bit.” he croaked out. “Is that... why you were so sad?” 

“You noticed?” He frowned at that.

“Of course I did... we’re... friends, right?” you studied him carefully, and he felt like he was in a boiler room or something--he was sweating a lot. 

“Yeah we are.” you then slid down to the ground, and tucked your skirt underneath you. You looked up at him expectantly, and he hastily sat down next to you. 

“So they’re pressuring you right now.” Idia stated.

“Yeah.”

“With Adonis.”

“Yeah...” you groaned, as you raised your hands to your temples. “they could’ve chosen anyone.. but they chose that narcissistic... arse.” 

“Who are the other offers?” Idia asked, and you mumbled out a bunch of names he recognized. Hey, he might not be active in the social sphere, but he was aware on who was who. 

“Adonis is...” Idia paused, “well in terms of social standing, I guess.” 

“Yeah. Unless someone of higher status proposes, there’s nothing I can do.” you mumbled. 

“What about me?” You whirled your head to look at Idia. “W-what--? You?” You cleared your throat, “I mean...that... I...” 

“Oh.” Idia blinked in surprise. “No! NO! Wait! I meant, why--what was your mother saying about me?” Your face flushed red, and Idia found your flustered expression cute. You rarely showed that face. 

“Oh you know, same old, same old.” you grumbled as you fanned your face with a hand. “Just... criticizing you... and all that.” 

“Well... I can guess what she said, and... she’s probably... not wrong.” You turned to him with the same ferocity that you had done earlier.

“No Idia, don’t you dare speak of yourself as that. Don’t you dare listen to the elites on Lamentation. They couldn’t be even more wrong about you.” 

“But--”

“No buts.” you narrowed your eyes, and he flinched at the sight of your fury. “You are an amazing person--you’re smarter than they think and you create some pretty amazing things. Sure you could stand to go out more and make friends--but when you’re focused on your craft...” you paused, and you expression softened. Idia wondered what you were remembering. “You are so amazing. I hate how they don’t see that.” His breath hitched.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do! I love you--your work.” you coughed in response. The two of you went silent, before you sighed and picked yourself up. He looked up at you, and you shot him the same sad smile you had--all those years back, when the problems of today seemed like distant nightmares. 

“Thank you for listening to me, Idia.” you said, “and I’m sorry to bother you with my problems.” 

“I... I’m your friend right?”

“... Yes.” 

“So please... don’t worry about it [Name].” he looked away uncomfortably. “I may complain sometimes...”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, all the time.” he said grouchily, and you giggled--which made it all the more worth it. “...even if I complain all the time--you’re still my precious friend.” 

You smiled, leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

When you pulled back, Idia was stuttering, and turning red. 

“Thank you, Idia.”

- 

After you left Ignihyde, he sat back at his computer and began typing out an email.

For you--whose smile was so precious to him...

Idia knew that he liked you. A lot.

He probably already loved you really. 

And judging from the way you reacted--

maybe it was mutual...?

-

Dear Lord and Lady [Surname],

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Shroud would like to extend an offer of engagement between your daughter, [Name] [Surname] and our heir, Lord Idia Shroud...

--

"Oh no.” one of the Garden Academy students, dressed in the aquamarine colors of House Sage--House of Spirituality, turned to Lilia with a frown. “We’re missing one of our fellow House Sage classmates... give us a moment, we’ll go find her.”

Lilia’s lips only curled upward.

“Would her name happen to be [Name] [Surname]?”

“Yes.” the student blinked in surprise. “That would be her.”

“Ah.” Lilia smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s fine. I’m sure he’s gone to find her already.”

The Garden Academy students shared a glance.

-

The most Malleus knew was that majority of the Student Body had gone off to the Mirror Chamber for some event. He didn’t know, after all, he hadn’t been invited.

So he had decided to go on a long walk, internally unamused that he was once more forgotten when he sensed it--

Your presence.

It was in the gentle caress of the wind against his face, in the rustle of the leaves, and in the soft warmth of the sun.

One moment he was incredibly unhappy, and in the next second--he felt your magic touch his.

It was like a ripple--and it soothed his entire being.

You and your magic--he wondered if you knew the extent of your effect on him.

He began to walk deep into the forest.

He paused in his step as he caught sight of you. You had sat down in a patch of sunlight in the small meadow. You were surrounded by some creatures of the forest--from bears to deers and rabbits. You looked completely serene--as you should--after all, you were one of the most powerful nature fae living. Coming from your head were horns--but nothing like his. Yours were shorter, and much more like tree branches. As you hummed idly to yourself, a few birds fluttered forward and decorated your horns with small flowers. Your smile brightened the clearing, and the birds--pleased--chirped a song that you instantly began to hum along with.

How he wished he could draw closer to you without disrupting the peace--animals didn’t do well with Malleus. They inherently knew how powerful he was--and though the same could be said about what they sensed from you--your powers were much more attuned to nature in itself. To be by your side--it would be peace for the animals.

‘ He could understand. By your side, there were no pressures to be anyone else other than himself.’  

As he stepped into the clearing, all the animals turned to look at him, and tensed. You blinked in surprise at their actions, before you turned your head to see Malleus at the far edge of the small clearing you were in.

“Mal.” you greeted, your startled expression slipped into a sweet, happy one. “It has been a long time.” Malleus inclined his head. “Won’t you come close, dear friend?” you raised a hand, beckoning him to come closer.

He eyed the animals around you warily.

“I don’t think they will enjoy that.” You let out a soft laugh at his deadpanned statement. Your laugh seemed to instantly calm most of the animals down (he could feel his tensed shoulders unknot too). You looked around you and began to speak to them.

“Now now everyone--Mal is a dear friend. I grew up with him. He’s a good person. Won’t you all please be patient with him?” The animals around you shuffled uneasily.

You looked up again and gestured for Malleus to draw closer once more. Malleus approached slowly at first, and once he realized that none of the animals would be disrupted, easily slid down beside you. One of the male deers leaned forward to sniff him--and Malleus held as still as possible. Apparently satisfied, the deer relaxed beside Malleus. Around him, the animals slipped back to their relaxed states.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” One particularly ambitious rabbit hopped up onto your lap and peered inquisitively at Malleus. You smiled, and began to brush your fingers through the animal’s hair.

“[Name], not that I’m unhappy to see you but...” He began, “what are you doing here?”

“My school, the Garden Academy is having an exchange program with your school.” you peered up curiously at your childhood friend. “Did you not hear?”

“As per usual, I do believe people have forgotten to inform me.” he frowned slightly. “Then... this would be the event being held at the Mirror Chamber, then?” You nodded.

“The event should still be ongoing.” Malleus eyed you curiously, but you spread your arms wide in response.

“The trees told me that some creatures were excited to see me.” You said--and the animals all made noises of agreement, “so I thought to visit them already.”

“Will your classmates and teacher not worry then?” You giggled at his questions.

“I appreciate the concern Mal but.. there’s nothing here that can harm me.” you said simply, and he hummed in acknowledgement--you were right.

You were perhaps the one person Malleus could consider an equal.

You had grown up side by side--and he was more than aware of your power and capabilities.

If there was one person who knew him as well as Lilia--it was you. You had seen him at his best and his worst--you were there when he could barely control his own magical power. He hadn’t been good at dampening his own energy back then--nobody ever approached him out of fear for the amount of power he had. The only one who bothered to interact with him had been Lilia, who had been his designated caretaker and...

And you.

You had no reason to be by his side when he had been his most volatile.

But you had been there.

And you stuck by him with no hesitation.

“How about you?” You glanced at the dragon fae from the edge of your eye.

“Ah. I wasn’t invited.” he answered with a sigh, and you could see the discontent in the almost, unnoticeable, wrinkle between his brows. You--who knew him so well--could spot the tiniest giveaways to Malleus’s moods--it was a skill you were proud of.

You were someone who occupied an almost identical role to Malleus. All that differs from the two of you is the type of magic you possessed.

As a dragon fae, and a descendant of the Witch of Thorns--it was easy to predict the type of power Malleus would eventually manifest. Draconic transformation and dark magic. This made people fear him, and dislike interacting with him.

As a nature fae, and a descendant of the Spirit of the Willow--most knew that you would grow to have power attuned with nature. It explained why you could speak the language of the trees and flowers--why animals adored you. To others--people saw you as harmless.  

Perhaps in the beginning, you hadn’t really thought too much of your similarities. As years passed however--you realized how unfair the world was to Malleus.

They never saw the boy who sneezed and set Lilia’s hair on fire, they never acknowledged the man who treasured his Gao Gao Dragon toy--because it adored him as is. They didn’t allow Malleus to make mistakes, they didn’t allow Malleus to be vulnerable. They refused to see past this idea of a strong magician and the title of prince.

You reached forward and cupped his cheek. He turned to look at you quizzically.

“Then... should we have our own event?” You smiled, a tad bit more mischievous. You looked down at the animals. “Would you be willing to help out, my friends?”

The bunny in your lap twitched its nose in response, and a lot of the animals eagerly leaned closer.

“An event, like a party--to celebrate our reunion?” You glanced at Malleus to see him look on in curiosity. It seemed like the animals understood the idea of a party and began to move. You noticed the the female animals were the ones who specifically pulled you away, and when you glanced at Malleus--you noticed the the male animals began to surround him. He shot you a desperate look, but you only laughed.

“Let’s have fun!”

-

The male animals had weaved flowers together on top of Malleus’s head. Another animal had gotten several leaves, and put them together to form a long cape. He had no idea how the animals were doing it--but he just assumed it was because you were magic.

One of the birds flew over, and chirped loudly--which the animals took as a sort of signal. They all stopped and studied what they had done to Malleus. They began to make displeased noises, until one of the deers pushed a long stick towards Malleus. When he picked it up, he looked to the animals to see that they were all still unsatisfied. To humor them, He unclipped his pen from his breast pocket and waved it. He used the foliage that had fallen to the ground to decorate the stick--and craft it into a staff similar to his own.

“Is it good?” he asked, and the animals all vigorously gave their assent. At that, he could feel his lips curl up. The bird chirped again, and the animals snapped into action. One of the bucks nudge Malleus forward with his snout. “Ah, is it time to go back?” the birds make a pleasant chirping sound, and he allowed himself to be pushed back into the clearing.

He found himself in the clearing again--with all the male animals standing by his side. He thought briefly of what an amusing sight this probably was, until another bird chirped from the opposite side of the clearing. He raised his gaze that way, as a bunch of female birds flew in, and dropped flower petals onto the ground. The smaller animals came in first, followed by the younger fauns--and finally--

You stepped forth into the light of the clearing, and he found his breath caught in his throat. While the flowers on his form were restricted to his crown--the animals had chosen to decorate your whole form with it. Unlike the flower crown you were wearing earlier--this one had a train that fell to the ground, and billowed around you--making you all the more ethereal. Escorted on either side by the tall, elegant form of does--you resembled the idea of a Fae Queen with her animal court. As you came to a stop beside Malleus, you giggled at his surprised expression. He felt something tug on his pants, and when he looked down--he found a squirrel made exaggerated gestures towards you.

“Ah.” he looked up and met your curious gaze. “You look beautiful, [Name].” And he did mean it--for the centuries that he had known you, and the centuries he had yet to share with you--he knew that one thing would remain constant--the way you made his heart skip a beat, and the way you were beauty in everything you did.

“Thank you, Malleus. You look handsome” you blushed. That’s when you were both nudged forward by the deers, and were now much closer. One of the deers, snatched the staff in his hand. The birds fluttered around you, pulling your sleeves into place until finally--both you and Malleus were moved to a waltz pose. You stared into each other’s eyes, stunned. Malleus wondered briefly is animals were truly capable of sensing feelings he had--that even he had yet to fully comprehend.

“Shall we?” he offered, and you beamed in response. The birds began to sing, and the two of you proceeded to dance in the clearing.

“I think they enjoyed themselves, too much.”

“Did you have fun?” Malleus asked gently, and you smiled.

“I did but...” you curiously peered up at him. “Did you have fun?”

“I suppose I did.” He mused.

The other animals watched on--pleased.

Though neither of you saw it--blissfully caught up in enjoying your dance--they did. They could see the future King and Queen of Faeries.

--

[petriquors]

WAAAH THESE ARE SO CUTE!! C for yams, J for suga, and L for ennoshita!! <3

yes they are omg you went and picked all these emotional ones?? nice.

these got stupid long. here's a cut.

C - Calm how do they calm the other down?

(yamaguchi) two anxious people in one relationship means that they're pretty good at keeping each other calm! yams gets anxious over his own goals, self-imposed rules and ambitions, and overall just being good enough. i'm there to promise that he is, even if it takes reminding him constantly of all the good things he's done, no matter how small. metaphorical gold star for helping with the dishes or chatting with my mom, you know?

time to psychoanalyze myself: i get anxious about feeling out of control. something bad happens and i can't fix it? time to spiral. tadashi, however, is excellent at whispered reassurances that something we can't fix everything and it's okay or even healthy to feel sad about it. king of talking it out, king of making bad feelings float away with the wind.

J - Jealousy do they get jealous easily? What do they do when jealous?

(suga) suga isn't the jealous type, but guess who is! me! whoops! he has this work friend that errs a little too close for comfort with little gifts and the like. no matter how many times i bite my tongue and tell myself she's just super nice, yeah, the feelings are still there. however, i am a big fan of actually talking to your partner, so i've definitely brought it up with koushi before? asked what's going on, you know? 10/10 he panicked and thought i was accusing him of cheating, but no, really it was just a vibe check.

L - Love when did they realize they were in love?

(ennoshita) time to elaborate on the hot tub story. so chikara and i spent like half of college kinda casually dating even though both parties wanted to be serious, but neither would admit to it because of the fear of rejection. cute, right? so fall break of senior year rolls around, we're on a trip with our friends because that's what we do, and lo and behold we're the only two people up late one night.

and there's a hot tub.

i haven't exactly thought about how we wound up in a hot tub in like 40-degree weather, but it's okay; we can hand-wave that part. it's like 1 am, we're tired and a little love-drunk, maybe a little real drunk too, and chikara's like "fuck it" and just comes out with "i love you" as if that changes nothing.

like these two people were previously pretending that everything was fine and cool and fun but in reality, what happens when you love someone who lives on the other side of the planet from you? college romance is supposed to be temporary, isn't it? wasn't he going home? "i love you" is a dark phrase when it has so many strings attached to it, but he'll be damned if i wasn't the one he wanted to make them work for.

send me a letter and one of my selfships!

[yjhgvf]

I Wrote Something Else. Remember This Drawing with The Shopping List Scavenger Hunt? I Wrote the Fic. It’s 708 Words but I Worked Hard on It. Also It’s Gijinka bc Idk How to Write Trucks.

Two former rivals step into an elevator. One, a male with fiery red hair, presses an elevator button to bring them to the floor his apartment is on.

“You did well in today’s race.” The other, a male with deep blue hair currently wedging himself in the corner of the elevator, comments.

“Thanks. You did well too, babe! You didn’t even cheat!”

“You consider me not cheating ‘doing well’? You hold me to a low standard, Blaze.”

“It’s not that I hold you to a low standard, Crusher! I’m just proud that you’re improving!” Blaze points out with a smile, coming towards Crusher and giving him a peck on the cheek. Crusher giggled a little. “What do you think Pickle made for dinner?”

“Probably something inedible.” Crusher said with a sigh.

“Don’t be mean! He tries his best!” Blaze lightly scolded him. Unlike Blaze, Crusher had first hand experience with the concoctions Pickle considers food. He personally preferred if Pickle stayed as far away from the kitchen as possible, but that’s kind of hard in an apartment. The elevator signaled its stop and opened the doors for the two men to walk out and down the hall. Blaze took out a key from his pocket, and upon reaching a certain door, he inserted the key into the doorknob and unlocked it, granting access to both individuals.

“Pickle, we’re home!” Crusher shouted as they entered. Usually, they’re boyfriend would give an excited shout and come running to the door to greet them like a puppy, but this time they were strangely met with silence. There wasn’t even the smell of food (pleasant or not) coming from the kitchen or noise coming from one of the many electronics in the house to signal Pickle’s presence. The house felt empty. “Huh. He must be out.”

“Yeah, he’s probably shopping or something.” Blaze said as he made his way further into the apartment. He walked into the kitchen to get a drink as Crusher flopped down on the couch. As he passed by the counter though, he took note of a piece of paper laid face down. Blaze hesitantly picked up the paper and turned it over, being greeted with a colorful list of crayoned words stretching down the paper. What stuck out to him though was the big label in red and blue crayon at the top reading ‘SCAVENGER HUNT :]’. “Aww! Crusher, come take a look at this!”

“Hm? What is it?” Crusher got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen. Blaze angled the paper towards him so he could read it.

“Pickle made us a scavenger hunt to do! I can tell this is going to be fun and we haven’t even started!” Blaze was enthusiastic over the scavenger hunt. Crusher though seemed suspicious. The scavenger hunt was strange to him. The items they needed to find were either foodstuffs or essential items. Additionally, brand names were provided, all of which could coincidentally be found at the local grocery store. And the scribbled out section underneath the scavenger hunt label. It could just be that Pickle misspelled something, but the letters looked completely different. Almost as if it read… wait a minute.

“Blaze, this is a shopping list. Pickle’s trying to make us do the shopping for him, when it’s his turn to do it this week, through a poorly disguised scavenger hunt.” Crusher stated, slightly agitated.

“Oh come on, Crusher! Lighten up! He’s just trying to give us something fun to do!”

“I appreciate the effort he made. But I don’t like that he’s basica- WAAAH!” Crusher was cut off of his explanation by Blaze picking him up princess style and making a mad dash towards the apartment door. He handed Crusher the shopping list.

“Hold the list, Crusher! We’re going to complete this scavenger hunt with Blazing Speed!” Blaze exclaimed as he ran them out the door and down the hall to the elevator. Crusher rolled his eyes. There was no point in reasoning with (or in this case, complaining to) Blaze. Whether he liked it or not, His over enthusiastic boyfriend was going to drag him along on this scavenger hunt made by his cheating-at-his-chores boyfriend.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[okuraiani]

“Secret Project” — Ikemen Prince Prologue

I talked about this the other day, but today I can finally announce that I've finished (ಥ﹏ಥ)

I've finished translating the prologue for Ikemen Prince!

It's been a few days since the game was released, but I still want to share some of my impressions with you before you guys plunge into the madness that is my translation (￣▽￣*)ゞ

Truth be told, I had mixed feelings about this game when I first heard about it. It honestly reminded me quite much about Midnight Cinderella (which I am not so fond of as I am of others) although the premise is different here. However, said premise is exactly what got me interested in the game. The basis for this game is the tale of The Beauty and the Beast; a very well-known one, I think. I was curious as to how they would include this into the story, but as of now it looks really promising („• ֊ •„)

The system is really similar to Ikemen Genjiden, so it is not too difficult if you already got used to it before (though it's definitely different from Ikemen Revolution and Ikemen Vampire.) For those who don't know Ikemen Genjiden's system yet: Don't worry, it is really not that hard to figure out!

The visuals are really great and fit the theme extremely well. As for the attire for each suitor, I think most of them are incredibly pretty! σ(≧ε≦σ) ♡

The three initial suitors are as expected Leon, Chevalier and Yves. I did think that Leon and Chevalier were obvious choices because they are the leaders of each faction ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌ and although I'm not too sure how Yves fits in there, I wasn't especially surprised about him being one of the first suitors.

Moreover, the prologue is fully voiced, which makes it a really worthwhile experience (*￣▽￣)b

So, without any further ado, please enjoy Ikemen Prince's prologue! I hope many people will come to love this game (share some love with Ikemen Live and Ikemen Genjiden too, please) so that we'll see an English version in the future °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

(By the way, Emma is the preset name if you don't choose any other (.❛ ᴗ ❛.) Also, I apologize beforehand for any typos or formatting mistakes. It was... a lot of text (ಥ﹏ಥ))

Part 1 — A Tale That Started in a Bookstore

A sweet love like fluffy, melting cotton candy. A bitter love like black tea without sugar or milk. There are many types of love stories in this world. Every time I come in contact with those, I come to think that I don’t know true love. People my age fall in love, get married and build a happy family. The time when I dreamed of a serious love to the point of giving up myself might have already ended.

(But... still...)

Even today I still yearn for a love I would risk my entire life for.

Emma “... Haah, this book was great as well.”

During the day on a weekday, on the counter of the much less busy than usual bookstore, I gently closed the book.

(There aren’t even customers coming in... well, it’s troubling that they don’t come, but thanks to that I can read a lot of books.)

??? “Emma, did you finish reading?”

Emma “Woah!?”

Suddenly, because of the shadow that filled up my vision, I jumped back from my earlier thoughts.

Emma “Ri– Rio...?”

Rio “Sorry for surprising you. I came to see you today, too.”

Emma “Welcome, Rio. But... shouldn’t you be at work at this time?”

Rio “Ah, I quit the day before yesterday.”

Emma “Huh, so it’s like—... you quit!?”

Rio “That’s right. That’s why I’m in the middle of searching for a highly praised job!”

Emma “Is... is that so... again...”

Because I felt like we had the same conversation just a few months ago, as his friend I got a little worried.

(He’s skillful with his hands, sociable and he has a bit of a clumsy side to him, but he’s still liked by everyone...)

Emma “Why did you quit work?”

Rio “Of course, because I am yours.”

Emma “Excuse me?”

Rio “Because, since you saved me that day, my body and my heart, I will devote everything to you.” “I can’t serve other people.”

Emma “Aaah, yes... in other words, your reason is a secret.”

The sight from the rainy day three years ago when I had picked up the collapsed and nearly dying Rio crossed my mind.

(I always thought so, but it feels like a big dog became attached to me.)

Rio “I’m always serious, okay! By the way, is the owner in?” “I wanted to talk to him in person today because I want to work here with you...”

Emma “He went out to some distant place to go shopping, so I think he won’t return for some time.”

Rio “No way...!”

I was about to tell him to give up— but seeing that Rio looked dejected like a dog with its ears down, I swallowed the words.

Emma “... You may not be able to talk to him directly, but how about asking the owner with a letter next time?”

Rio “Can I!?”

Emma “Sure. There’s also physical work to do in a bookstore, so it would be reassuring to have you here.”

Rio “Thanks, Emma. From now on I will call you Master, okay?”

Emma “No, don’t—”

Surprised by the noise that came without warning, I quickly covered my stomach.

Emma “Did... Did you hear that?”

Rio “Of course! But rest assured. I know you very well, you know.”

Smiling proudly Rio walks up to a cart.

(A cart? Since when has that been here!?)

Rio “I thought this might happen, so— ta-dah!”

The sheet on top of the cart was removed and what came to light was a mountain of food.

Emma “Wow, amazing!”

Candied fruits, truffles with a lot of cheese, rose-shaped baked sweets and apple benier— On that cart were a lot of foods that you often see at festivals.

Rio “This also doubles as my lunch, but I was in a bit of trouble since I bought too much.” “I’d be happy if you eat to your heart’s content.”

Emma “Really? Well then, thanks for the food!”

When I put the baked confectionery into my mouth, I couldn’t help but smile.

Emma “Mmh, this is so good!” “Come to think of it, wasn’t there a festival going on outside?”

Rio “Yeah. Remember, today is the National Foundation Day of the Rhodolite Kingdom!”

Part 2 — Festival of the Rose Country

Emma “Come to think of it, wasn’t there a festival going on outside?”

Rio “Yeah. Remember, today is the National Foundation Day of the Rhodolite Kingdom!” “This year, there are a lot of street stalls as well.”

Emma “I see. Were there any notable booths?”

Rio, while chewing on an apple benier, clapped his hands as he remembered.

Rio “I remember now. There was a stand with old books!”

Emma “What, really?”

Rio “Yeah, isn’t there a traveling merchant who sells books once in a while?”

(That sounds interesting... I’m REALLY interested, but I need to watch the shop...)

Rio “Off you go.”

Emma “Huh...?”

Rio “I’ll watch the shop for you.”

Emma “Are you sure?”

Rio “Whom do you take me for? I’m your future husband after all.”

Emma “... you’ve gotten that wrong, but thanks anyway, Rio!”

Rio “If you want to thank me, then a hug—”

Emma “You can get a handshake.”

I held his big hand tight, shaking it up and down and then released it.

Emma “Okay, I’m off then! You can look forward to a souvenir!”

Rio “All right!” “She’s so cute... I really hope she doesn’t get caught by some bad guys.”

The moment I left the shop, I felt like I heard Rio whisper that.

Street Vendor 1 “If it isn’t Emma! Take this rose-shaped hair ornament to commemorate the National Foundation Day.”

Emma “Wow, that’s lovely! Thank you.”

Street vendor 2 “I also recommend our rose-shaped brooches! It will surely suit you, so I’ll give you one as a present.”

Emma “Really? Thank you so much!”

I carefully put the rose-shaped works on top of the several volumes of books I bought from the traveling merchant just before. When I thanked the generous stall owners and started walking again, banners engraved with “Rhodolite Kingdom—Country of Roses” hung from the buildings along the street flitted.

(Country of Roses... That’s indeed true.)

The flowers that bloomed in the city, the products lined up at the street stalls, and even the castle one could see in the distance were all packed with roses. When I took a deep breath, a mellow scent filling up my chest, the familiar sensation made me smile.

(Okay, let’s see. I bought the books and next I need to get a souvenir for Rio...)

??? “Don’t ya watch where ya goin’? Ya shitty brat!!”

Emma “... what?”

To the dangerous voice that stood in contrast to the beautiful city, not only me but also the people around me stopped their feet. In the middle of the turmoil were a red-faced man and a boy who was sitting on the ground.

Little Boy “Waaah... sob...”

Drunkard “How ‘bout ya beg for forgiveness for crashin’ into me? Hah!?”

(... No, you don’t!)

Because of the highly raised hand, I stepped in between the drunkard and the boy without hesitation.

Drunkard “What do ya want...?”

Emma “What do you think you are doing, raising a hand against a small child like him!?”

Drunkard “Shuddup! That’s got nothin’ to do with ya!”

The clenched fist that had stopped before was now swinging down at me. When I tried to promptly shield myself, the books fell to the ground—

(Huh...?) (It doesn’t hurt?)

??? “That’s as far as you go.”

When I timidly opened my eyes... A man who had stood behind the drunkard before he knew it, strongly held on to the hand reeking of liquor.

Black-haired Man “If you kick up a fuss, I’ll be your opponent... So, how about it?”

Part 3 — Beast and Beast

Black-haired Man “If you kick up a fuss, I’ll be your opponent... So, how about it?”

Emma “Uh...”

We as well as the curious onlookers were swallowed by his unique aura and as if the tumult had been a lie, it grew silent again.

(... What a presence that person has...)

If I had to compare, the feeling of tension around him was the same as if the King of Beasts had escaped from its cage and suddenly appeared in the city. It should have been clear to everyone that this person wasn’t someone you should pick a fight with... Just as the man smiled daringly, the drunkard shook off his hand with a click of his tongue.

Drunkard “Then, why don’t ya bring it on!”

Black-haired Man “Heh, how lively.”

Emma “Please wait! A peaceful solution would—”

Drunkard “Be quiet!”

(No!)

The drunkard loudly kicked a book that was scattered on the ground. The book drew a perfect arc and, just like that, landed in the middle of the road— As if to block the path of a white horse that walked over.

??? “Oh...?”

The man riding on the white horse looked down at the book and then shot the drunkard a piercing glance.

(This person... he has an extraordinary aura as well...)

??? “Are you that impertinent miscreant?”

His sharp, freezing gaze glinted with a cruel light, just like a tiger fixating on its prey. If you happened to make even the littlest mistake, you would lose your short-lived life in that exact moment. It was that kind of tension that made your throat dry up.

(... Hmm? The coat of arms on his saddle...) (Don’t tell me he belongs to the Royal Family!?)

Drunkard “Hah!? Bastard, don’t go lookin’ down on me!”

As if to threaten the drunkard who trampled down on the book, the man from the Royal Family sharpened his look even further.

Male from the Royal Family “I did not plan to take part in such vulgar performance, but is this also a part of the festival’s entertainment?”

Emma “... eh!?”

The royal man drew the sword hanging from his waist—

(It can’t be, he’s planning to kill him!?)

My body moved without me realizing.

Emma “Cut it out already!”

Drunkard “Wah!?”

Before one could see the whole of the sword’s blade, my palm struck the drunkard’s cheek with all the strength I had. The black-haired man and the member of the Royal Family both stared at me in silent disbelief.

Drunkard “Wha—What the heck was that for!”

Emma “Calm down, will you! Or do you really want to be killed!?”

Drunkard “... kill—you mean—...”

When I silently pointed towards the coat of arms on the horse’s saddle, his deep red face turned deathly pale. Taking in the situation, I decisively turned in the direction the man on the horse.

Emma “I sincerely apologize for the trouble! If you can, please excuse what happened just now.”

Although I waited for a response, the man from the Royal Family kept quiet.

Black-haired Man “... ahahaha!”

What broke the tension of this life and death situation was a refreshing laughter.

Black-haired Man “Rest assured. That guy’s not someone who would kill people because of something like this.”

Emma “Eh...?”

Male from the Royal Family “... You have awoken my interest.”

??? “Chevalier, are you done playing?”

A man riding a chestnut horse lined up next to the white one and shrugged his shoulder as if he did that on purpose.

Chevalier “Yes. It was a waste of time.”

(Are we safe...?)

Just when I felt relieved, the sharp, tiger-like gaze was cast on the book still scattered on the ground.

Chevalier “Do these books belong to you?”

Emma “Eh, yes...”

He intently stared at the book on the ground.

(I wonder what’s with him... He’s staring really hard...)

When the man named Chevalier shifted his gaze from the book to myself, the man next to him cheerfully opened his mouth.

??? “What, this time you are hitting on someone?”

Chevalier “There is no merit in wooing a woman...”

Emma “Eh!?”

His sword was drawn in a flowing motion and the tip was thrust at my throat.

(Just... why?)

While swallowing a gasp at the sudden action, he scooped up my jaw with the flat of the blade.

Chevalier “These books, however, are different. Contrary to your body, they have value. You’d do well to remember that.”

(... It’s so painful to breathe...)

My voice wouldn’t come out no matter what—so when I managed to nod, the man returned his sword to its sheath and took hold of the horse’s reins.

(... What a terribly scary person...)

As if chasing after the white horse that stepped forward, the chestnut horse next to it started to move as well. Upon leaving, its rider gave me an amused look but left without saying a word. The moment the tension dissipated breathing, which had been so painful before, became easier again.

(I was wondering how this would end, but... I’m glad that nothing serious happened.)

With a sidelong glance towards the helpless drunkard who sat down, I faced the black-haired man after a short pause.

Emma “Thank you so much for helping me—what should I call you, Mister...?”

Leon “My name is Leon. And you don’t have to be so formal.”

Emma “Thanks then, Leon. Say, are you acquainted with the member of the Royal Family from earlier?”

Leon “Yeah, but it’s not like we ever talked that much.”

Leon picked up the books and rose-shaped decorations that were scattered on the ground in front of me.

Leon “Here you go.”

Emma “Thank you.”

(It seems neither the books nor the ornaments are damaged.)

Leon “You really love books, don’t you.”

Emma “Yes, because the stories are more interesting than reality. But more importantly...”

As I kneeled down beside the child who wiped his eyes while sobbing, Leon also lined up next to him.

Leon “Did you stop crying, shortie?”

Little Boy “Sniffle... Mama...”

Leon “So you’re lost... Then, come with me.”

Little Boy “... You’ll... bring me to Mama?”

Leon “Yeah, I’ll look for her for you.”

Leon lifted his small body with ease.

(Somehow, he seems like a totally different person than before.)

The beast-like tension around him had vanished and instead he was wrapped up in a friendly atmosphere.

Little Boy “Um, big sis... thanks for saving me.”

Emma “It was nothing. I’m just glad that you’re not hurt.”

Leon “The same goes for you. So, should we go?”

Emma “Wait, I’ll also—’

Before I could even offer to help out with searching for the boy’s mother, Leon briskly walked away while waving his hand.

(At first I thought he would be scary, but... I guess he is a nice guy after all.) (If we happen to meet once more, I have to thank him again.)

Turning my back towards the castle, visible in the distance, I once again walked through the city, where the hustle and bustle started to return.

—... at the same time.

??? “I found you at last.”

Part 4 — The Devil’s Summon

??? “I found you at last.”

A devilish smile played on the lips of the shadow hiding in a back alley.

??? “It seems training her will be worthwhile... hehehe.”

Without noticing the shadow moving about in unknown places... By the time the sky was dyed red, I finally arrived at the front of the bookstore.

(Finding a souvenir took more time than I expected. I hope Rio isn’t angry with me.)

When I opened the door while thinking of how to apologize to Rio—

??? “Welcome back, Emma.”

The person inside, sitting on the counter with his legs crossed, wasn’t Rio but a man I never saw before. I stared at him without responding to his greeting. The man simply smiled back at me. I closed the door to cut off the sinister aura I felt on my skin.

(... Just now, wasn’t there a devil-like person inside?) (No, it might have been my imagination. There’s no way there could be a devil after all.) (I’m certain I just mistook Rio for somebody else... At least I hope so.)

I took a deep breath and opened the door once more— A man with a devilish smile stood right before my eyes.

Devil-like Man “That is an extraordinary greeting, don’t you think?”

Emma “.... Mmnnh!”

The very moment I turned on my heels and tried to escape, an arm was put around my waist and my mouth was blocked.

(Why, what’s happening!?)

Devil-like Man “Please keep quiet. Otherwise, I can’t allow you to breathe.”

His words shocked me to the point I became speechless.

Devil-like Man “Due to certain circumstances I have come to pick you up.”

With a snap of the fingers of the man clad in black, multiple men surrounded me.

(Wait! Those clothes... aren’t those guards from the castle!?)

Devil-like Man “For the time being, I will take you with me.”

Emma “Mnnh!!!”

(Wait a minute, wait! What did I do...!?)

Without understanding anything, I was taken to a carriage that stopped outside—

(Wha—...)

Before I knew what was happening, the place I had been taken to was the front of the majestic castle I had only seen from a distance.

(How beautiful...) (Wait, it’s not the time for that! Why was I brought to such a place!?)

In a daze, I looked up at the castle that was so big that its tip seemed to reach up farther than the clouds, when—

??? “Hey, you are in the way.”

The surprise shook me out of my daze. I lowered my gaze when someone tapped my shoulder. What I saw there were two men dressed in gorgeous outfits.

??? “Heh, your looks aren’t half bad. Yvie, do you know her?”

Yves “I absolutely do not know any ordinary women like her. Are you sure it isn’t a woman you dumped in the past, Nokto?”

(Who are they?)

Part 5 — Eight Wild Beasts

??? “Heh, your looks aren’t half bad. Yvie, do you know her?”

Yves “I absolutely don’t know any ordinary women like her. Are you sure it isn’t a woman you dumped in the past, Nokto?”

(Who are they?)

Because of the scrutinizing gaze of the two people who drew closer, I subconsciously stepped back.

Nokto “Huh, you are really on guard... I wonder if the cause of that is because you were dumped in the past.”

Yves “Hah? So she really is a woman you threw away in the past? You really are the worst, you frivolous womanizer.”

Emma “Um... You guys, just who on earth—...“

When I cut into the seemingly uncontrollable conversation, the man called Yves exaggeratedly opened his eyes.

Yves “... Don’t tell me, you don’t know who we are?”

Emma “At the very least, it’s not like we are acquainted...”

Nokto “What, so she wasn’t my woman after all.”

Yves “I don’t care about that! Not knowing who I am is something that shouldn’t happen on any terms!”

(Woah, what the—!?)

With a bloodcurdling look Yves reached out to me. And as if to block that, a black shadow lithely fluttered about.

Devil-like Man “Your Royal Highnesses, Prince Nokto and Prince Yves, I will introduce you later.”

Nokto “So you are here. Is that girl a guest?”

Devil-like Man “That is correct. After knowing this, if you aren’t a fool, please take a guess as to what reason you are gathered for.”

Yves “... ah.”

Nokto “What, so it’s like that.”

(... What is it?)

Devil-like Man “If you understand, then please make haste towards the round table.”

Nokto “Sure, sure. I got it.”

Nokto waved his hand as he passed way too close next to me. The moment I breathed in relief, my hand was grabbed from behind.

Nokto “I’ll play with you next time, okay?”

Emma “P-Play...?”

Snickering with a seductive smile engraved on his lips, this time around Nokto really left.

(... He seems to be an incredibly flippant person.)

Yves, on the other hand, pointed his index finger at me when his eyes met mine.

Yves “I will never ever in my life recognize such a mediocre person as Belle!”

Emma “‘Belle’?”

Turning away like a cat with a ‘hmph’ of disapproval, Yves also entered the castle.

(Just where did I hear the name ‘Belle’ before? I can’t quite remember...)

Devil-like Man “Well then, Emma. Please don’t dawdle about, we will go as well.”

Emma “Wah, wait a minute...!”

The man grabbed my hand and, as if chasing the other two, we advanced into the castle. After passing through a massive door, we found ourselves in a stairwell-like hall.

(Wow, this looks as if I got lost in a picture book...)

The roses that were in full bloom and the decorations as well... Whichever you chose, it had reached the level of fine arts. For commoners it was a sight far beyond their ability that left one dizzy.

(I’m so obviously sticking out like a sore thumb.)

When my feet stopped due to the uneasiness, a suspicious look entwined me like a snake.

Devil-like Man “Oh dear, is this an expression of insubordination?”

Emma “This isn’t defiance or anything... But isn’t it time you started explaining? Who exactly are you?”

Devil-like Man “Yes... Now that you mention it, I haven’t formally introduced myself yet.”

Easier than I expected, the man released my hand while smiling calmly.

Sariel “I am called Sariel. My occupation is Government Official of the Royal Court.”

Emma “Government Official... of the Royal Court?”

Sariel “You may have been alarmed, but please rest assured. I will train you to become emotionally attached to me.”

(Train me...!?)

It seemed that rather than calling him with the imposing title of Government Official of the Royal Court, labeling him as a mysterious devil fitted him more.

Emma “Before I’m being trained, I’d like to go home, though...”

Sariel “Then that means you give up on living, right?”

He spoke with a devilish smile, as if it didn’t matter whatever I said.

Emma “... There is one thing I need to know. Rio, the one who should have been at the store,... He is safe, right?”

Sariel “Yes, of course. If you would kindly listen to what I say, I will guarantee his life at least.”

(In any case, it seems I can only obediently obey him.)

Emma “... I understand.”

When I nodded, Sariel who had brought his face closer, put the hair covering my cheek behind my ear—

Sariel “Hehehe, I cannot wait to make such a defiant person surrender.”

(... I can’t believe someone like that is a Government Official of the Royal Court...)

Unconsciously glaring back at him, Sariel gave me an amused smile and started walking again. This time, I followed the black-clothed back of my own volition.

Sariel “Now then, we have arrived.”

When the two guards standing in front of the room opened the double door— The atmosphere changed.

(What... Is this...?)

Eight men were surrounding the enshrined round table in the center of the spacious room. Just as footsteps resounded in the room, their gazes pierced me all at once. I felt so overwhelmed at the sudden unwanted attention that it left me speechless. With eight sharp glares directed at me, I stood stock still like a small animal before a beast.

(Those people are...)

Under those ferocious and wild, yet noble gazes... Were the people I met in front of the castle a moment ago, As well as the ones I saw back in town... And then...

Leon “Heh, who’d have thought we meet again.”

Emma “No way, Leon!?”

Part 6 — What the Princes Talk About

Leon “Heh, who’d have thought we meet again.”

Emma “No way, Leon!?”

(What... Is the meaning of this?)

Leon, whom I had thought to have the same simple tastes as the townspeople only a few hours ago, was now wearing refined clothes and loftily included in the group at the round table.

Sariel “You must not do that, Emma. You cannot talk in that way when you speak to the princes.”

Leon “Don’t worry. I already told you that you don’t need to be so formal.”

Emma “Leon, you are a prince?”

Leon “Yeah. All the guys here, without exception, are princes.”

(I really... Want this to be a dream...)

My body, which was unexpectedly about to collapse, was supported from behind where Sariel was. But what I felt from the hand that grasped my shoulder wasn’t kindness but rather an additional blow that said, ‘There is no place for you to run.’

Sariel "Your Highnesses, thank you very much for gathering here." “From now on, as I conveyed the other day, we will hold the approval ceremony of the ‘Belle-System.’

(‘Belle-System’? ‘Approval ceremony’...?)

Sariel “To begin with, this girl is called Emma.” “Since this is your first time meeting each other, would you please introduce yourselves starting with His Highness, Prince Luke?”

Luke “Too troublesome.”

Sariel “Your Highness.”

Luke “It’s fine, if I just do it, right?”

The man who was sitting closest to me listlessly opened his mouth.

Luke “Luke Randolph. I’m the seventh... no, more like eighth prince.”

Nokto “I’m seventh in line, Nokto Klein. You can always come over to my room, okay?” “And over here is my twin brother—“

Licht “Sixth, Licht Klein.”

Yves “The fifth prince, Yves Kloss. I have no choice but to tell you my name. Don’t address me casually, though.”

Jin “I’m Jin Grandet. I’m the eldest brother of these guys, so that makes me the first prince.” “I’m sure it will be hard with all those problem children, but, well, keep them company in moderation.”

Clavis “I am the third in line, Clavis Lelouch. You can call me Clavis.” “The show earlier was quite entertaining. Don’t you think so as well, Cheva?”

Chevalier “Nonsense.” “However, I will teach you my name considering that you escaped harm with that courageous display. Chevalier Michel, second prince.”

Leon “So I’m the last one.” “Leon Dompteur. I’m this country’s fourth prince. Again, nice to meet you, Emma.”

Emma “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you.” “Although I was called here... I don’t completely understand the situation. What is this ‘Belle-System’ in the first place?”

Yves “Huh? You didn’t even know that and still shamelessly came to the castle?”

Emma “I was downright kidnapped, thank you very much!”

Luke “Sariel, did you really kidnap her?”

Sariel “Please refrain from saying anything that would harm my reputation. I acted upon consent.”

Emma “Upon consent—?”

Sariel “You agreed, did you not?”

My meager resistance was ruthlessly cut off and I swallowed my words.

Sariel “Since long ago, the chosen citizen of this nation is to select the next king in our Rhodolite Kingdom—“ “That is your duty by becoming ‘Belle’.”

(Ah, I remember now.)

Emma “If I remember right, the name Belle means ‘a person with a beautiful heart’, right?”

Sariel “Yes, that is correct.”

(I totally forgot that since the king is replaced only every few decades.) (... wait.)

Emma “Are you telling me... that I am that Belle?”

Sariel “Haven’t I said that since before?” “I want you to select the new king out of these eight princes.”

Part 7 — Belle

Sariel “I want you to select the new king out of these eight princes.”

(Choose the king? ME!?)

That crazy story was a shock like receiving a heavy blow to the head.

Emma “Why, why me? Deciding who will be king is a serious matter for a country!”

Jin “That’s what I want to ask as well. What made you choose her, Sariel?”

Sariel “The slap she performed.”

Jin “... Haha, so that’s it.”

(With slap he can’t mean...)

Emma “Sariel, you also were at the festival venue?”

Sariel “How perceptive. I was searching the town high and low in order to find a candidate for Belle...” “But when you hit that scoundrel in His Highness Prince Chevalier’s stead right away, I was charmed by that ability.”

Emma “At–, at that time, I just desperately...”

Sariel “For humans, the more desperate we are, the more we bare our true nature.” “Your excellent ability to assess the situation and your decisiveness, as well as not to forsake the scoundrel, and your just and beautiful heart—“ “You are undoubtedly a person of exceptional talent fitting to receive the title of ‘Belle’.”

(Oh, no. No, no, just no.)

Sariel looked satisfied, but I, on the other hand, felt my uneasiness grow rapidly.

Sariel “Catching me eye is something to take pride in for generations.”

Emma “Um, I’m very grateful for what you’re saying, but accepting such an important task like being ‘Belle’ isn’t—“

Nokto “If you refuse, Sariel’s gonna cry, you know?”

Clavis “I think I really want to see that, but... There’s certainly no time for that.”

Emma “What do you mean?”

Clavis “Seeing that His Majesty the King has suddenly departed, it is necessary to quickly decide on a new king, don’t you agree?”

Emma “Suddenly means... the king has passed away!?”

Sariel “Your Highness... Wasn’t this information supposed to be concealed from the public for the time being?”

Clavis “Oops, seems I was a bit careless there. It’s fine if you cry, Sariel.”

Sariel “... Tsk.”

(Did he just click his tongue at a prince!?)

Sariel “Hehe, the inherent nature has shown itself.”

Emma “... Why are you hiding such an important thing from the public?”

Even though Sariel was carrying a sour look on his face, he took a deep breath as if he was resigning. So, he pointed his gaze towards the map hanging on the wall.

Sariel “The Rhodolite Kingdom is a small kingdom that is surrounded on all sides by three other countries.” “We have built comparatively good relationships with our ally, the country of Benitoite, and the neutral country of Jade.” “However, the great country of Obsidian alone is vigilantly eyeing our Rhodolite Kingdom for an opportunity to aim at our territory.” “I presume you have knowledge about that much?”

Emma “I do...”

Sariel “If the news about our King’s passing were to spread before our kingdom’s structure is stabilized, it is very much possible that they would take advantage of the disorder to invade our country.”

Hearing Sariel say something like that had me speechless with horror.

Sariel “When His Majesty the King actually became ill, the Obsidian, who had gotten wind of the information from somewhere, invaded the border.” “That led to the situation where the princes of our country proceeded towards the battlefield themselves to drive them away.” “Do you understand what that means?”

(Thinking about it calmly, of course I do.)

In this time when even the princes rush to the battlefield as soldiers—the weight of knowing such a secret made me break out in cold sweat.

Emma “... I won’t tell anyone about His Majesty’s passing.”

Sariel “I fear simply promising that will not be enough. There is one more thing I want to hear.”

Emma “... That’s...”

Sariel “Just as His Highness Prince Clavis has said, we need to immediately choose a new king.” “Right now, your existence is already affecting the life or death of our country.” “You will accept the position of ’Belle”, will you not?”

Emma “I do understand the circumstances, but as expected I’m not suited to—“

Sariel “Well then, Your Highnesses, Prince Leon and Prince Chevalier, if you approve of her as ‘Belle’ then please raise your hands.”

(You just ignore what I said!?)

Chevalier raised his hand before anyone else.

Nokto “Oh, how fast, Your Highness.”

Luke “Is it okay for a leader to be so half-minded?”

Chevalier “Naturally, since it doesn’t concern me who will become Belle.”

Emma “What does he mean, ‘leader’?”

Sariel “The princes are divided into two major factions, centered on Prince Leon and Prince Chevalier.” “His Highness Prince Leon’s faction who value domestic affairs and His Highness Prince Chevalier’s faction who value foreign affairs. That is about all it amounts to, I guess.” “Since the consensus of each of the princes is polarized, the resolution is often entrusted to Prince Leon and Prince Chevalier.”

(I see... So that’s why he asked the two of them right now.) (No, more importantly—)

Without regard for my opinion, Sariel continued to talk.

Sariel “What about you, Prince Leon?”

Everyone’s eyes gathered at him.

Leon “Emma, let’s hear what you intend to do.”

Part 8 — A Tale Yet to be Seen

Leon “Emma, let’s hear what you intend to do.”

Emma “I want...”

When I tried to say that it would be impossible, just as I had said many times before... My words were absorbed by Leon’s ascertaining eyes.

Leon “I think you have the capability to determine the next king.”

Emma “... That’s not true. I mean, there’s nothing special about me. I’m just a commoner.”

Leon “All of the former ‘Belle’s’ have been commoners.”

Emma “No way...”

Leon “Why do you think does something like the ‘Belle-System’ exist in the first place?”

Emma “... I don’t know.”

When I answered honestly, Leon raised the edges of his mouth.

Leon “Then, do you know what the people from the Royal Family are called out on the streets?”

(That, of course I know.)

Emma “—‘Noble beasts’, right?”

Leon “Yeah. A long time ago, the people of this nation assessed the inhumane royals who struggled for power all the time as ‘beasts’. But since then, those who inherited the blood of the Royal Family have come to be called ‘noble beasts’.”

(I remember that as a kid, I once thought that the members of the Royal Family were all densely covered in thick hair.)

Emma “But that is just an old story, isn’t it?”

Leon “No, every single one of the guys present is a beast who only holds the desire to act in his self-interest.” “Devouring people for their ambitions and ideals... Even that was probably done without batting a damn eyelid.”

(Saying they devoured people feels like a bit too much...)

That was what I thought, but the eyes of the princes were too fierce to just laugh it off.

Leon “In fact, we princes are sometimes referred to as ‘beasts’ when slaughtering enemies on the battlefield.” “Do you think the guys in front of you can still turn into good boys, though?”

In that moment, I didn’t know how to answer his question.

(I still don’t know anything about them. And each of these guys might seem like a beast on the surface.)

Leon “That’s why we need a ‘Belle’.” “So that we can turn from beast to human through the example of someone from among the citizens with a particularly beautiful heart.” “Moreover, only a human with a pure and righteous heart can choose a ‘man’ and not a beast as the king, don’t you think?”

Emma “Although that may be true, I don’t have such a noble heart.”

Sariel “Oh my, am I right to assume you don’t trust my word?”

Emma “No way, I wouldn’t dare...!”

Sariel “Of course you would not, right? You are, after all, ‘Belle’ who owns a pure, righteous, and beautiful heart. My word is absolute.”

(He’s so pushy...)

Leon “The rest is up to you. If you really don’t want to, then I’m willing to push this matter aside...” “However, you said you love stories, right?”

Emma “... Well, I did say that, but...”

For some reason, Leon grinned at me as if he was sure of his victory.

Leon “Doesn’t choosing a king seem like a much more interesting story than the ones in books?”

(When he says it like that...)

Leon “Furthermore, you are the story’s protagonist. Such an opportunity doesn’t come often, does it?”

(... Leon’s really cunning, phrasing his words like that.)

The age where I wished for something fierce like a fictional story was long past. But in truth... While the people around me are changing, I am the only one who remains unchanged. I was always desperately wishing for something that would rewrite my ordinary life.

(I have a lot of insecurities and the responsibility is heavy. I know I can’t do this with half-hearted feelings.) (Still... Something may change.)

The thought of a yet-unseen tale made my heart beat faster and my body get hot.

Leon “What will you do, Emma?”

(What I want to do is...)

As not to lose the resolution I gathered, I clasped my hands tightly—

Emma “... I want to do it.”

When I told him my unadorned feelings in those few words, Leon directly raised his hand.

Sariel “With that, it is decided I presume.”

Without letting the atmosphere linger, Chevalier briskly left his seat.

Leon “You’re going already?”

Chevalier “Our business is over.”

Clavis “Wouldn’t it be better to flatter Belle a bit?”

Chevalier “That’s just a waste of my time.” “It doesn’t matter who Belle chooses. It won’t change the fact that I will become the future king.”

His words had me so baffled that the only thing that left my mouth was a startled sound. Chevalier’s ice-cold gaze that seemed to freeze everything it touched caught me.

Chevalier “If you get in my way, I will dispose of you. That is what I plan to do.”

His cruel words left me speechless. Similar to the time when he thrust his sword at my throat, just his gaze made it painful to breathe.

(This person... He is terrifying.)

Clavis, who followed after the leaving Chevalier, tapped my shoulder as he passed me.

Clavis “I’m sorry for Cheva’s behavior.” “Well, I don’t have interest in the throne, but I like amusing things. Please entertain me with your way of life, okay little girl?”

While I was captivated by his brilliant smile, the footsteps of those two grew distant and they disappeared behind the door.

Sariel “Really now, it seems that I haven’t disciplined them enough.”

Next to Sariel, who sighed deeply, this time a hand was raised, waving.

Nokto “Hey, Sariel. Got a question.”

Sariel “Please go ahead and ask, Your Highness.”

Nokto “Belle choosing a king means, to put it bluntly, the guy who wins this girl over is going to become the king, right?”

Sariel “Plainly spoken, that is what will happen.”

Obtaining Sariel’s consent, Nokto turned his face to me—

Nokto “Well, since I’ll seduce you, let’s get along, okay?”

(He’s going to do what!?)

Part 9 — The King and the Rose

Nokto “Well, since I’ll seduce you, let’s get along, okay?”

(He’s going to do what!?)

Emma “That would be troub—“

Sariel “You are truly quick to understand, Your Highness.”

Yves “Ugh, I can’t listen to this anymore!” “To seduce her... Nokto, as a prince, aren’t you lacking pride and self-awareness?”

Nokto “If that’s what you think, don’t interfere. Got it, Yvie?”

Yves “Why would I have to listen to what you say?”

Ignoring me, Sariel and the princes continued talking.

Jin “What, even Yves ended up wanting to seduce her? You’re quite a busy one, aren’t you?”

Yves “Even if she is a commoner, for the time being she is Belle. She is necessary for me to be deemed as worthy of the throne.”

Emma “Then pick a different way to be acknowledged!”

Jin “Ooh, that’s an extremely respectable opinion.”

Luke “How should I put it, you should stop it soon. Don’t you see you’re troubling her?”

As Luke stood up from his seat, the others became quiet.

Luke “Emma... was it, right? If something happens, you can rely on me.”

Emma “Thank you very much, Your Highness.”

Luke “Stop that. Just Luke is fine and you don’t have to be polite.”

Emma “But...”

Luke “You’re addressing Leon familiarly as well, aren’t you? Drop the title with me, too. I don’t like it anyway.”

Emma “... Okay, then I’ll call you Luke.”

Luke “Good.”

Yves “Wait a minute! Didn’t you end up seducing her as well!?”

Jin “No, you got that wrong. That’s just how Luke’s natural character is. You guys as well, do the best you can.”

Jin took a lollipop out of his breast pocket and put it in his mouth.

Leon “Jin, do you think this is other people’s business?”

Jin “Yeah. Because I don’t give a shit about something like ascending to the throne.”

(Give a shit, he said...)

Nokto “I’m fine with whatever, so as a sign of our acquaintanceship, just call me Nokto, okay?”

Yves “I won’t allow that, understood? Make sure to address me with my title.”

Jin “Well, I dislike all that formal phrasing. Call me whatever you like.”

Emma “Then, I will call you Nokto, Yves and Jin.”

Yves “... Hey, are you even listening to what people are saying?”

Licht “... So stupid.”

(... What’s with him?)

Licht, who had only barely opened his mouth other than for the self-introduction, stood up.

Yves “Licht! Don’t always say things that push people away. Do you want your friends to leave?”

Licht “There weren’t any from the start. And I don’t need any.”

Yves “Because you’re again trying to be alone immediately—“ “Ah, wait, Licht! Where are you going!?”

Licht “Returning to my room.”

Nokto “Licht... You don’t have any interest in the throne?”

Licht “... No need to answer.”

Casting down his eyes, Licht left the room just like that.

(Somehow... He seems like someone who is hard to talk to.)

Yves “Really now, that guy...”

Emma “Wanting to be the king, not wanting to be the king... You really have various opinions, don’t you?”

Leon “Even though we are all half-brothers, our thoughts and everything else differ.”

Emma “By the way, what about you, Leon?”

Grinning, he returned a smile that said more than words could.

Leon “Determine with your own eyes whether I’m capable of becoming the king, okay?”

Emma “... All right.”

When I nodded in agreement, the sound of hands clapping quieted the place.

Sariel “I apologize for saying this during your pleasant talk. However, since there is a place I wish to show her, let’s end this meeting here.”

With Sariel leading the way, we walked into a room even more gorgeous than the one with the round table.

(This... It must be the audience hall.) (What to do...? I’ve come to an incredible place.)

What I saw at the end of the red carpet were only the throne and... In addition to that, a rose inside a glass dome.

Emma “What is that rose for?”

Sariel “For generations, on the occasion of His Majesty the King finding his demise, it has become the custom to prepare a rose.” “The rule is that the next king has to be determined by the time all of its petals have fallen.”

Emma “So there is a time limit.”

Sariel “Indeed. This rose is a special breed which continues to bloom for approximately one month.”

(One month... Within that period a new king has to be determined.)

Sariel stopped his feet near the throne and looked back at me.

Sariel “Other than that, all of the terms and conditions concerning the Belle-System are recorded in this covenant.”

(Sorry?)

With a snap of his fingers, the guards who briskly appeared, carrying a table made from oak trees and several sheets of paper completely covered with unusually small letters.

Emma “You’re not seriously telling me I have to read all this, right?”

Sariel “You are asking me something so blatantly obvious?”

(Your true nature again!?)

Sariel “If you have looked over all of this, please sign the covenant.”

Emma “You are sure saying some devilish things.”

Sariel “Because it is necessary. Once you have signed, I will guide you to your room.”

Emma “Okay... Wait, what?”

Sariel “What is the matter?”

Part 10 — Beauty and the Beast’s Covenant

Sariel “Once you have signed, I will guide you to your room.”

Emma “Okay... Wait, what?”

Sariel “What is the matter?”

Emma “Sariel, did you just say you will guide me to a room?”

Sariel “That is what I said.”

Emma “MY room?”

Sariel “Where else would I take you?”

Emma “To my home back in the town, perhaps?”

Sariel “A room for you has been prepared by the Royal Court.” “Because until the one who was selected as Belle has finished their duty, they are to live inside the castle.”

(That can’t be—)

My face grew pale at those unhesitatingly uttered words.

Emma “But that is troubling! What will become of the shop!?”

Sariel “I have already contacted the owner and arranged for a temporary employee.”

Emma “What about the mountain of food that was inside the shop!?”

Sariel “Everything has been moved to your room.”

Emma “Then, where’s Rio!?”

Sariel “Of course, right over here.”

When Sariel snapped his fingers—

Rio “Emma, it’s been a few hours! I really wanted to see you.”

Emma “What the—!?”

Rio who suddenly entered the audience hall was dressed like I had never seen him before.

(He looks like a butler... Or rather, he’s like a real one.)

Emma “Rio... What’s with that get-up?”

Rio “I decided to officially get a job here.”

Emma “Inside the castle!?”

Sariel “There is a single employee benefit in the Belle-System. Pets are allowed inside the Royal Castle.”

Emma “With pet you’re referring to...”

Sariel “This pet of yours, of course.” “When I entered the bookstore, he was barking so persistently that he didn’t leave me a choice but to take him along.”

Rio “Why, Emma was suddenly chosen as a candidate for Belle, so I was just a bit flustered, you know.” “I’m really glad that Sariel is such a reasonable person.”

It was the first time a saw Sariel at a loss for words.

Emma “Sariel, aren’t you looking a bit tired?”

Sariel “Of course I am not... hehe.”

(Something must have happened between those two.)

A small cough, as if going back to square one, resounded in the place.

Sariel “Since he’s just right, I will let him be your caretaker.” “Properly follow your master’s orders, hound.”

Rio “Yes! Emma, whatever happens, I will protect you. So don’t worry, okay?”

Emma “Thanks, Rio. And... Sorry for getting you involved.”

Rio “Not at all. Rather, to think that the day actually came when I can call you Master... Aah, it’s like a dream come true!”

Emma “You’re not calling me that, right?”

(But... Having the usual Rio here with me is really reassuring.)

Sariel “Well now, play with your pet later and quickly read the terms and conditions, please.”

Urged to do so, I once again attempted my fight with the documents... But with this pace it would be late at night by the time I finished reading.

(Aah, seriously... Reading all of this is impossible after all!) (Enough already, I’ll take my time reading it later.)

I flipped through the document in a hurry and reached for the prearranged quill pen. When I wrote down my name on the covenant, Sariel traced around the letters in satisfaction.

Sariel “Thank you very much. With this you have now officially become Belle.” “Our princes are an assembly of peculiar people who can’t be dealt with by ordinary means.” “But, please, choose a good king with your pure heart, will you?”

Emma “... Yes. I will, without fail, show you that I can fulfill my duty.”

This was the first time I felt like Sariel was sincerely smiling.

Rio “Okay, Emma. This is a bit sudden, but shall we go to our new love nest?”

Emma “You’re talking about your own room, right? Thanks, I’ll count on you to lead the way.”

(I have a lot of worries about this, but...) (Since this is something I chose myself, I will never regret it.)

When I looked back, one of the deep crimson petals had fallen inside the glass dome.

(Getting to know them, getting to know the country... and determining the king.)

After Emma and Rio had left the throne room.

Sariel “I think I will be truly busy from now on.”

With the wind that blew through the door left wide open, the letters spelled on the very last page of the overlapping official papers which would later on be what severely disturb our fates were revealed...

Covenant Clause 99 『After the selection period has finished, absolutely any relationship between “Belle” and the Crown is prohibited.』

But this was something nobody knew just yet at that time—...

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

Omggg I was so scared that your request gonna be closed. But it open. oMg. Ok, I’m here tp fullfilled my fantasy💕 Canwe pleaseeeee have Rengoku Kyoujurou x Little Sister Figure!Reader (Part 3) 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Omg I just love how s/o went so well with the Rengoku family. I know this wasn’t meant to be parted. But still, I couldn’t. No rush. Take your time.💕 I know you still got lots of requests. I love to read those too💕💕💕💕

Me, on part 2: hahaha, this is cute, I’m kinda proud of this. I like to make it “hanging”, let’s just leave the rest to the reader. I dunno if this end works but-

Readers: *demanded for part 3*

Me: shit.

Rengoku Kyoujurou x Little Sister Figure (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

After the train incident, Kyoujurou retired and you continued your path as Pillar. Just say, you’re replacing him as Flame Pillar and started to take your own tsugako. He still taught his own students too.

Everything still the same, except Kyoujurou now wearing black eye patch

And one more.

You tend to avoid the “Be my wife” talks with Kyoujurou.

You still talked to him and be with him like daily basis, but every time he mentioned something about marriage, you always got an excuse to not talk about it.

“So, about the-”

“Ahh… I have something to do. Later, Aniki!!”

“Do you still consider about my-”

“Ops! I forgot that my tsugako waiting in the dojo now! Mustn’t be late!”

“Right, (y/n), which one do you prefer traditional or modern?”

“…what?”

“You know, the mar-”

“Waaah!!! I had to meet Oyakata-sama now. Bye!”

He’s actually mad towards his ‘little sister’

HE

REALLY

PISSED

OFF

But he did his best to not show you his true emotion. The dark aura always emitted after you 'ran’ away from him. Senjurou could feel it, his big brother was angry. He already knew that Kyoujurou has confessed to you.

“Ani-ue, are you okay? Nee-chan probably still embarrassed about it. You confessed to her out of blue… And with straightforward asking too.” He comforted Kyoujurou who sulked in kotatsu. “What about, don’t bring it up for awhile, she’s uncomfortable.”

“I know, but at least, don’t ignore the conversation like that.” He put his chin on the table. Senjurou really reminded him of their father when they pouted.

“I will try to talk to her.” said Senjurou gently. “Maybe she’ll understand.”

Kyoujurou looked at outside, it’s snowy. He only could see white on the yard, and some vague lanterns lit up.

It’s really cold huh. I wonder where did she go, did she put on layers, he’s wondering.

When you went back home, he greeted you on the living room, cheered up and being sunshine big bro again.

You smiled and greeted him back. He caught you and covered you with his big body, along with his haori, made you seated on his lap, back to chest.

“A-Aniki?!”

“Kotatsu is the best- Uwah, cold.” He touched your cheek with his, rubbing it. He put your palm on his hands, tried to make it warm. “You didn’t wear extra layer?”

“Already did that. But it’s useless. I’m okay though, I like winter!”

“Huh…” He strengthened his embrace towards your cold body. You blushed and grasped on his arms.

“B- By the way, Aniki. Have you change your eye patch?”

“Not yet.” You turned around.

“Then let me treat it.” You stood up and disappeared from the door. You came back, bringing new patch and some oint treatment.

Slowly, you took off his old eye patch. You applied warmed wet tissue, smeared oint treatment with cotton on his left eye, dried it up again and put new eye patch.

He stared at you with his right eyes. Perfect, adorable, alluring, dazzling, fit to be my wife and mother of my children.

“Um, please don’t stare too much. It’s really embarrassing…”

“Haha! Sorry!”

It’s a shame that he had to hold his urge to marry her now.

“Done.” You slipped out his bangs. “Tell me if it’s not comfortable.”

“All is fine! Let’s sit and enjoy the-”

“Great, I’ll help Senjurou on the dinner.” You left him while carrying the treatments and old patch.

He sulked in the kotatsu again.

Yeah, you just avoided the topic, not his entire well-being. You still treated his wounds and else.

“Nee-chan, how is your works?” Senjurou peeled carrots.

“Good!” You put miso paste on your cooking.

“…if something make you uneasy because of Ani-ue, I apologize. It’s the first time he’s being eager like this.”

“It’s okay.” You shook your head. “I’m just… Surprised.”

“Nee-chan, do you love my brother?”

You stopped for awhile.

Did I love him?

Even though, all I do is regarding his position as my brother?

“I- I’m sorry, Nee-chan! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“…still think about it.” You patted his hair. “I’m sorry, Senjurou. You had to deal with us like this.”

You couldn’t bring anyone more in your relationship. Like it or not, you had to think and resolve it as soon as you can

Kyoujurou never brought up about that proposal again, he still poured his affections towards you like always.

Until one night, when you were on your way headed to home, crow from headquarters was coming to you.

“Emergency! Emergency! Go to West Village! 2 Lower Moons spotted insight! Emergency! Emergency! 10 Kanoe were injured! 3 died!”

You gripped your sword. You sent a letter thorough your crow to Kyoujurou, told him that you will not be home tonight. Then ran to the said direction.

Kyoujurou received that letter, he clenched it.

“Lower Moon these days are getting stronger, it really troublesome.”

“Trust her more, Ani-ue. She’s Hashira too, just like you.”

You finally accomplished your mission, two Lower Moons were defeated. Kakushis were sent out to brought injured lower rank demon slayers.

You saw their corpses, they even didn’t have intact shape anymore.

“(y/n)-sama, we will help you to bury their bodies.”

“No need, I’ll do it alone. Just treat those who survived.”

“But, you have wounds too-”

“I’m fine. Now, go.”

“If you insisted…”

All of the small funeral works were done by you. You didn’t get disturbed by the cold feeling. You made sure that here is the best place for them to rest in peace.

“Thank you for your hard work. May we met again on yomi.” You clasped both of your hand and prayed in front of their tomb.

You walked away and headed home.

“Ah.” You didn’t realize there were injuries on your left stomach. It was small wounds at first, but looks like it’s widening. “I’m so careless. Maybe Aniki scolded me again.” You really thought you could hold it.

But suddenly, there was great blizzard coming on your way.

All you could see was white, it’s not even white, it became blurry. There were no shelters around. It became difficult for you to move forward, but you didn’t have any choice. You had to move or else, you die.

The wound on your left worsened, your fingertips became numb. Again, you forgot with the extra layer and now kinda regret not listening to Kyoujurou.

You used your sword as your crutch, helping you walk forward.

What is the worst case?

Ah, the grumbling sound behind you. You didn’t even had brief moment to react, snow slides collided with your body and dragged you down.

You’re panicking, tried to find oxygen with your lungs but it’s really difficult to even grasped on something. It made you upside down.

The slide finally stop, you just stayed on your place, with snow almost burying all of your body. Your face became numb and you couldn’t feel your outer body anymore.

You were facing towards the sky. It’s still blizzard.

You wanted to raise your hand or shouted for help, but you’re too weak and tired for doing so. The blood on your stomach became even worst, it started to permeate on the snow, and make it red.

'Am I dying here?’

Kyoujurou ever told you to stay calm in any state of death verge. So, you used his technique to breath calmly, trying to stop your own bleed

But it’s useless because the cut really deep right now. Instead of thinking your wound, you just let yourself to breath casually, simply to stay alive for a moment.

'Aniki… I’m sorry… If I didn’t make it…-No, you saved my life, I can’t let this chance slipped anymore. I had to stay alive.’

You knew that once you sleep inside this snow, you’ll die. But you had to do this to make your breathe stable.

'Because… I had to tell him my real feelings… I had to stay alive.“

You closed your eyes and fall into half asleep state, like frog on their hibernation. You still conscious, but you’re actually in verge of death and alive.

After some time, you heard a vague sound of your name being called. That must be Kakushi, you thought.

Looks like they found you, you could feel they digging up your body and took you out. They checked your breathe with their ears on your chest.

”….stil…brea…ang…on…“

You couldn’t hear what are they saying. They carried your body and you could feel warm blanket wrapped around your body.

'Warm.’ After that, you totally collapsed.

When you snapped your eyes open, you saw white ceiling. But you know this is not Butterfly Estate ward. You were asleep inside a white futon, not a bed.

Slowly, you looked at your right, there is tray with medicines and water-filled glass on top of it.

And you turned around to your left.

Wait, what?! Kyoujurou?! How did he come here?!

He sat with his leg crossed, his head bowed down, looks like he was asleep in that position.

You slowly pushed your blanket and sat down. You felt sting and sharp pain on your stomach. You covered your mouth, tried to hold your voice.

Fuh, you didn’t wake him up.

You moved towards him and scanned his face calmly. He still handsome and fierce as ever.

His cape dropped from his shoulder. You stood up and took the cape.

There’s blood stain on it.

'Is it mine? I didn’t see him injured. Then, the one who saved me wasn’t Kakushi?’

You’re putting back his cape on his shoulder, 'It’s cold. I wonder if the blizzard has stopped?’

”…yomoya, yomoya da.“

You jolted and jumped back to your futon, sitting on it.

"A-Aaa- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you up!!”

“I see you became energetic again!” He lifted his hand and put it on your shoulder. “If I didn’t receive your letter, you probably died now. That place is really dangerous on Winter.”

“Ahaha, yeah.” You chuckled in hesitant. “Thank you, Ani-”

“And also, how many times do I had to tell you to put on extra layers, you even refused Kakushi’s help, you already knew you wounded and yet, you still had the audacity?”

Uh-oh, this sinister aura. He probably smiled, but he really pissed right now.

“I’m sorry.” You looked down, playing with your finger. “I promised, I will not let my guard down anymore.”

“Then, it’s okay if you finally understand!” He stood up. “I will call the doctor, so, wait.”

When the doctor examined you, he told you that you probably died if in one minute, he didn’t come to save you.

“And you’re lucky, because your husband body felt like walking heater, so you stayed warm.” He laughed. “Good for you! Good for you!”

“…”

“…”

“Di- did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, no! It’s just… I’m not… His wife…”

“Not yet!” He grinned towards the doctor. “Even if she warmed by body heat, I’m still not succeeding to melt her heart.” You grabbed your blanket, and feeling your face burning. Kyoujurou, you prick!!!!

“Well, good luck on that! I shall take my leave now. Oh, (y/n), this is my house, so don’t hesitate to ask anything!”

“Sure, thank you.”

When he left, it’s just between you two now.

It became awkward.

“You should rest.” He started to cover you with blanket. “I’ll make sure no demon heading here.”

“Kyoujurou, wait!”

He surprised because you didn’t use Aniki. He paused his movements.

“About the- about your proposal…” You clutched onto your blanket. “I’ve thought about it.”

Ok, come on! Come on, me! You could do this! Don’t be so embarrassed!!

“Yes, I do.” You looked straight at his eyes, burning with passion. “Yes, I want to be your wife!!”

…

…

He suddenly tearing up.

“E- Eh? Whaaaaat??? Did I say something wrong?” You panicked and wipe his tears.

“No, that’s not it. I’m so happy!!” He cupped both your cheek and sticked his forehead with yours. “You’re so cute, I really want to attack you right now. But first, you should recover.”

He just looked straight at your eyes, intensely. You grabbed his hand which cupped your cheek.

Something really made both of you inside your own world. He moved himself towards you, you closed your eyes.

And then, lips meet lips. He felt your lips so smooth and soft. He didn’t bring you in rough kiss. Only gentle and deep kiss.

He broke his contact when the lung ran out of oxygens.

“That’s… My first kiss…”

“Me too!” He giggled. “I didn’t know it felt really good with you.” You blushed again.

“Uh…”

“Now, you should rest.” He covered you with your blanket. You pulled his haori, while averting your eyes.

“Can you- Can you sleep with me?” He blinked twice and his mind goes nyooooom

“O- Of course, hahaha!!” He tugged himself beside you. He turned and faced you. “I won’t do anything weird. So, rest.” He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead

'Warm.’ You thought again and slowly drifting away.

The news of him proposing to you were spread like plague. Everyone congratulating you.

“I know you’ll end up with him!”

“Hah, sister-brother my ass.”

But there’s one obstacle both of you had to fight before wedding.

Yes, traditional engagement. Kyoujurou had to ask your parents, asking if they really let you marry with him.

But, you didn’t have parents anymore, right? That shouldn’t be a problem.

“What do you mean she didn’t have parents. I’m literally her father.” Shinjurou looked down at Kyoujurou.

Ah, yes. Shinjurou really didn’t let this slip huh.

“Then, what should I do?” Kyoujurou asked Shinjuro

“Ask me.”

Sounds simple. Kyoujurou was really confident. He bowed down deeply towards Shinjurou

“Father, I loved her ever since we met. I promised to take care and protect her. With my deepest heart, please let me marry her.”

“Rejected.”

“What?!”