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vaokses · 4 months ago

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How long this love can hold its breath

Series Masterlist / General Masterlist

Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: It has been years since your mother took you from King's Landing to join her in Dragonstone. Years since you and Aegon have seen one another. Years in which he has refused, time and time again, to marry, even as you tour Westeros meeting suitors in search of a husband of your choosing. That refusal can easily be undone with a few words: it was you she chose, Aegon.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Alicent's abuse of Aegon. Alcohol/drunkenness. Mentions of sex/prostitution. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Arranged marriage stuff. Angst. Hurt and kind of no comfort for now.

Some AU/Setting stuff: Reader is a bastard of Daemyra (claimed by Laenor of course), firstborn child of Rhaenyra and heir to her mother's claim. She rides Vermithor. As you'll figure out thorugh this one shot, she and Aegon had a thing when she was still in King's Landing. How relevant or impactful that 'thing' was depends on who of the two you ask. I've stretched the timeline a bit. Rhaenyra spent a few years more in King's Landing (making Aegon around 16/7 when she leaves, and the Reader, the eldest of the Velaryons, around 14/5). Instead of six years in Dragonstone, the Blacks have spent around three there in this story. Viserys still lives (and is rotting slightly slower), Aegon and Helaena did not marry.

A/N: My first work in this fandom, so i'm a bit nervous. This is a bit of a prologue/alternate PoV for a series I have in the works, but I wanted to share it as a one shot since I think it also works as one. I hope you like this!

Title is from the quote "I've hoarded your name in my mouth for months. My throat is a beehive pitched in the river. Look! Look how long this love can hold its breath." - Sierra DeMulder

It feels as if he has just rested his head on his pillow when he hears the heavy doors being pushed open, and the familiar hurried steps of his mother as she enters his apartments.

He isn’t sure why he bothers by now in telling the guards not to let her in, since she insists on overruling his orders whenever she wishes.

Still half-asleep, Aegon reaches for the bedsheet covering his body, wary of any attempt she might make in her anger to pull it off him. Surprisingly, his mother stops a few steps away from the foot of the bed.

Aegon feels her piercing gaze on him, and aware the choice is between caving and chasing after her, asking her what it is she wants; or waiting for the anger at his unwillingness to follow the unspoken command -and the thrown object, or the stinging hit, that comes after said anger-; he drags his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself further and asks,

��What is it, mother?”

“Where in the Father’s name were you? Three days, Aegon,” He winces at the reprimand. In his defense, he truly didn’t think they’d notice. Helaena would, perhaps, but she wouldn’t seek him out either way. “You were gone for three days.”

“I wasn’t…far. I didn’t even leave King’s Landing.”

She starts letting out a sigh, laced with disappointment and annoyance, but stops herself short, instead turning her back to him and pacing a few steps away.

“I know where it is you go to…to satiate your vices, caring not for the shame it brings to your name and mine, behaving most unlike your station.”

“Then why did you ask?”

His mother won’t turn to look at him, her back turned to him and her hands joined in front of her.

“Your sister was here.”

His brow furrows in confusion.

“My sister is always here.”

“Rhaenyra was here, Aegon.”

“Oh. What for?”

Alicent turns on her side, considers him with eyes widened in afront and mouth curled in disgust. The question leaves her lips slowly, a threat and a dare all at once.

“Are you still drunk?”

He mulls over the question for a few moments, and realizes his thoughts are entirely too calm for him to be already sober. The numb haziness of the night before remains, a comfort.

“I think I might be,” He admits, eyes darting to the side and lingering on the pitcher of wine on a nearby table. He wonders if it is empty. “Slightly.”

When it seems his mother is intent on merely staring at him in disappointment, he motions for her to turn away and gets dressed.

He can’t help but feel unseemly, standing before his mother in rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, while she stands tall with not a strand of hair out of order, not a speck of dust on her dress. Then again, even at his best he hasn’t managed not to feel small, unsuited, by comparison.

Instead of letting those thoughts linger, aided by the comfortable haze the wine from the previous night -or nights, rather- provides him with, Aegon moves to sit on a table in one of the darker parts of the room.

Alicent follows quietly, but she doesn’t sit.

“I come here with news. You are to be married, n-…”

He shakes his head with a mocking laugh, the defiance as easy as breathing, after four years of holding the same stance. He might not have a say in much, but he does in this.

“No, I’m not.”

“Your father has approved of this union. As have I.”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Then you are welcome to marry her yourselves. I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you three.”

Sometimes, perhaps in foolish hope, in some hollow fantasy, he thinks his impertinence amuses his mother. He might imagine it, he’s quite certain he does, but sometimes he swears she furrows her lips to hide the faintest of smiles.

But of course, she shows no give, betrays not a flicker of amusement, of softness, of anything. Try as he might to earn any of them.

“I did not come here to entertain insolence.”

“Why did you come here, mother?” He asks, not able to reign in the restless movements of his hands, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the table. “My stance hasn’t changed. And it won’t.”

The restlessness building within her is betrayed in the small movements of her hands that increase in intensity the longer she looks at him. With a sudden movement, she slams a hand on the table between them and leans closer.

“You cannot go on like this, Aegon, shrinking your duty because of the denial of a caprice of your youth.”

“It was the one thing I asked for. I haven’t asked for anything since, nor did I ask for anything before.”

His mother scoffs in response, looking away.

“And that is reason enough for your wish to be granted?” She asks, derisive, almost jeering. Alicent leans back, straightens her stance again. Not too unlike Aemond adjusting his posture to strike with his sword during training, he supposes. “You have gone through your entire life doing as you please, not considering the cost to your family, to your House, to me, and you expected to be rewarded?”

But he has considered the cost, has had no choice but to consider it, when every choice, every action, it seems almost every thought, is heavy with the impact it might have on his name, on his family. He has considered the cost, but try as he might no choice, no action, has been enough.

“It would have…It would have changed things. If you had said yes,” He argues, an argument repeated, in his head if not aloud, a thousand times over in these passing years. And yet restlessness builds within him regardless, and he finds himself grasping at the table to keep his hands from fidgeting. “It was the smart choice. You know father would have been for it. You could have kept Vermithor on our side, and given them no choice but to play by our rules with their daughter here. We might have won this war you want so b-…”

“All I have wanted is to make sure your lives are not forfeit when your father dies. It is not war I want.”

“Then why did you say no?”

She shakes her head as she looks away again.

“The matter is settled. Long settled.”

“Yet you never told me why.”

He wants to hear it. More than an apology for denying him a chance at happiness, more than an admission that beyond the feelings of any involved it was the smartest choice, more than anything, he wants to hear her tell him why.

She didn’t even hear his reasons, she didn’t even consider proposing the union to your mother, or Viserys. She dismissed him, and denied him, without even a second thought.

He wants to know the reason why. If it was because she knew of you something he didn’t, and was certain you would have rejected him even at the cost of your home and life as you knew it, he wants to know. If it was because she believes him so monstrous that she wished to protect even the daughter of her lifelong adversary from him, he wants to know.

If it was because in his weakness and his failings he has made himself into something even his own mother wishes to see punished, or because there was something he did -because it had to be something he did, there cannot be so many that were supposed to love him and refuse to for it not to be something he is doing wrong, something about him that is wrong- that not only managed to make his mother’s love for him vanish, but also earned him her scorn, he wants to know. He thinks knowing that to be the truth would splinter him in a way he isn’t sure he’d be able to recover from, but he is tired, and alone, and he wants to know why.

He searches his mother’s gaze, desperate for an answer, any answer. She looks back, and yet all that is reflected back at him is contempt, disappointment, and what he fears is disgust.

“It has been years, Aegon. You are being senselessly stubborn, holding onto this…this grudge against me.”

He makes a face at her words, and grabs the pitcher in the table before him only to find it empty, the only wine remaining being that still in the half-filled cup.

“It is not a grudge, I-..”

“Weakness, then,” She sentences, and he doesn’t bother hiding the flinch at her words. His gaze lowers to the table before him. “You’re being a fool, if you think after all this t-…”

His eyes are set on the half-full cup of wine before him, and he doesn’t dare move his gaze as he interrupts, “I am not marrying, mother.”

She considers him in silence, and though for a moment he thinks a hit is to come -he doesn’t usually get away with interrupting her-, followed by her footsteps leaving the room, his mother takes a deep breath and insists,

“It is not me or your father who request this of you. It is your King who commands it.”

“The King, or his Hand?” He retorts. He grabs at the cup and downs the remaining liquid, making a face at the taste of stale wine, and presses on, “I’m guessing a Baratheon, to earn Borros’ support? Or a Tully, to secure the Riverlands?”

For the briefest of moments, when his mother’s lips press into a thin line, hands fidgeting where they rest joined before her, he thinks he finally got the upper hand. That he proved he isn’t as blind to their plots and their increasing panic at Rhaenyra’s influence as he may appear. That he proved her wrong, that he showed he isn’t as incompetent as they’d like to think, that he…

“A Velaryon,” Alicent admits, and any pride, any satisfaction, die out like flames in a room without air. His lips part, he knows not for what since all that leaves them is a choked breath, the beginning of a question, of a name. Aegon searches his mother’s gaze, attempts to find any truth, any certainty, but Alicent looks away. Her next words sound as if heard from underwater. “To keep you from certain execution when your sister ascends the Iron Throne.”

“Do not toy with me, mother,” He means for it to sound like an accusation, like a demand, like anything but a plea, and yet that is what leaves his lips. Betrayed by the waver in his voice, by the iron grip on the glass, he goes on, “She’s touring the whole of fucking Westeros in search of a husband as we speak.”

“She has made her choice, Aegon. It was you she chose,” She promises, and her voice is low and warm and almost comforting, so why does it feel wrong? Why does it make him want to crawl out of his own skin? “As for the tour, it will continue as scheduled. Rhaenyra deserted her own tour before time was due, she knows better than to repeat her mother’s mistake.”

Breathable air is lacking by this chair, in this room, and he stands up, wincing at the too-loud sound of the chair scraping against the ground.

He eyes a pitcher of wine in another table, and crosses the distance with quick strides, refilling his cup and draining half of it before turning to his mother again.

“Why tell me now? I-If the tour is to continue,” If she can still change her mind, “Why tell me now?”

“Your grandsire and I believed you might take this opportunity to amend your behaviors,” Alicent tells him, “So you might save your future wife the embarrassment, so you might protect her honor, seeing as you do not care for ours or your own.”

She hasn’t said your name yet, he notices.

Neither has he, but he has forgotten when it was the last time that he said it aloud. Intentionally, that is, he doesn’t count any time he let it slip past his lips when deep in his cups or buried inside some whore with the wrong shade of silver in her hair -and the wrong eyes, and the wrong voice, and the wrong smile, and the wrong touch-.

Aegon can’t even remember when it was that he decided he wouldn’t utter your name again, all he knows is that through the years what started out of spite, as a way to deny the wound and the absence; has become something else. It has become to him something like a secret, something to be hoarded, to be kept his alone.

Because there’s pride, and satisfaction, and something rotten but his, in having known you in ways no other did. In remembering you how he is certain -he has to be, it is of the few things he has left- no one has known you.

And so he doesn’t speak your name. Lest in sharing any of the warmth of a bond long gone he loses it, dying embers to a strong wind; lest in admitting old truths he is left behind also by the part of you that he keeps safe, a secret only his.

But now in his head resonate so loudly that they drown anything else -like thunder, like the beat of Vermithor’s wings taking you far up into the sky- his mother’s words.

It was you she chose.

Thinking of you has always meant the resurgence of the memory of the goodbye you refused to grant him, of waking to the reverberating cry of Vermithor as he took to the skies with you on his back and flew you away to Dragonstone; or the memory of your disappointment and your sorrow as he avoided your gaze and your words when you met again in Driftmark.

Yet now the memory that comes forth in his mind is another.

You smiled at him, daring and entirely too proud. But how could you not be, when you both knew he would oblige? How could you not be, when he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from your lips since you had asked him for something as simple as a kiss? And your voice was softer than he’d expected -or perhaps he remembers it softer than it was, perhaps he sees something else when desire was all there was-, warmer than it had ever been, when you whispered, I want it to be you.

And what harm can your name do that his own mind hasn’t inflicted upon him already? What ruin can the uttering of such a familiar word bring that the memories haven’t wrought already?

So he says your name. Willingly, rationally, for the first time in years.

He thought the foolish refusal to utter your name aloud kept you distant, kept the memory of you, the idea of you, as something far from him, gone from him. But he realizes now, with the shape of your name parting his lips and the taste of memories staining his tongue like ash; that you have been a distant memory, a distant dream, for a very long time.

And the knowledge that you chose him, the helpless hope that blooms somewhere in his chest, they cannot do a thing against the horrifying certainty that the future he wanted, the future he mourned, is lost to him regardless of your choices now.

What can he give you now, that that Tyrell knight the rumors say you were so enamored with cannot? How can he not fail whatever expectations you have of him, as he has failed all others? How could you want him now, as what he has made out of himself in these years you’ve spent apart?

It was a comfort, he realizes now, thinking you lost. The comfort of knowing he couldn’t fail you, couldn’t earn your scorn when he had merely your indifference.

A bitter, wretched little laugh leaves his lips then, and he turns his head -to hide, perhaps, the tears brimming in his eyes, the weakness his mother so loathes to see from him- and looks out the window towards the distant skies.

Alicent doesn’t move, merely stands taller, prouder, and presses,

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Of course, this is what he fucking wanted, but nearly four years have gone by since he asked to be allowed to marry you and was refused. Even if some part of him wants it, wants you, still, it matters not.

It is what he wanted, before. Before everything got worse, before everything got louder, harder. Before he got worse. Before you forgot about him.

His mother approaches him then, and though he jumps when he sees her reach for him out of the corner of his eye, she grabs onto his forearm and speaks again, forceful, determined,

“Listen to me, Aegon. Your sister has secured her hold on the Seven Kingdoms, both through the strength of her dragons and through her eldest children’s diplomacy with the noble Houses,” His mother tells him, but he cannot hear her, not over the warring thoughts of finally, finally, finally, and too late, too late, too late. “Rhaenyra has allowed for this to happen because she wishes to extend an offer of peace, and you cannot squander this opportunity.”

He turns to her and asks, quietly, forlorning, “Why now?”

“What?”

“Why now?”

Why now, that everything is worse? Why now, that he has become this?

For a moment, a flickering moment gone in the blink of an eye, he thinks he sees sadness, sympathy, in his mother’s warm gaze. For a moment, he believes she will offer words or touch in the way she hasn’t before, in comfort or in reassurance.

But her gaze falls from his, and her grip on his arm -too tight, almost bruising, yet wanted, needed, if it is all he can get- loosens as she lets go of him.

“The betrothal will be announced when the tour is over. The wedding in a week’s time from then.” She tells him, detached, not unlike a messenger delivering a missive.

And with that she leaves his apartments. The door closing echoes in his mind, and he is left behind with a loneliness he doesn’t know where to put, and a hope he doesn’t know how not to fear.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, and I would love to hear your thoughts!

I am endlessly fascinated by the greens and their deeply weird dynamics, and I hope I did them a modicum of justice, even when changed in this AU and despite the influence of fanon in my interpretations of them.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon ii fanfic #fics by me

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starboyshoyo · 2 years ago

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Tropes-To-Lovers

Characters: All NRC boys x fem!reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff

What were you to the NRC boys, before you were lovers?

Includes: Childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers.

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Trey Clover the boy next door

Everyone and their mother knows Trey Clover, the golden boy in your little provincial town. Sweet, intelligent, and he can bake? He’s a heartthrob in every definition of the word. But Trey’s only ever had eyes for you, his parents’ best friends’ daughter and the girl next door.

Joined at the hip from the moment you met, you’ve done it all together- but Trey’s been away at NRC for three years. You were sure he would move to the city after getting a taste of the wider world. So you’re caught off-guard when he returns to take over his family’s bakery, eight inches taller than you remember.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he sees you, and you can feel the firmness of muscles under his shirt when you launch yourself at him, embracing him tightly. He has to bend down to hug you now, you realize. And his face is sharper now, jaw angular instead of the soft cheeks you were used to. When did that happen?

And when did he get so handsome?

Leona Kingscholar betrothed to his brother

Leona has only ever had one friend- you, the heir from the neighboring kingdom. It shouldn’t be a problem to love you the way he does, but the stars in the sky had other plans, it seemed. Because from the moment you were born, you were meant to marry Falena.

Leona has long-since learned that no matter what he does, he’ll never be enough to win the public’s love. It didn’t matter that he knew you never had feelings for Falena, or that Falena was seeing someone else in secret. His brother will be king, not him. He’ll watch you walk down the aisle towards him, and then he’ll go back to his room and take a nap, and tell himself that he won’t be upset. That’s just the way life will be.

One day, while napping behind a curtain in the royal library, he catches wind of something so very interesting. Your parents arrived in the kingdom that morning, bearing news: Falena’s engagement has been peaceably broken, by your own choice, nonetheless. It’s a huge, life-changing decision and so a formal dinner is being held, to re-discuss the terms of the treaty. Leona wants to snap you up right away to be his, but he has to bide his time. For now, he’ll meet your eye across the banquet table, scowl softening a little. He should have known that he has always been king in your heart.

Silver childhood soulmates

Right person, right place, right time. Rarely did the universe ever align so beautifully. From your first meeting at the tender age of five to the time you were accepted into NRC, Silver has always been by your side.

He’s the first thing you see when you wake up in the mornings and the final good night you say before going to sleep. When small birds land on your desk and deposit gifts of acorns and flowers to you, you know exactly who they were from and who was thinking of you at the moment. And when you look at your handsome knight, you can’t help but imagine him by your side, every step of the way for the rest of your life.

Silver is more than just your best friend and first love. He is your person, through and through.

Best Friends to Lovers

Epel Felmier first friend, first love

You met Epel on the first day of school, getting beat up by a blonde upperclassman in the hallway. Much to the surprise of both boys, you jumped in to help him- pulling him off the ground and scolding the taller boy, who merely scoffed and wandered off. Though Epel’s ego was a bit bruised, he was grateful to you for helping him.

Epel became your constant companion after that. You could listen to him talk for hours while laying on the floor of your dorm room, a bag of apple chips in hand. His roguish accent and mischievous jokes charm you a little more each day, making him more than just the rough-hewn boy you met at the entrance ceremony not long ago.

His grandparents know all about you from the letters he sends home. Even in ink, they can sense his lovestruck heart. They had felt the same way when they started courting all those years ago. The Felmier family are fools in love, it seems. You would call him your best friend if someone asked, but Epel wants to be so much more.

Ace Trappola best friends to lovers

It’s pathetic how fast Ace changed his tune. The first time he met you, he was jeering you for being a magicless human. Now, he’s in love with you? When did that happen? And why did it have to be with you of all people?

Ace isn’t fooling himself. He knows why it’s you. It’s simply because no one could ever capture his heart the same way you do, with your smiles and your laughs and the way you look at him in both disapproval and exasperated fondness when he makes a crude joke.

Don’t act surprised when he holds your hand out of the blue or when he searches your face with those eyes, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you silly right then and there. He wants you, not anyone else, and it’s driving him crazy.

Kalim Al-Asim what are we?

Everyone thinks you and Kalim are dating already. You joke about it all the time. Oh, yeah, we’re partners in crime! Soulmates! Two sides of the same coin- but the line between teasing and reality has begun to blur. Once, you even made a jibe that you’d marry him one day, and Kalim got you an actual ring! It was so extravagant- a ruby inlaid with smaller gilded gems along the edges. He told you it was a family treasure, kept in the storerooms of Scarabia and just waiting to adorn the hand of the right person.

You tried to refuse, but he insisted. Money wasn’t something the Al-Asim heir ever had to worry about. So you go along with it, the golden band rubbing between your fingers and his when you walk down the halls, hands interlaced.

How does Kalim really feel about you? You’re not sure, so one day you ask- Kalim, what are we?

He looks at you curiously. “Aren’t we engaged?”

Strangers to Lovers

Deuce Spade the hallway crush

Every day between alchemy and history of magic, Deuce finds himself scanning faces in the hallway for someone who makes his face flush and his palms turn sweaty. And every day when you catch his eye and send him a wave, he finds himself tangled up a little more in his heartstrings, tripping over his feet as he tries to return your greeting.

He’s not sure when he first noticed you. Maybe it was when he fumbled and nearly dropped a potion on the carpet, and you caught it. His heart did flutter a bit then, but maybe that was because he nearly messed up the project he had been working on all night. He wants to talk to you again so badly- more than just a ‘hello‘ or a ‘thanks.’ He wants to brighten up your day just by walking by, like you do for him. Maybe if he becomes an honors student, then you’ll finally notice him too.

Jack Howl the mysterious savior

Being hounded by a group of rogue students wasn’t in your plans for the day. Trying to slip between the mob, avoiding their prying hands and sharp words, a sudden growl makes them all look up. A tall boy with wolflike ears towers over them.

Leave them alone. His voice is sharp, like a dog's canines. Golden eyes meet yours, steely and cold, but they soften for a moment when you manage to say thank you.

Your savior rubs the back of his neck. ‘S nothing, he says gruffly, but the lingering traces of blush on his face tell a different story. Only when he leaves do you realize that you had never gotten his name. Perhaps fate will lead you to meet once again, in the near future.

Azul Ashengrotto love at first sight

One minute he’s discussing the best way to mix a potion with his lab partner. The next, he’s sitting straight in his chair, eyes blown wide when you walk into the room. You’ve ensnared Azul Ashengrotto’s attention and heart without a single word. And when you finally say hi to him, ignorant of his shady dealings and strange company, he’s caught- hook, line, and sinker.

Azul begins to do things for you. Not in the way he does for others, with a flourish of his pen and a snap of his fingers. No, you’re special. He could never ask anything of you.

It’s so obvious, the way he favors you and gives you the best of everything he has. But he can’t bring himself to care- not when this new feeling brings him such happiness.

Idia Shroud closer than he thought

Idia Shroud has never met you irl. No way. All you are to him is a profile picture on a leaderboard, telling him to dodge the next attack or that he’ll never beat you in the latest game the two of you are playing. You make his gloomy days a little brighter. And when they’re brighter, he finally takes a chance to step outside for a bit and go to class.

In class is where he met you. His charming desk partner, whose presence he enjoyed far more than he thought he would. He likes your jokes. He likes that you play the same games as him and nerd out about the same topics. But when he returns to the world of online anonymity, he can’t help but feel disloyal- so much so that he doesn’t notice the lilt of the voice in his speakers is the same one that rings in his ears when he falls asleep in class.

Malleus Draconia love from afar

No one knows who you are, a mere human who attends NRC. You could be dangerous as far as his retainers know. Malleus isn’t supposed to speak with you- but oh, does he want to.

He’s tried to ignore the pull towards you, but he just can’t. Why is this mere child of man lingering in his thoughts, ensnaring his every waking moment?

One night when Sebek is busy berating Silver for falling asleep on the job, he sneaks away and finds you beneath the moonlight, staring up at the stars. He’s caught like a fly in a web from the first hello.

Enemies to Lovers

Riddle Rosehearts academic rivals

He’s so annoying. With a loud voice, short stature, and short temper, you could consider Riddle Rosehearts to always be underfoot. But even you have to admire his academic prowess, his name topping the scores at every turn. And just under him, is you. How very frustrating.

You’re so focused on one-upping one another that you don’t even catch yourself when thoughts of him wander into your mind throughout the day. Of course you think of him, you’re trying to beat him. But slowly the competition turns into wondering. What does he do in his free time? What’s his favorite food, his favorite color?

Little do you know, he thinks of you too.

Ruggie Bucchi the goodhearted thief

You heard from your neighbors about the slum thief who steals things from their shops. It’s only a matter of time before he comes to you next, they warn, so be ready.

And ready you are. When a skinny boy with rounded ears atop his head tries to slip something into his pocket, you call him out. And when he dashes away, you scramble after him- tackling him in a paved alley near some dumpsters. Cans go crashing over to reveal several homeless youngsters, shivering in the cold and barely more than bones. The boy tosses the food to them before you can intervene- but why would you, when you’ve just seen what you saw?

When he comes into the bakery next time, you make sure he pays. But you also slip an extra loaf or two into his order, with a wink and a nod. Your conversations become a bit longer, a bit friendlier. He’s quite charming and you have to berate yourself for falling for a thief.

He’s stolen your heart, hasn’t he?

Floyd Leech the hallway bully

Floyd Leech. Just his name makes you groan and roll your eyes. It’s not just you he teases you in the hallway by holding your things over his head, but you seem to be his favorite. How are you supposed to get your notebook back when it’s dangling almost 8 feet above the ground, courtesy of his freakishly long arms?

The graceful solution you come up with is to kick him. Right in his eel, to summarize. His twin brother is by his side in an instant while you walk off.

Jade expects Floyd to be livid. But even when he’s doubled up on the ground in pain, he’s got a grin plastered across his face.

His shrimpy is such a badass.

Jamil Viper flirting rivals

For someone who’s usually level-headed and cool, you sure bring out Jamil’s temper. He can find a million ways to insult and discredit you, but still you’ll bounce back with some snarky, suggestive comment that just makes his blood boil.

He swears he can feel your eyes on him from across the hallways. It makes him want to pull his hood up over his face. But when you approach him, he’s as calm as ever. Why are you leaning closer, prefect, and running your hands over his tie? He’s not going to fall for your ruse, so don’t even try.

Still, his eyes can’t help but wander down to your lips, wondering if they would taste like he imagined.

Rook Hunt one-sided annoyance

It seems like you’ve gained yourself a one-man paparazzi recently. If Rook is meant to be a hunter, you have to wonder if he’s any good at his job. He never seems to conceal his presence, following you down the hallways brazenly while spouting off fake compliments about your demeanor and beauty.

Well, you thought they were fake. It’s hard to believe anyone is genuine in a school full of villains, but you might have caught the attention of the one person who actually is. His company isn’t so bad sometimes, especially when you can talk his ear off about anything and everything.

Sebek Zigvolt forced proximity

This was meant to be a partner project, not a threeway. But being paired with the great Malleus Draconia means putting up with his annoying, self-proclaimed bodyguard for the next week as well.

You pity Sebek’s alchemy partner, because he’s ignoring his own work in favor of hovering over you and his liege. His loud, unsolicited advice and passive-aggressive comments don’t make him any more bearable. By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re about ready to drop-kick him into the cauldron.

Thankfully, you and Malleus get your work done early. When you’re packing up your things to leave, you find Sebek quiet for once, deep in concentration as he rushes to finish his own work.

I don’t need the help of a human, he proclaims in that loud, obnoxious bark of his. But he doesn’t complain when you settle down next to him, stirring the potion while he measures out ingredients.

Exes to Lovers

Cater Diamond the one that got away

Cater knows you probably hate his guts. Hell, he hates his own guts for fucking up so badly. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he drove you away with his constant neediness and self-deprecation. It took him years to realize that he was so focused on himself that he didn’t realize that you needed support too.

He’s been lonely for a while, working on himself and his problems in the shadows. It’s been a while since he last saw you- he knows you might not want to see him again anyways, but he’s changed now- both for himself and for you.

Cater wants you back, if you’ll have him.

Jade Leech second chance romance

Jade was nothing more than a talking stage that never got off the ground. He was fun to be around and a good hiking partner, but you stopped seeing him after first year ended and you no longer shared a class together.

You didn’t think of him much throughout your second and third year at NRC . But when you arrive at your new work study to meet your partner for the program, a tall, familiar figure greets you at the door.

“Jade?”

Vil Schoenheit right person, wrong time

Vil has no one but himself to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He broke things off with you after his manager advised him to- she said that a young, taken idol isn’t marketable. You need to think about your image.

The stage lights blinded him and he dropped you without a second thought. Any trace of you in his life was erased; smoothed over to perfection like a beauty filter.

But oh, how Vil regrets it when he scrolls on his phone late at night, your Magicam account pulled up to a photo of you laughing. What he wouldn’t give to have you smile like that at him again.

The icon for a DM request sits beside your profile picture. Vil regards it for a second, finger hovering over the button, then clicks.

Lilia Vanrouge facing the future

Lilia has always known that humans live short lives. In his time, he’s seen countless people born and died. It’s just a fact of human life; a phenomena he watches from the outside in- disconnected. It doesn’t dawn on him that yours too will run out until Malleus points it out- and then Lilia becomes scared.

He’ll cut you off, hiding in the shadows and avoiding your eyes until a great danger almost befalls you. It is then that Lilia realizes he’d rather have loved and lost you than never have known you at all.

Please, stay with him. You have the rest of your life, however short or long, to live by his side. Lilia would gladly warp time and face the consequences just for one more minute with you.

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queers-gambit · 11 months ago

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Confection Invention

prompt: what is a legacy other than what we're remembered for after we die? names are lost, stories altered, family names obsolete, but recipes are forever because cuisine transcends time.

or how Sansa Stark's favorite dessert, lemon cakes, came to be after discovering your husband's never had a nameday cake.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: none? none. seems suspicious.

Sansa Stark, newly crowned Queen in the North, was once a child too small, too scared, too sheltered from the harsh brutality of life's reality. Before she left Winterfell that fateful day, it was well known in the castle that the young girl adored the tasty sweet treat, lemon cakes. A confection of dense cake with lemon shreds mixed in the batter, a lemon glaze poured over, and garnished with a bright and tart lemon slice.

King's Landing was equipped to make the dessert and the young redhead still found pleasure in them, sure, but then shit got real when the Lannisters, you know, murdered her father. Sansa "grew up" and didn't bother with sweet treats after that. They just never tasted the same, and she began to admonish herself whenever she had a hankering; figuring with so much bad in the Realm, her want for cake was inappropriate and misplaced.

After years of turmoil, of losing any and everyone she ever cared for, the night the North declared her Queen of their newly-independent realm, Sansa Stark indulged herself and asked the kitchen staff to send lemon cakes to her room with supper. When her private meal was served, so was her dessert, and Sansa had to ask the servant serving her before they could disappear, "Excuse me?"

"Yes, Your Grace?" The serving maid bowed her head, facing Sansa with clasped hands locked stoically in front of her. Sansa almost cringed when she heard her new title, but refrained from reacting - it would simply just take getting used to.

"Might I ask, how are these made?"

"How what are made, Your Grace?"

"These lemon cakes."

"Oh, uh, I do not know the recipe, but I can ask the kitchens - "

"Well, it's odd, isn't it?"

"What is, Your Grace?"

"I've been all over the Realm," she spoke with an even tone, ever the emotionally-stunted diplomat, "and I've sampled many of these cakes in my lifetime, yet fail to find any real distinction. It's almost as if everyone is following the same recipe."

"Oh, well, I do know that they are, Your Grace."

"They are? All of the kingdoms?"

"Yes, Your Grace, i-it's a rare thing, but yes, the Seven Kingdoms use the same recipe."

"How can that be possible? How do they all get the same recipe?"

The maid glanced at the door nervously, "Uh, I-I do not know, Your Grace."

"You may speak freely, you are in no danger here," Sansa encouraged, gesturing to the only other empty chair at her table. "Please, come sit, indulge me in this tale. I am only curious."

"Well," she turned to shut the chamber door, speaking quietly as if what she was about to say was a secret, "it would depend if you know anything about the Targaryen dynasty, Your Grace."

"Only what was generically taught."

She nodded, taking the seat Sansa offered. "Some 2 centuries ago, there was a great scandal and a great war - one you may know as the Dance of Dragons." Sansa nodded and the maid explained anyway, "You see, it started because King Jaehaerys lost his heirs and was forced to choose between eligible familial candidates. Viserys Targaryen, the King's grandson, and his granddaughter, Viserys' cousin, Rhaenys Targaryen."

"Right, I remember the names somewhat."

"The King chose Viserys because, well, he was a man and Rhaenys was only a woman - though, married to a Velaryon, another ancient House hailing from Valyria." Sansa nodded along. "Anyways, uh, King Viserys' first wife was a Targaryen woman who gave him a daughter and then died birthing a son. He remarried a Hightower girl after that and had four other white-haired children; three sons and a daughter."

Sansa nodded slowly as she ate. Nothing like dinner and an entertaining story.

"The second son was Prince Aemond Targaryen, and he had this wife, you see, who was something akin to a saint on soil."

"Nobody's that nice," Sansa snarled in refusal, eyes almost rolling.

"You forget, Your Grace, some 200 years ago, the people never considered rebelling against the Targaryens. Only an arrogant fool would charge a horse at a dragon and think they'd win, so, at the time of this tale, there was no thought to protest the monarchy. Anyways, it wasn't just her kindness that made Aemond Targaryen's wife saint-like. It was all she was, and her most notable work was helping establish, build, organize, and operate orphanages in King's Landing, and then, around the Realm."

"Hmm."

"Well, she worked with those kids and apparently, had an affinity for baking. And because she worked with orphans, when she would take them around to other regions for adoption or placement, she'd leave each kid their own copy of the recipe."

Sansa considered the tale for a moment, then asked, "So, why lemon cakes? Where did they come from?"

The maid smiled.

Aemond Targaryen flinched when he heard something shatter, walking up the hallway alone and only a few strides from his bedchamber. When he opened his door, the One Eyed Prince actually laughed at the sight, "Oh, Gods, are you all right, my love?"

You pouted up at Aemond from the floor, "It was an accident."

"I can tell."

"I really didn't mean to."

He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest, "No, no, I can tell by the way only the vase my mother gifted us for our wedding is broken. Never mind you telling me over the weeks how you despise it."

"It was an accident! I really didn't mean to," you sighed, glancing at the shattered vase around you.

"How'd it happen?" Aemond asked softly, moving forward after pushing off the doorframe and shutting the door. "Hmm? C'mere, little love," he bent at the waist to pick you up from the floor, hoist you in his arms, then carry you to the bed. "You all right? You hurt?"

"No...?"

"Show me."

You frowned and showed the shallow cut on the underside of your forearm, informing, "It was an accident, I swear t'the Seven, Aemond. I just tripped on the chair," you pointed to where the sitting furniture was overturned, "and fell into the table. I was replacing the flowers in the vase."

He nodded, "Your cut isn't bad, here, just hold this to it." Your husband pressed a spare cloth to your wound before straightening his spine. "Sit here a moment, I'll clean."

"No, let me - "

"No, no, love, just wait," he chuckled. In the time it took a maid to bring in a broom and dustpan, Aemond had successfully distracted you enough with casual conversation. It was there you discovered a secret you deemed unacceptable. "No, I am not lying, sweet girl," Aemond chuckled, "I've truly never had a cake for my nameday. The idea just seems silly, doesn't it? To celebrate such a common event?"

You scoffed, "We'll come back to your cynicism later. Surely, in your youth, your mother made you cake?"

"Being the second son, you often got overlooked," Aemond shrugged as if it didn't bother him. "I am not missing much, it's just cake."

"'Just cake'!? You say that because you do not know," you pouted. "What kind of a wife am I that I did not know this?"

Aemond laughed, "We've been married all of 3 months."

"It should've come up," your eyes rolled, "or at least in the lifetime of friendship before our betrothal."

"Consider this a learning opportunity between spouses. It isn't a bad thing," Aemond defended, the shattered and scattered ceramic being swept away. "So what, I've not had cake? I am missing nothing."

"It makes me sad."

Aemond laughed as he eyed you for a moment, nodding like he understood something. "You mean to remedy this, don't you?" He asked, showing the maid out of your chambers.

"Of course I do!"

He chuckled, "You know I am not fond of sweets."

"Doesn't matter, I'll find something you like. We can start with the basics, uh... Um... Well, I guess, do you like dense cakes? Fluffier, lighter ones?"

He paused to think, offering, "I like the gooseberry pies served at banquets?"

"Those are dense."

"Hmm, then dense is fine. They're in smaller quantities because they're so heavy."

You nodded, "Any flavors?"

"I am unsure on that front."

"Fruits? C'mon, fruits are usually really good with pastries and cakes."

"You know what I like," Aemond sighed, uncomfortable with the idea of attention for his nameday. "Trust me, love, I cannot make this decision - I just don't know. I am terribly green when it comes to sweets. Even when offered at formal events, you know I'm not interested."

"Well, how about a sampling? I can make you different treats and you tell me which you like."

Aemond chuckled, knowing you wouldn't let this go and agreed, "All right, sure."

And boy, did you keep to your word. The kitchen staff was already used to seeing you on a decently regular basis, but suddenly, you were spending all day in the kitchen, trying out different recipes. You made cakes, cookies, brownies, pastries, all kinds of desserts! You even went a step further, trying out newly invented ideas until narrowing down several options. You were determined to give Aemond something, wanting him to feel your love and effort in the confections because his nameday was the one day you had to pamper and spoil him without complaint.

(Though, trust me, he still complained and deflected attention.)

You loved Aemond's nameday because he had no choice but to be at the forefront of your attention and affection; something his family found amusing after their years of neglect towards him. Every other day of the year, he was stubborn and impossible and made everything about you; but not his nameday!

Even though he truly wasn't a fan of desserts, Aemond still met you on a balcony at the end of the week because not only did he adore making you happy, but he hardly ever said no to you. You had an array of treats made and displayed, and slowly, he sampled what you presented; speaking simply for your mental notes. However, he came upon something new - something he's not seen before.

"What's this?"

"Um, well... See, my younger siblings sometimes like citrus in their desserts, so, I thought this might be good? Or it could be tart - one or the other."

"This is lemon?"

"Yes, and that is made with limes from Volantis," you pointed to another platter, "that one's orange, that one's cherry, and that one has coconut."

"Where did you get coconuts and cherries?"

"That's not important. Which one is your favorite? It's what you're getting for your nameday, so do not lie."

"Pardon my pun, but the lemon cake takes the cake, sweet girl."

Aemond's heart soared in his chest when your grin of pride was hardly contained; looking pleased that you had invented something to his liking - making it all the more special, being something Aemond never has to share with others.

Sansa thought it was a lovely tale, clarifying, "So, when you say she established King's Landing's orphanages, did she use the Crown's money or the tax payer's?"

The maid smiled, "No, Your Grace, she used royal funds. King Viserys commissioned her bakery, and after a bit, the people actually started donating to her cause because the King offered tax exemption for those who donated."

"And she would take the kids around the Seven Kingdoms for placement? By herself? Why? Why not bake full time? She was obviously good at it."

"She was passionate, and the kids couldn't all fit in King's Landing anymore, so, she had to help relocate them for a better quality of life. She also gave each child the recipe so they could have a little taste of 'home' when they wanted."

Sansa nodded slowly. "How did word spread if she only made it for her husband on his nameday?"

"A moment, please," you interrupted your in-laws departure from the dinner table. When Alicent looked you in the eye, you smiled, "I've something for you all to try in honor of Prince Aemond's nameday."

"Oh, love, no," Aemond whispered in embarrassment, "not tonight."

"Would you mind, Mykal?" You asked the kind servant, who nodded once and exited the dining room.

"What's this about?" Otto questioned.

"Well, I thought we just might celebrate for just a moment together," you eased. "What with tensions so high lately, I just figured we deserved something... Sweet."

Alicent's lips twitched, always knowing in her heart that you were too good for Aemond - too good for this wreck of a family. When Mykal returned, he carried a decorated platter of lemon cakes and set it in the middle of the cleared-away table. You stood.

"What are they?" Aegon asked with an unsure curled lip.

"Lemon cakes," you smiled, "a confection of my own invention made especially for my husband, hmm?" You served a small, personal cake to each family member using saucer platters. "Please, just try it - tell me what you think."

You placed the final cake in front of your husband, grinning and taking your seat again. You knew he hated the spotlight, it gave him anxiety; so, you tried to do your best by acknowledging his nameday without needing to fuss over him. He always liked that you two celebrated privately, but being a "special event", the family had dinner together that night and you thought it a great time for the tart dessert to debut. You dwelled in anticipation as your in-laws all tried their cakes, Aemond feeding you every other bite from his fork as there came a chorus of satisfying hums and groans of approval.

"Holy Mother," Otto chuckled, instantly forking another bite in his mouth. "Mh, mh, mh, wow," he smacked his lips, nodding in impression. "You invented this?" He asked, watching you nod. "You invented a new cake..."

"For Aemond's nameday, yes," you confirmed, tone a little sharper than usual in an effort to make your point.

"I gotta admit, Y/N," Aegon spoke with a full mouth, a few crumbs flying, "this is bloody delicious."

"It really is," Alicent agreed, offering her husband a bite. "Viserys? Love? It's a lemon cake, here, try a bite."

"A what?" Viserys wheezed in confusion. "N-Never heard of l-lemon cake."

"They're new," she explained, "Y/N made them for Aemond's nameday. Isn't that special? Try a bite, love, there you go."

Viserys accepted the bit of cake on Alicent's fork, wincing gently at the tart taste before, too, humming. "'S good," he whispered, looking drained of energy.

"Gotta make these more often," Aegon pointed his fork at the cake crumbles left. He continued, "Like, bring these to every banquet we host and this will be the star." You chuckled and put another cake on his plate, it being instantly torn into.

You smiled at Aemond, "Guess they're a hit."

He leaned down to affectionately press his lips to your forehead for a long moment, mumbling, "Knew they would be."

"So, does this mean I can bake you cakes now? Every nameday? You won't complain?" You asked, tangling his hand with yours and relishing in the way he squeezed.

"Oh, he'll still complain," Helaena giggled, licking icing from her finger, "no matter what."

Aemond smirked at his sister, offering a subtly jab at his family, "I would never complain about being loved. Besides," he offered you a fond, softening look, "she does it so well, wouldn't you say?"

The family hummed in agreement, not truly paying attention to his words - all enraptured with scraping their saucer platters clean. You smiled up at him, letting his lips find yours in a brief show of emotion.

Otto mused, "You know, I've heard it said, 'the love of a good woman will echo through lifetimes'. I think food is a surefire way to ensure that legacy of love, respect, consideration..."

For the next few weeks, you spent more and more time in the kitchens; whipping out batches of lemon cakes to offer the Keep's staff after rumors spread of your cakey goodness. You gifted guards, trainers, tutors, members of court, maids, the castle's servants the newly invented confection. It quickly became the most talked about topic in King's Landing; the citizens being obsessed with your cake and demanding a taste of their own.

In fact, Viserys was so pleased by the turn of events that on one of his rare good days, he consulted Otto. "A bakery for Y/N - would it be worth the purchase? Do you think the Crown should fund the purchase?"

Otto considered, "Well, since her cakes are the hottest commodity currently, I'd say, yes, Your Grace, it'd be worth exploring as a new revenue for the Crown."

"No, no, not for the Crown t'collect from - leave it for Aemond and Y/N to share. This is not to be a business we collect the profits from - but rather, something they might enjoy." Viserys tried to smile, deciding, "Make it happen, Otto, my friend."

"Your Grace?"

"I want - I want her to have a bakery. Where she might sell her baked goods as she sees fit, not as an extension of the Crown, she deserves it. All her hard work," the King wheezed, coughing violently.

"Of course, Your Grace."

Yet when you were informed about your new business venture and shown the building that was to be your bakery, you told Otto that you didn't bake for money and having your own business would be terribly redundant. Yet Otto insisted that you made your own rules and if you wanted to charge, you could, but Viserys wanted you to have a designated safe space to create in.

Upon the grand opening, you were a SMASH hit. The line in your bakery was nonstop and extended out the door; the Gold Dragons overflowing enough for you to restock your ingredients tenfold AND have leftovers to funnel back into the orphanages. People talked, they spread word and rumor, and most patrons had heard through the "grape vine" that your bakery was well worth any wait. Being so popular, you required extra hours baking and only opened about three days a week because you still had your other job.

Speaking of, you obviously still worked with the orphans; in fact, some of them even came to hang out in the bakery! No, they didn't help bake unless they asked to specifically mix the icing or something, because you didn't believe in exploiting child labor. Anyways, on certain days, you closed the bakery and brought all the cakes to the orphanage to distribute, always having a warm heart when the kids giggled while eating the little sweet treat. It inspired you to write down the recipe you invented and every trip you took to help kids find their placement, you brought them recipe cards.

"Here," you handed the card over to the guardian agreeing to care for the kids, "this is just a recipe for a cake and I promise it's really simple to follow. It'll be a familiar taste to them when living here, somewhere unfamiliar for now." You sniffled, offering a watery smile, "Just wanted them to have a piece of home."

The volunteer guardians were usually grateful, knowing baking these cakes could be a form of bonding between them and the kids. It was difficult trying to get these types of kids to open up after all they endured on the streets before your orphanage took them in. Maybe a little cake would help mend those wounds and assure them, while here, they were safe.

You never expected to live out through history, but while names are lost, stories altered, and family names become obsolete, cuisine is a universally shared experience that transcends time.

Sansa sat for a moment, stewing in the story. Never had she imagined such a history lesson surrounding her favorite dessert; she would've thought some old granny would've been messing around in the kitchens to invent such a treat. Not a Princess of the Realm, especially one belonging to the most fearsome and longest reigning monarchy in Westerosi history.

For a brief moment, she was jealous by the description of your relationship to Prince Aemond; hearing how loving your husband was, how supportive and kind to you. She wondered if she'd ever experience something like that - and if she'd ever meet someone who would take her nameday as seriously as you took your husband's.

"What happened after?" She asked quietly, taking a long sip of her wine. "To the Prince and Princess, I mean?"

The maid shrugged meekly, "Not too long after, the Dance of Dragons started and there was no time or reason to bake anymore. They both perished in the flames of war, unfortunately, becoming victims of the Princess Rhaenyra - Aemond's older half-sister."

"Mh," Sansa nodded, "I've heard of her. Maegor with Tits, they called her."

The maid nodded, finishing, "But, you see, Your Grace, the recipe was already spread around the Realm and to this day, is still being used."

The room was silent for a long moment.

"All that," she stabbed her lemon cake with her fork and lifted the bite to her eye for examination, "just because she loved a man and wanted to give him what he's never had before."

"Perhaps, Your Grace, that is why nameday cakes are now tradition. They say the love of a good woman will echo through lifetimes, Your Grace."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

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mysteryofvampires · 3 months ago

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Not for every niche thing, sadly..

The thing I'll give Tumblr is that you really can find hundreds or thousands of posts about even your most niche hyperfixations. It's really a beautiful thing.

#heirs of the night #die erben der nacht #small fandoms

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sheeple · 9 months ago

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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 2

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Mattheo being Mattheo / Matt beats up a bitch A/n: I COULDN'T WAIT TO FINISH WRITING CHAPTER 3 SO HERE IT ISSSSS. ALSOO... Kinda overwhelmed with all the positive feedback I've got on the first part. I hope this one is what you imagined it to be c: (not me having imposter syndrome) [Masterlist] [HoH masterlist]

Mattheo wasn't raised with an abundance of love. He was never abused, no, but there wasn't much familiar love between him and his parents and his older brother. Something about ancient wizarding standards or whatever.

That's why when he entered his first year at Hogwarts, something ugly festered within the boy when he saw you. You, another descendant of a founding member of Hogwarts, born into a family so full of love that it made you shine brighter than the sun herself.

Mattheo was jealous of the way your brothers welcomed you into Hufflepuff house, a proud smile on their faces. The way they hugged you and Professor Sproud beamed with pride to have another descendant of Helga Hufflepuff under her care. All Mattheo got was a stiff nod from Thomas and a sneer to not bother him.

It was not until the first class the Slytherins had with the Hufflepuffs that he decided that from that day onwards he despises you. The way the yellow of your cloak makes your skin radiate. The way you tie your hair with ribbons. The way that over the years, you've grown more beautiful than Aphrodite herself.

He also hates that now in sixth year, he has to be your partner for Herbology. You, who despite your heritage, hate Herbology. It makes Mattheo hate you even more because now you are not the perfect Hufflepuff princess everybody imagines you to be. Now you are human.

"If you keep staring at her like that, she might combust in flames", muses Thomas while he doesn't look up from his book. It gets the attention of other boys around them and they all look at the person Mattheo's staring at.

"Really?", scoffs Draco, his eyes flickering over your back, "Princess Perfect over there?"

Something boils from within Mattheo as his friends' eyes trail over your body. He clenches his jaw as he abuses the shepherd's pie on his plate.

The staring doesn't go unnoticed as one of your friends points it out and you turn towards the Slytherin table. Your eyes meet those of Mattheo and you give him a small but awkward smile before turning back, your shoulders slumping under the eyes.

It's not often that Mattheo hates himself. But right now he could kick himself to put the attention on you. "Why would I care about some prissy Hufflepuff?", he grumbles.

Blaise gives him an unimpressed look. "Don't act like you haven't had the biggest crush on the girl since first year. It's getting pathetic, Mattheo. Just go ask her out."

The others around share looks and grins. It pisses Mattheo off. Especially now that his brother's attention is fully on him. Can't they mind their own damn business?

"You're forgetting one thing, idiots."

That is another thing he hates about you. The boy next to you whose sleazy arm is resting on your shoulders. Piece of shit quidditch player and an even worse human being with wandering eyes. Even now, with you sitting so prettily next to him, he dares to make goo-goo eyes with a Gryffindor girl.

Gods it makes Mattheo crazy how you can choose him over any other dickhead at this school. That sleazeball over him.

But when he found you that night alone and moping over your now ex-boyfriend, a small spark of hope lit up inside him. And he took that spark to satisfy his own desires.

And now here you are, sitting in front of each other at the Three Broom Sticks, butterbeer in hand. You nervously trace the rim of the glass while Mattheo observes you. He wants to say something, but you beat him to it.

"So... what are the boundaries of this agreement?"

Mattheo lets out a huff of air. "Whatever you're comfortable with, princess."

Great. That gives you absolutely nothing. "Are you okay with... handholding? Or something similar?"

"Sure. I don't mind. What are your thoughts on nicknames?"

"As long as it's not Pookie. What should I call you? Nicknames are mutual." You send him a teasing eyebrow raise.

Mattheo rolls his eyes playful. "I couldn't care less. Also, to make it believable we should be seen together in school, you know. Otherwise, people won't believe it's real."

To be honest you have no qualms with that. You kinda expected it.

As the negotiations come to a close, the two of you decide to walk around Hogsmeade and get to know each other a little better as you will be seeing a lot of him.

Mattheo practically tackles you as you want to pay, stating that if it was a real date, he wouldn't let his lady pay for anything.

The stroll through Hogsmeade is filled with small talk, asking each other questions about preferences and other small tidbits as you pass by shops. That's how you discover that he's pretty good at Transfiguration and that Madam Pomfrey always gives him candies when he lands in the infirmary again after a Quidditch game.

While Mattheo tells a story about him, Draco and Theodore wrestling for the last apple lollypop Madam Pomfrey had, you round a corner and spot Malcolm walking your way. His hand is in Gladys' but he doesn't pay any attention to her yapping.

"Shit", you curse, ducking behind the wall. Mattheo looks at you with an amused look on his face as you pull him away from the main street by his wrist. "It's him."

The dark-haired boy glances around the corner, his eyes focusing on the sad sack of screechsnaps. The audacity of the guy makes his blood boil. Mattheo turns back towards you. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes flickering over his face. "My mom always said you shouldn't trust pretty brown eyes", you muse, not knowing how to take his question.

"So you think my eyes are pretty?", he asks, leaning close to you.

His sudden closeness makes you stutter and stumble over your words, the heat rising towards your cheeks. "I- no... what-?"

Mattheo lets out a lach. A genuine one at your confusion. He holds out his hand, palm up, and looks at you expectantly. You lay your hand in his own slowly. At that moment, the two of you realise how big his hand is compared to yours. How — when he laces your fingers together — his hand engulfs your own.

Mattheo pulls you closer, slinging his arm over your shoulder while still holding onto your hand. He pulls the two of you out of the alley and whispers to you that you should laugh like he said something funny.

You can do that. You faked all the time while being with Malcolm, how hard is a laugh? A laugh bubbles from you and you look up at Mattheo.

While you walk, Mattheo angles the two of you so that when you pass your ex, their shoulders bump against each other. The four of you stop and you make eye contact with him.

"(Y/n)", he says surprised, his eyes going from you to Mattheo — who still has his arm wrapped around you.

"Malcolm", you reply icy, clutching on tightly to Mattheo's hand before glancing towards the girl next to him. "Gladys. How... nice to see you."

Gladys gives you a sickly sweet smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "We didn't expect to meet you here. Especially not with... someone." She looks at Mattheo, who pulls you closer towards him.

"Yeah, we quite hit it off during Herbology so we thought why not try it, you know, now she's finally single. Thanks for that, mate." Mattheo cocks his head to the side, silently daring Malcolm.

But Malcolm's wide eyes are laser-focused on you. "Herbology?", he asks, his voice wavering.

"Oh yeah", you nod with a smile, "that Fluxweed report really brought us together, you know. You were right, Malcolm, I just needed to find something I would enjoy about the subject." You bite your tongue to not burst out laughing as you throw his earlier statement back into this face.

Malcolm's face sours and he tugs Gladys' hand before walking away without saying anything. When they're out of earshot, the two of you can't help but laugh.

"Merlin", you chuckle, "he really is pathetic, isn't he?"

Mattheo pulls you towards the opposite direction, his arm still around your shoulders. And weirdly... you don't mind it. He's nice and warm- ew that makes you sound weird. But as the day progresses and the shadows elongate, a shiver rolls down your spine.

Mattheo stops in his steps as the two of you walk back towards the castle. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it open for you to put your hands through the sleeves.

You protest. "I can't take your jacket, don't be silly." Walking past him, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.

"You're not taking it, I'm offering. So don't protest and take the damn jacket." He raises his brows in a silent way to tell you to not challenge him because he will strangle his jacket onto you if he has to.

With your cheeks feeling hot, you reluctantly slide your arms through the sleeves. As you play with the hem of the dark green jacket — which by the way smells like pine and smoke — you turn towards him. "Aren't you cold?", you question as he's only in a black shirt now.

Mattheo shakes his head, running a hand through his curls. "I run hot. Kinda brought the jacket in the hopes to give it to you."

You give him a teasing smile at his confession. "Do you now?"

"I wasn't raised with a lot of good, but at least my aunt instilled some decency into me." He reaches out and grabs his pack of smokes out of a pocket. He lights one and offers it to you. You shake your head and he shrugs.

The rest of the walk back towards the castle is spent in comfortable silence. You totally expect him to wave you goodbye when you enter through the thick wooden doors of the entrance hall, but he keeps on walking with you until you reach your common room.

He has his hands in his pockets as he watches you anxiously scratch at your fingers.

"I've had a lot of fun. Even if it was supposed to be fake. Thank you, Mattheo-"

"Matt."

You blink in confusion at his sudden word vomit. Mattheo himself seems embarrassed. "The whole nickname thing we talked about? You may call me Matt. If you like..."

A wide smile grows on your face. Standing up to your tippy toes, you lay a hand on his shoulder and press a feather-light kiss against his cheek. "Thank you, Matt. Have a nice evening."

Feeling like the butterflies in your stomach may burst out of their confinement, you quickly hurry through the barrel but remember that you're still wearing his jacket. When you turn around, you are met with an empty corridor.

Not knowing that the moment you turned around Mattheo Riddle — Heir of Slytherin and all around Hogwartsbad boy — practically sprinted towards the dungeons with his cheeks flaming hot.

It has been a couple of days since your 'date'. Because you've practically announced to the entirety of Hogwarts that the two of you are dating, you spend a lot more time together. At first, it was spent studying together. But slowly you two started to talk to each other more and more. About life and family and expectations.

Turns out the two of you aren't that different.

Hannah and Susan give you smug smiles every time Mattheo walks over towards you or when the two of you are seen together.

A paper crane lands on top of your open book and you look up from your notes. Mattheo — who's seated on the other side of the classroom — nods towards it and motions for you to unfold it.

You pout and shake your head, mouthing 'too adorable' towards him. He rolls his eyes playfully with a smile and flicks his wand, making the crane unfold on itself. Sending a disapproving look, you read the note.

You look over towards him and he does his best puppy eyes. Curse Mattheo Riddle and his beautiful brown eyes. Pursing your lips, you pretend to think about it, being quite dramatic about it. You look up at the ceiling with your brows knitted together while tapping your chin with your finger. But eventually, you drop the act and give him an enthusiastic nod.

Hannah, who has been following the interaction like a tennis match, snorts and almost draws the attention of the teacher towards you both. You hit her shoulder and quickly turn back towards your notes, ignoring the teasing grin on Mattheo's face.

"Shut up", you whisper towards her.

She leans closer to you. "Since when are you and Riddle close enough to hang out?"

Narrowing your eyes at her. "We're supposedly dating, remember?"

You almost don't want to admit it, but the classes can't pass by any quicker. You hardly pay attention in divination and muggle studies, way too excited for your date- wait... is it a date? No. It's just a hangout. Nothing more.

"Have fun with your date", teases Hannah once the final class of the morning is finished and you flip her off as you walk the opposite way.

As you round the corner, you bump against something and stumble slightly back. "Oh sorry", you mumble, finding your footing before looking up. "Oh...", escapes your mouth as you see it's Malcolm.

You move to pass by him but he grabs your shoulders. "I want to talk to you. I miss you..."

Pushing his hands away, you let out a scoff. He's sinking to a lower level than you thought possible. "Miss me? Miss me? What am I? Your mother?" You go to walk again but this time Malcolm's hold becomes stronger. He manoeuvres you towards an empty hallway. He presses you against the wall and you let out an 'oomph'.

"Is he forcing you to act like this? Did he put a curse on you? Are you imperio'd?" He reaches out to touch your cheeks, to check your eyes.

You harshly pull your face out of his hold. "Are you out of your mind?! Let me go!", you protest, trying to wiggle yourself out of his hold. "Mattheo did nothing to me."

He shakes his head, his fists tightening around your robes. "You're such a- a- slut! Opening your legs for any guy who gives you attention."

What the actual fuck! How dare he suggest such a thing?! You reel your head back and spit in his face. It hits him in his eyes and he flinches, stumbling a couple of steps back and wiping at his eyes.

"You bitch!", he wails. Raising his fist, he advances towards you and your hand reaches for your wand. But something comes flying from the side and knocks him off his feet.

Mattheo stands above him, pinning him to the floor and punching him in the face. You're glued to the spot and you can't help but watch how Mattheo beats the living daylights out of him.

Blood runs down his nose and his knuckles are cracked, but Mattheo enjoys beating your ex down to a whimpering mess. He can finally channel his pent-up frustration into something productive. And he won't deny that he didn't want to knock the teeth out of the prick's mouth.

Afraid that someone will spot the fight, you try to pry off Mattheo. You pull against his shoulder and make him lose the rhythm he was beating his fists down with. "Matt! Leave him! He's not worth getting in trouble for!"

Mattheo suddenly realises that you're here also and he gets off the snivelling boy on the ground, flexing and relaxing his hands. You grab one of them and pull him away from the crime scene. He needs to get fixed up, but where? One of the bathrooms is the possibility to be seen big. And you don't want unnecessary people asking questions. And you don't have any supplies in the bathroom.

You could manage to sneak him into your dorm. Most of your housemates are at lunch, so the common room should be empty.

Mattheo calls out your name, trying to make you stop but you shush him and keep on pulling him towards the barreled entrance. Once outside, you let go of his hand. "I'll check if the coast is clear and then I can fix you up."

Without waiting for an answer, you knock on the right barrel and the doors slide open. Glancing around the common room, you see nobody. Which is a surprising sight. Because the common room is so close to the kitchens, a lot of students opt to eat in their dorms. It's mostly the bullied students or the ones who don't want to deal with the Great Hall.

Waving him over, you pull Mattheo through the entrance and practically shove him up the stairs and into your dorm. He finally gets why you're bringing him to your dorm when you push him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet and fetch out a first-aid kit from under the sink.

"Do you bring a lot of boys towards your dorm?", asks Mattheo to break the silence as you search through the kit. He feels awkward sitting in your bathroom.

This isn't the first time that he is in another House's common room. He has sneaked into Gryfindor's loats and the parties at Ravenclaw are something you have to experience. But there was always something untouchable about the Hufflepuff area. It is a bragging right to have found out about the code to the entrance but an even bigger deal to be invited in.

And what he has seen so far makes him jealous. The Slytherin common room is always coated in a shade of greenish blue, thanks to the large windows looking into the lake. There is barely any warmth because of the ancient tiles of the dungeons. But here, everything is so warm, so welcome. Even with the only windows at the top, the common room is bright and comforting.

"Oh yeah, loads", you tease, "Especially non 'Puff ones." You give him a half-smile while pinching a cotton swap between your fingers. "Now… be still and this might sting." You dab against the cuts and wounds across his face, cleaning up the blood and disinfecting everything.

Mattheo isn't sure what to do with his hand. He's not sure if he can touch you, or pull you closer towards him while he wants to. He doesn't want to scare you away.

"Tell me a secret", you say softly, surprising yourself and him. When Mattheo gives you a raised eyebrow, you roll your eyes. "We're supposed to be dating, aren't we? Especially after you beat the shit out of my ex it's pretty solid for the students around us. And people who are dating know each other's secrets. So... tell me a secret."

There is an unreadable look on his face and you stop your ministrations, eyes locking with each other. "Did you know some of that piece of shit's secrets?", he muses with a small teasing smile on his face.

You huff. "Some..." Continuing, your movements are a little harsher than before. Because now that you think about it, you knew the bare minimum about Malcolm. It's also not like he let you get to know him. He didn't even come with you to Christmas at your home. And your family does a bomb-ass Christmas party each year. "I'll tell one if you tell one."

Mattheo seems to think for a moment, his focus on a spot over your shoulder as he filters through all his secrets and memories. "My family are Parselmouths."

Your mouth falls open and your hand stops in the air. "Like... like speaking to snakes? As in you hiss against snakes and they hiss back?" You eye him with amazement while his cheeks colour a bright red.

"I- it's not like that!" He tries to laugh away your question. "Parseltongue is more... yeah it's kinda like hissing", he admits, hanging his head a bit.

You wipe away the last of the blood and start to clean up. "Do snakes have accents? Or is it more of a universal language? And can everybody in your family do it?"

It's refreshing to Mattheo to find someone who isn't freaked out by his ability. He also finds your questions amusing. They are different. Fun. "I never noticed the accent thing. But I've only met one snake in real life, so I wouldn't know..."

"Can you say something?" You try your best to give him puppy eyes to convince him. But you've heard that you never were the best at it.

A laugh bubbles from within his chest. He looks at you through his lashes and clears his throat. His Adam's apple bops up and down as he swallows and his lips part. Out comes the strangest sound you ever heard. It's indeed a hissing sound, but at the same time his words — if you can call the noise he makes words — have a strange melody to them. It makes the hairs on your arms stand up straight.

"Wow", you whisper once he's done, "And what does it mean?"

"Well", laughs Mattheo, "That's a know for me and for you to figure out."

You chuckle, grabbing your wand to close the wounds, but he stops it. "Leave them be", he says, "It's proof of me beating his pathetic ass." He traces circles with his thumb atop your hand. "Now… what's your secret?"

You toss your head back with a silent laugh. "Fair. Fair. My family — for as long as we have known — are born Animagi. Every single child has been able to transform into a badger."

He raises his brows. "A badger? How fitting", he teases.

Rolling your eyes at his quip, you lean back against the sink with your hand still in his. You don't mind it, you even slightly enjoy it. The way the rough pad of his finger feels against your skin. "The whole Hufflepuff area kinda looks like a burrow. I get where Meemaw got the idea."

Mattheo lets out a sudden laugh. "Meemaw?" There is no ill content behind his laugh. It brings a smile of your own to your face.

"Helga Hufflepuff. She has a painting above the fireplace that's connected with one at home. Also above the fireplace", you laugh. But it slowly melts off your face as your words dawn upon you.

Mattheo slowly starts to become concerned at the look on your face. Your heart races in your chest. How could you be so stupid? How could you have forgotten about Meemaw?

"The painting is connected with home! Oh fuck! She will snitch on me! And now Mom and Dad will think we're...-!"

"Think we're what? Sleeping together? Is that such a horrible idea?" Mattheo straightens his back and his eyes darken.

You shake your head, running a hand over your face. "That's not what I meant. I wouldn't mind it, but I don't want my parents to know that! Ew", you frown and a shudder runs through your body.

The boy before you stands up and closes the space between the two of you. "You wouldn't mind?", he muses with a teasing grin on his face. He turns your head with his knuckles so you're looking at him and traces your bottom lip slowly.

Your lips part as you look up at him through your lashes. Your breath quickens and you feel his chest pressed against you with each rise of your chest. His scent fills your senses and consumes you. It's overwhelming. It makes your stomach do flips.

You wonder if he feels the same.

Just as you slowly angle your face towards him and close your eyes, a knock on the door makes you jump. Mattheo stumbles back, almost crashing against the toilet and landing in the bathtub.

"One- one moment!", you call out, quickly cleaning up the first-aid kit. Mattheo scrambles to straighten himself up before helping you.

The two of you share a look before you open the door. Mattheo slips out and rushes out of your dorm and out of the common room.

"No way?!", gasps Susan, her mouth agape.

"Was that-?", asks Hannah with wide eyes.

Sending the two girls a look. "Not one word!"

The next morning at breakfast your panic turns out not misplaced as your family's house owl comes flying towards you with a sealed letter for you.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch @jolly4holly @daisiesformylove @frogtape @dancing-inasnowglobe @slytheos @undercover-smutlover @reverse-soe @nikkissecretlibrary @moon-struck-meraki @bengbengbengi @justhavingsomefun1 @itsamusical4lifee @genshingeeksworld @y0urm0m12

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mrsrookhunt · 1 year ago

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hi, hi! could I ask for pt 2 of the twst "what to expect when your lab experiment drinks formula," I just thought it was rlly cute!☺ you can do any sort of characters, I don't mind!

What to Expect When your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula Pt. 2

Hihi! Actually, I wrote that scenario for all the characters in twst I'm writing for right now (I'm new to the fandom), so I've gone ahead and made this into a followup on how they're doing as parents, hope you don't mind! Thanks the ask!

Warnings: Mild Chap 7 spoiler (Lilia), Rook & Floyd want so many kids your house is going to look like the 100 baby sims challenge.

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Part one! Rook Hunt! Part Two (here), Part Three!

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Malleus Draconia

Malleus is running wild with the new heir. As much as he loves you, so much of his time is occupied by playing with his baby that you don't even see him around as often as you used to.

Your new baby is named Ormr, an ancient name directly meaning 'dragon'. Malleus pouted for a bit that it didn't start with 'Mal' but you assured him that it could be a great fresh start before the Draconia family ran out of names.

While you were still a bit disoriented by the strange circumstances, you were adjusting just fine to being a parent. Your little one kept you on your toes, breathing fire onto your homework when you weren't giving them enough attention and flying away with your food when Malleus taught them how to fly short distances.

Get out the broom. There's a dragon baby with a pb&j on the ceiling.

Malleus' love of your child surprised you a bit. Though you had known that he had technically set up the entire creation of the child, you never expected for Malleus to take so strongly to the little dragon fae.

To be fair, the entirety of Briar Valley seemed to rejoice at the news of your little one, so you supposed that your child was more important than it would be to a normal family. This was the continuation of his bloodline, without posing any risk of losing you, his favorite Child of man.

It was perfect, a blissful life together.

Malleus is constantly supportive of you and works hard to be both a father and a partner. He never fails to make your family feel loved and connected, even in trying times.

Rook Hunt

Rook's baby is... Rook's baby.

The little creature is mischievous, even for its young age.

It may not be able to crawl, but provided anything of importance is in its general vicinity, it will be swiped, hidden, or destroyed with an innocent giggle.

Rook manages the child much better than you. Although you love your child to death, they seem to have inherited Rook's predatory mind in their entirety, and it makes Rook far more equipped to handle the baby's demeanor.

When you look away, you'll most certainly be hit with the first thing in reach of your little one. You blame Rook for this, who reveled in showing them documentaries on hunting through the ages from birth.

Soon, it's more complex weapons. Sharp rocks from your trip outside to play have somehow become entrapped in a very deliberately tangled slinky and thrown at the back of your head.

You know it's all in good fun between Rook & your little one, but your baby will be as skilled a hunter as Rook someday. He was not wrong to call your child his little hunter from the moment it fell into your arms.

Rook wants a large family, so you'd better be prepared for lots of little predators running around the house. Good luck trying to keep them from attempting to murder each other.

Extra: Rook is the type to remember that recipe to a tee. If you so much as mention having another child, ten more are going to show up the next day. Honestly he's waiting for you to slip up and mention it. He's absolutely in love with your family, and would be overjoyed to expand it. Best of luck to you.

Floyd Leech

As soon as you were asleep that night, little child snug in a makeshift bassinet next to you, Floyd was already sneaking out to create more children.

You woke up to six more on the bed with you, one of which woke you up directly by biting you for attention.

Overall you've had much trouble managing all the little literal ankle biters. If it weren't for the liberal help from Jade, Grim and Ace, you would not be able to manage all seven.

However, this does not stop you from loving them entirely. The babies love you to death, and you're extremely bonded to them as well. When you and Floyd fight, there's suddenly seven growling creatures lined up behind you, at the ready to attack.

Despite being 110% like Floyd, they are very certain in their favoritism. Two of your children refuse to have him nearby at all.

He claims it breaks his heart, but you catch him praising your little ones with frozen grapes and soda to reinforce their bond with you.

Definitely not what a baby should be fed but when you said they couldn't eat seafood he switched gears to 'land food', and would take no further criticisms.

The best times are cuddle nights. Twice a week, all of you cuddle up in your Ramshackle dorm room and cozy up to a movie and snacks. This continues until well into their childhoods let's be honest. It becomes a Leech family tradition.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human! Get it! GET IT!!!"

Your baby is very adventurous.... or something close to it.

Always tumbling off furniture and rolling off changing tables, or falling down for some reason or other.

You can have ten sets of eyes on this child and it does not matter, this baby will stubbornly look into your eyes and throw itself off the couch.

There's so much chaos, constantly, when it comes to little baby Zigvolt.

Sebek's excellent training is the only reason that your child has not been hospitalized for concussions.

But his excellent training has not saved him from the baby's love of biting their father. So, so many times. Every time Sebek catches it.

Chomp.

Every time he bathes it.

Chomp.

Everytime he changes a diaper.

Chomp.

Sebek is covered in tiny little baby bites.

But oh, how your baby adores you. In between bouts of defiance and finger-snacking moods, your baby loves to lie in your arms and cuddle.

It's arguably the most comfortable time you get with Sebek and your baby.

And I do mean arguably, because Sebek swears up and down that the baby is happiest in the presence of Malleus, and it's a hill he's willing to die on. But you know he really just wants an excuse to show off your baby to Silver.

Silver is not impressed.

Your baby is the very definition of a headache to Sebek. They cry everytime they see Malleus, they hate any sort of regimen, they love to play and play and... play more. All day long. No work or training to be seen here, baby Zigvolt will NOT be having it unless you want 4 hours of ear-splitting tantrums. And the baby still won't do the work when they're done.

But still, you see Sebek in every aspect of your baby. The strength, the way your child loves you unconditionally, but treats everyone else cautiously, and overall, the refusal to do anything that doesn't align with their little baby whims.

You've lovingly termed your baby 'Stubborn Ziggy the Second'. Sebek is not a fan, but he allowed it after you let go of 'Swamp dog & Swamp puppy'.

Lilia Vanrouge

screaming.

And more screaming.

It is not the baby. It is you trying to find the baby.

"OH MY GOD I LOST IT, I LOST OUR BABY OH MY GOD---"

And then--

"Weh!" The baby pops its head out of a cabinet with its hands up the way Lilia does to scare them.

The baby giggles and coos at its own joke, making grabby hands while it waits for you to come get it.

You're just dumbfounded. You're going to have to scold Lilia, because now your little one is picking up on yet another one of his pranks.

Your baby is a lot like you, with one exception-- your baby is so playful and teasing that it honestly gives The Great Lilia Himself a run for his money.

Last week, you were frantically searching for an expensive piece of jewelry, when it dropped down on your head from the spot where little baby Vanrouge was apparently levitating it from.

Oh yes, your child's magic is coming in strong. Though Lilia's is fading, you tease that perhaps the little one is just absorbing it from him outright, showing him videos of your child's most recent magical displays of strength.

Your family bonds through jokes and playful faces, entirely. Lilia is probably a candidate for The Worst Parent on Earth, so you do most of the housework. It's not like Lilia's never offered, it's that you promised Silver not to let Lilia traumatize his little sibling. All of your best moments are spent by making space in your schedule for your family time.

Lil Vanrouge needs all your love, and Lilia Vanrouge does too. It's a fine balance between upsetting either of them, though dealing with hours of screaming and petty annoyance is not a hard decision.

Just make sure both are getting enough cuddles, and maybe don't judge growing-up lil Vanrouge when they decide they love gaming...

Azul Ashengrotto

Don't forget about Azul, please.

Your baby has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile, but is it as cute as Azul? Cuter, probably. But don't tell him that.

Azul loves your child with all his heart, but he's a bit miffed that it requires so much of your love and attention.

You and baby Ashengrotto are very bonded, so it's rare to see you apart for a moment. And in that moment... Azul is putting on Full-Drama Mode. Cuddles, cuddles. More cuddles. Give him a kiss. Could you please take a bath with him? He's just so tired, he doesn't think he can take a bath by himself. Would you mind giving him a massage? You're too tired? That's ok, you scratch his back and he'll scratch yours. He's not too tired after all. He'll give you a massage.

Your little one is so much like their father, wanting all the attention and love in the world, but getting the priority treatment. Little baby Ashengrotto is Octavinelle's favorite thing ever. Everyone just wants to love on them and see their cuteness.

Azul was going to charge people to see them until you put your foot down and said no.

Azul knows how precious his child is. Secretly, he does want another. Two, just for a healthy statistical number's sake. But he won't tell you that. He's trying to come to terms with the shift in attention with one tiny octomer right now, maybe waiting a couple of years would be more optimal. He will never admit that he's jealous of your child, but claims that he's 'working through his issues when you bring it up.

But Azul will always prioritize his baby as well, even if unintentionally. In the end, the wellbeing of his family comes first and foremost.

And maybe showing off mini-mer to the Mostro lounge staff.

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zvezdacito · 4 months ago

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Tbh I think a lot of people downplay the stakes Malleus is in that makes him overblot as just surface level loneliness by itself and that's why they think his overblot is unwarranted/annoying compared to the other six. It makes sense he jumps to such drastic measures to avoid facing whatever comes next because whatever it is will last not just a few years but literally a millennium + either way because of multiple systemic reasons he knows he's not just gonna be able to connect with a bunch of new people/explore a bunch of new experiences to make up for it.

Compared to other overblotters, it seems no matter what course of action Malleus will end up in a bad ending since he's a species seemingly among the few left of his kind while also being biologically predisposed to outliving everyone. It's as if he can never have a happy ending as long as he's himself, or that as a king (and symbolic "lord of all villains") his happiness will only come at the cost of others'.

I feel like a lot of people also give him the entire blame of his failures to connect properly with his peers. When even before they knew about his impulsivity or lack of cognitive empathy people were already jumping to conclusions about him. (Said mindsets came about from internalizing the depersonalization he was raised with, he's the sole heir of a country battered by colonization who place very high expectations on him to be a symbol of hope for them again after all)

Assuming the worse because of his powers, the reputation that came from it, and because of (the once again systemic issue) humans and people outside the Briar Valley barely knowing anything about/only having stereotypical rumors to go off the nocturnal fae who closed themselves off to try and stop humans from invading them more💀

So yeah givevn all of this Malleus was a ticking time bomb and even then he was about to just stand down and put his own feelings aside until he became accidentally convinced there was a way that didn't have to exclude him. It's an unfortunate clash of circumstances between different people and that's what TWST is all about. So yeah idk just kinda baffling some people are unironically out there saying things like "Malleus should've just held himself together for one night that's so selfish" when it's kinda made extremely clear by the story there's way more leading to the characters' making choices than that

From an outside point of view as the audience of course there are obvious steps Malleus could take to make the most out of what he has and to not inadvertently be a prick to others, but it pretty obvious why in his shoes it's not really feasible rn lol. Other than these things I could think of at the top of my head, a lot of the things people single him out as especially selfish or unreasonable for are things the other overblotters and characters in general also do lol.

> Like the class dynamics at play? NRC is literally rich boy central many characters express some kind of class privelege

> Not receiving consequences for his actions? This is a staple twst writing flaw for all its stories in general, most overblotters have gotten a slap on the wrist/their actions relatively covered up by the end. And Fellow legit just walks away from an undisclosed time of human trafficking like it was no big deal😭

Ironically Malleus will probably be the first overblotter to not have his actions hidden to only a select circle of people and receive severe repercussions for it because someone like him "should've been above that".

But yeah sometimes I feel like the extent of how some factors in Malleus's background, upbringing and environment determine his way of thinking and why he thinks he needs to do certain things is underestimated by the fandom and only the surface level of what he's doing is focused on which results in some people talking about his character and his flaws in a very dismissive way idk

#bumping into the most mid malleus opinions posts of all time has been stressing me out #im 3 seconds away from passing out rn so this is written kinda sloppily #malleus draconia #word barf #twisted wonderland

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raydom-gamer · 4 months ago

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So I had this dream and I think all of Twisted Wonderland fandom would enjoy the chaos.

Reader is attempting to be gender-neutral. Suggestive theme, talk about laying eggs, possible hermaphrodite Malleus (depending on your gender) and way too much detail for the stupidity of Malleus wanting dirty talk.

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Years after graduating from NRC and marrying the love of your life, Malleus. There were trials and tribulations dealing with being a human on a fae throne. You have had your ups and downs with faes not quite accepting you but appreciating how you pull out the more gentler side of the draconian bloodline. Maleficent not happy but acceptant of her grandson's spouse due to the energetic and joyful life you bring to the melancholy castle. Malleus showing is happy bubbly side more often making him more approachable but not less intimidating.

The kingdom is in a weird balance knowing that dragons only has one mate for life and the unknowns of a possible Dragon Human heir. The kingdom tends to whisper amongst each other in both common and fae tongue. You begin to notice that whenever your people are discussing something that they're concerned will upset you or the king (mostly the king if you're upset) they switched to fae in order to have more of a private conversation.

Although you are not blood to the throne, this is still your kingdom and you want to make sure that if there are underlying issues that could be solved but they're worried about it then you should be one of the first to know of this issue. That's when you brought the idea to your husband that the two of you should in secret teach you how to speak fae.

Malleus was a bit taken aback by your request but was happy at the thought of you speaking in his mother tongue. The two of you agree that these lessons should be private during the evenings, in case you mispronounce something that was unintentionally insult and get the gossip mill running. You began to notice how your husband enjoyed your lessons together given how vigorous he was with you later in the night after the lessons. Malleus had always been the type that got delighted when talking or doing things that he was proud or passionate of.

This began your normal routine of 3 times a week of the two of you spending time teaching you new words and correctly making sentences in the correct pronunciation. Many evenings have been spent with him correcting your sentence and the joy that would light up in his eyes when you would pronounce it right. Even the notes that he had written in his mother tongue to help him keep track of what you've completed and work on the building blocks of your new language. Malleus thrilled with your progress during those nights that he would get you to properly talk about mundane things that it was not uncommon for you to wake up satisfied and sore.

You yourself were quite proud that not only your husband but the very king of this beautiful country was teaching you and praising you, verbally and physically. You knew eventually you would gain the courage to try out your new tea time conversation in the hopes of being able to respond back properly to someone else then your husband but for now you were quite content with your lessons.

Of course as time went by your confidence in the language grew the point that when Lilia had stopped by the castle for one of his visits for your personal bodyguard and his dearest son. You've known Lilia for almost as long as you've known your own husband and figured if anyone would have the patience for a conversation with a newbie in fae speak that he is your bat fae. So you had requested a private alone time to have tea in the garden with Lilia. You and Lilia caught up with each other's lives. Lilia telling you about what odd adventures, he's gone on since he retired. You with the random squabbles between tradition and acceptance of the new generation of things.

You decided that this would be the best time to ask Lilia if he'd be willing to attempt a fae conversation with you. Lilia both surprised and a little proud joyfully accepted and wanted to know what your lessons were about in order to figure out what you know and what you don't. You had picked up the notebook of Malleus's teaching for your lessons and handed it to Lilia explaining the contents. Lilia asked for a dry run first just to understand your stance in the language. So in fae, you had asked him "if he would like to have a particular type of tea leaf or the castles daily blend of tea leaves?"

Lilia's eyes widen as his face slightly flushed. He asks you to repeat what you had said common tongue. As you do, you see in his eyes a spark of concern, confusion and a hint of amusement as you spot his fangs poking out from his crooked grin then asking "If Malleus is the only one giving you lessons?" After replying in the affirmative that besides him, Malleus is the only one to hear you speak in this language. Lilia grabs the notebook starts flipping through it. He flips the book over and asks "If you're able to read anything that is on here?" You tell him unfortunately "No, you've been only trying to learn verbal and Malleus usually reads any fae scripture to you." Lilia asks you to say another sentence that you are confident in stating. You in fae language tell Lilia "How lovely the weather has been for your tea time."

As you finish your statement you hear a snort as Lilia falls off of his chair laughing a deep gut wrenching laugh. He's coughing and hacking and wheezing from his place on the cobblestone ground of the gazebo where you both have been under. You start raising your voice while asking Lilia "If he is okay and What is so funny?" You're worried that maybe you have pronounced something so wrong that the old bat face is laughing at your naivety.

The commotion of your raised voice and the strangled laughs that could be mistaken for a painful cry causes you to hear the clanking of armor as Silver rounds the corner to see his father on the ground. Silver runs to his dad to make sure that he's okay and asks you "What has happened?" while looking suspiciously at the food and drink on the table.

You tell Silver how the two of you were just discussing things and how you wanted to try to have a conversation in the fae tongue instead of common but you think that you've said something to cause Lilia to be laughing at you till his face is a reddish purple color while wincing every time his ribs move from over use.

Silver asks you "What you had said to him?", hoping that his father is not picking on you. You repeated the two sentences back to Silver and see the absolute look of horror on his normally stoic face. Silver looks around hoping in the hopes of no other prying ears in this situation before looking back at you. He only asks "If Malleus was the one to have these lessons with you?" When you reply "Yes", Lilia points at the notebook on the table and proceeds to to continue laughing in the most painful way that you know he's going to be sore later. Silver looks at the notebook that is already open. As Silver began reading he quickly covered his mouth but one glance at you had him busting up laughing like his father and using the table to trying keep himself from falling to the ground.

Upon this you have now realized that your husband may have not been telling you the truth about the conversations the two of you have been having during your evening sessions. You feel your attitude twisting into aggravation and annoyance similar to the storm clouds above turning a bit aggressive.

You start rewinding all of your lessons in your head and start to notice that certain words and phrases seem to get your husband's attention a lot more interested then it should have. Unfortunately for you at the time you had just taken this as a sign of your growing progress. As you are looking at two of the stronger life forms wheezing and laughing heavily, much to your bruised egos dismay. As you turn to Silver with concern on your face, you were about to ask him specifically what you had said only to be interrupted. A ball of green lights flutter away like fireflies gently explodes as both Malleus and Sebek are now standing in the gazebo. You and Malleus make eye contact as the anger pours in your heated glare towards your husband.

In the castle ~~~~~~~~~ Malleus point of view

Moments before the king and his personal bodyguard had shown in front of you. They had spotted what they thought were their comrade and mentor in complete distress while you stood there helplessly. Sebek wondering "If someone had poison or tampered with the edible items on the table."

Malleus feels heat rise to his face at the very thought of someone hurting his beloved spouse but also the fea who raised him with the son and the human he considers his own brother. Sebek noticing the previously lovely mid spring day growing dark as the thunderclouds start to roll in, realizing that his King is agitated. Sebek tries to calm Malleus down by reminding him that "If something like that is happening then his spouse would have gone and gotten help immediately instead of standing there watching them."

Malleus on the other hand is not too sure about that given his hearing he can hear the strangle cries of Lilia and the gasp from Silver while also hearing your own heartbeat and breathing erratic. Fear shot through Malleus as he sees Silver leaning over the tea table and quickly covering his mouth before almost collapsing himself. Malleus sees the distress on your face as you turn to Silver. Sadness, anger, distress, bitterness and fear. Things he never wants to ever see on your beautiful face but there it was and he was not going to let it continue if he has the ability to stop it.

Malleus couldn't take it anymore and hooked his arm around Sebek's shoulders pulling him close as he teleports both of them into the gardens gazebo. As the two land, Malleus takes a quick glance around to see if anything is suspicious before meeting the love of his life's eyes that shoot daggers towards him.

Gardens gazebo ~~~~~~~~~

Green. Beautiful, electric green eyes that for years that you've never once gotten tired of gazing towards them and watching the emotions that filter out. Right now, you see nothing but concern and confusion while you glare furiously at the dragon that has the audacity to trick you while thinking that you would never catch on.

Your first thought is to question Malleus in his (possibly) inappropriate behavior of teaching you a language incorrectly but knowing that he could just lie and say that that you were pronouncing it. You decide that your dear husband deserves to be caught up in a trap with witnesses that will have no way out of it. Thinking about it for a minute you realize that there is one word that seem to catch both Silver's and Lila's attention that also your dear husband was particular about you pronouncing correctly.

Silence.

Both Lilia and Silver stopped laughing immediately as they both glance your way. One of the men waiting for the amusement and chaos to rain while the other trying to figure out which fae or human to save from the situation. Sebek horrified and beat red in the face looks between you and his mentor.

Malleus with his jaw dropped with a look of betrayal as his eyes begin to water a bit. He knew that you and Lilia really had a good relationship but he had hoped you only save that kind of conversation with him. Especially after those wonderful late night conversat- oh, WAIT! THAT WAS FACE TONGUE!

Malleus's eyes scan the area and sees his notebook on the tea table open. Malleus's goes pale in the face as he turns back to you and that's when he sees it. That bitter anger that you only give him when he is going to be thrown out of his bed chambers into the shed. You had specifically built a shed in the garden for him to live in when you are crossed with him. Malleus avoids that shed like the plague haven't already spent a few nights in it after you refused to open the door despite his many pathetic pleas and his remorseful dragon chirping. He is going to use the wise wisdom that you bestowed on him back in college that "You can't punish someone, if you can't catch them." Malleus realizing the writing on the wall takes a step back, only to be cut off by a question that unfortunately convicts him of his crime.

Sebek still hot red in the face demands an explanation as to "Why you and his mentor would be talking about such inappropriate things?" You turn turn to Sebek and ask "What exactly was appropriate about what you said?" Sebek snaps his gaze at you extremely irritated he's talking about the fact that "YOU WERE TALKING EITHER TALKING ABOUT CHICKENS OR MALE GENITALS TO EACH OTHER!" You ask "If this was the word you were using as you speak in fae tongue." As Sebek was about to answer truthfully, he gets cut off by a hand gripping his shoulder almost bending the metal of his armor from strength of the grip. Sebek looks over to see his King in complete distress then confirms by the look on your face that he should stop talking.

That was all the confirmation you needed. You quickly close the gap between you and Malleus feeling the heat of rage boiling your blood. As you were toe to toe with Malleus, you look up fuming at him and begin to demand "Why the word tea is apparently a new version of the word cock?!" As you chew into Malleus, he lets go of Sebek's shoulder then takes a step back and runs as fast as you can away from you.

You yell at Malleus for running away from his problems but appreciate slightly that he is still respecting 'your don't teleport away from me when we're talking about things you don't like rule.'

Tying up Loose Ends/ background people ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This unfortunately this is how Maleficent gets to see her grandson running away from their human spouse yelling about tea and cock. While being chased after her grandson's personal bodyguard, who is trying to explain that he misheards you and the word was definitely "TEA!" As he is being chased by your personal bodyguard, who is explaining that Sebek is lying and that you should not use the words that Malleus had taught you to the public while he is caring that obnoxious bat over his shoulder. Who at this point is making very distressed goose honking noises from his body overloading from laughter of the situation.

Maleficent then took it upon herself to teach you the fae tongue due to her grandson's in an adequacy of intelligence that she blames did not come from her bloodline. Within 6 months you are very fluent in fae tongue and enjoy having deep meaningful conversations with the older feas, who have and will not be learning common tongue.

The only unfortunately soul of this situation was Malleus because besides being thrown out sleep in the shed for two weeks before being allowed back into his bed chambers with you. Also you have made it very clear that you will never be talking dirty to him in fae tongue as a permanent punishment for being dumb enough to think that you would never have a conversation with someone else, knowing perfectly well that that was the point of you learning it.

You're still very mortified though at the fact that you now know the full extent of the statements you had told those men (mostly Lilia and Silver, who both told you not to worry about it because they are used to the outrageous behavior of Malleus). Only when Lilia had heard about the three eggs that was laid from the two of you making the next generation of the royal line did he have some fun. Lilila decided to make some very funny comments from the previous statements, you have given him during that tea causing him personal details of your bedroom activities.

This resulting in a very upset dragon who has been kicked out of his bedroom/nest due to his spouses embarrassment. Malleus then spents his time begging to be allowed into his bedroom and when that does not work he then teleports to the bat's own residence. Malleus yells for hours about how he's still being punished for something that happened years ago. Things his human spouse enjoys when they are left with way too much free time and no supervision. Lilia on the other hand now regrets making his jokes about your bedroom activities because of having to deal with a disgruntled dragon who is making his punishment Lilia's punishment now.

And that's all I have of that dream I had that I can remember. Sorry if it's a little choppy, I was trying to recall everything because this is something that I think is goofy enough to happen if you're in a romantic relationship with Malleus who decided his lizard brain was only going to run at half capacity.

Also I know this alphabet is not fae tongue but I want to tell at least make it very clear for the dialogue of what's happening. This is the alphabet I used.

#funny #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland silver #silver vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland scenario

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