#leona angst

[eliciria]

Ahmmm..

Headcanons for Leona Kingscholar while being friends with benefits with Reader/yuu

Angst and fluff??

a/n : thanks so much for requesting! My first post that actually shows my writing! wow! Sorry if it's a bit more angsty than fluff, i naturally go there hehe. Hope you enjoy!

whisper to the trees... (ask box) : open

check my about me/request rules here

wc : 0.8k words

cws : suggestive but still fluff, miscommunication phase for like 2 seconds, swearing, kind of ooc leona, potentially happy ending? gn reader

song playing : this is how it feels by laufey ft. d4vd

Leona Kingscholar with a friends to benefit! Relationship

I'll be so real right now, he actually wouldn't do any type of PDA with you. Even if you lean to more of the affectionate and almost lover-type phase of your 'friendship', he won't even attempt to try and hold your hand out in the open.

That doesn't mean he doesn't want to, though.

It's just that his pride kind of gets in the way when he attempts to brush his fingers against yours a little longer.

Pride is also probably the main reason why both of you remain friends. You think he wants to remain friends, while he struggles to pour his true emotions to you.

It leads into a cycle of ghosting then love bombing. The lack of responsibility within the interactions of both of you, before finally missing you becomes toxic.

He misses your supposed first dates, before apologizing later in the night. After reconciling, you'd attempt to meet up with him again past your `nightly activities` , but he misses it again. The cycle repeats.

Frankly, you were a bit sick of it. But you gave him one last chance to talk it out with you after class. To figure it out together.

So when he notices you right after he flirts with a random student(for them to carry one of the group projects, that is). He can't help but regret to have confessed earlier.

You walk hastily, trying to avoid the awkward situation you just witnessed. You finally got your answer, but you wished it wasn't in this way.

You pretended that you weren't in denial, and your actions showed the opposite. You really were. Tears were fighting to come out, and your lips trembled in both sadness and anger.

You only snapped out of it when Leona grabbed your hand a bit too tightly, breaking you out of your train of thought.

"Are you seriously walking away?" He asked you. How funny. You scoff.

"After witnessing that? Any person would."

"You don't understand." Really? Is this how he is going to act? You roll your eyes, tears sliding.

"Just what do I not understand? That you pulled that shit on me? Just how long do you think I can handle this bullshit?" Your voice attempts to remain stable, but the broken sobs break your attempt to look like you didn't care. You were just friends, yes. But the nights where he had "loved" you felt too much now.

" Yuu--"

"What, huh? I'm tired, so tired of you treating me like a whore. Like someone with no dignity. You treat me like a friend, and I'm happy you do. But when we try to step forward, you act like I'm just a fucking bed warmer! Just what do you want from me Leona?! I can't keep up with this. I love you, but I'm tired. Please, just stop-"

You get interrupted with your face being buried in his chest. He was embracing you, with a bit too much gentleness. He was stroking your hair, muttering a "shhh...". You hit his chest again and again, your broken sobs muffled. It would happen all over again. You'd fall again, and he'd do nothing but let you.

He watched as you screamed at him. It was understandable, he had refused to show any sign that he had truly loved you. But when he picked up the noise of students' footsteps, he can't help but want this to be cut short.

Nobody can hear your cries, unless it was him.

He immediately embraced you, both in comfort, and to blur your cries.

As you hit him as he hugs you, he gripped you a bit tighter. The punches were weak, and he was too focused on stopping you from crying.

Students passed by the both of you, glaring at the scene. A couple hugging in a hallway? Out of all the places?

But they rushed on as they noticed his death stare. The second they had tried to look at your face, he was tempted to pounce at them right then or there. He fought the urge to actually commit the act; he simply moved himself so all they would see was his back, and not you.

After a few more minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I do love you. I really fucking do. The only person I want to see is you. The only person I want to be with is you. I just...don't know how to tell you that. I acted incredibly douchey, so i apologize. For everything. For all the dates I missed. For the missed opportunities to say I love you. For not being able to give you what you deserve. I'll change. Fuck, I'll do anything. I need you, so please. Don't leave."

You remain still, before letting out a jagged breath. You held onto the side of his jacket, and he rests his hand on your neck, the other on your waist. You look at him.

"I won't."

a/n : the cycle continues! if you liked this, please like or repost it! again, my asks are open, and thanks for reading!

[nemisisnemi]

OH we're allowed more than one ask? >:) Can I get Leona downright sobbing please <3

you asked and i deliver~

thanks for requesting!!

nemi's art requesting guidelines here!

[4ngelholic]

"leave me.. don't leave me.."

ft. riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto

cw. angst, might be ooc(?)

! reader = prefect !

a/n. kinda got repetitive but at he same time not, sorry lmao 😭

“whispers could be heard, it's almost like they weren't even trying to hide it. he shrugged it off simply thinking it wasn't that important for him to intervene. soon enough there was an odd feeling building in his chest when the constant whispering doesn't seem to stop especially when he feels like the topic is about him. and when his close friend tells him the reason why, he can't seem but to feel guilty and not deserving you.”

¹ | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"why are they together? he's so controlling and strict..."

"watch him start controlling them in their relationship."

"he's scary too.. what would happen to his partner when he forces the queen of hearts' rules onto them.."

─ he figured that it was about him and you when trey told him about it.

─ he wasn't happy about it. when he heard what they said from trey, he wanted to collar them all.

─ controlling? strict? after his overblot incident he was more lenient than he was before. but there's people still chatting their mouths about it?

─ but.. what did you think about all of this? did you think the same way as the others did?

─ please don't.. it hurts thinking about how you would look at him with such disappointment in your eyes.

² | LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

"did you hear about his unique magic? it's so terrifying.."

"it's even more scary knowing he overblotted with such a dangerous ability.."

"knowing that his partner is dating him even after the incident that probably could've gotten them killed is.."

─ ruggie didn't even need to tell him about what the other students were yapping about he could hear them from miles away.

─ if his unique magic is so terrifying why talk about it when he could simply do it to them?

─ not like he could anyways..

─ he barely uses his unique magic. so what's the point in bringing it up?

─ but wait, why did they have to mention you into this?

─ why did they have to mention you being killed by him?

─ what would happen if you were to hear this? would you think that your life is on the line when you're with him?

─ don't you dare cast him away and leave him in the shadows like the rest of them did..

³ | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

"how could they forgive AND date him after taking their dorm?"

"I can't imagine what would happen to them if he breaks up with them for his benefit.."

"watch him use his contracts on them again."

─ no one had to tell him at all about the whispers that was carried and flooded around the school.

─ he accidentally overheard everything when he was returning to octavinelle along with the tweels.

─ jade suggested that he and floyd could take care of them for him so they wouldn't dare to cross azul again.

─ at first, azul almost agreed allowing them to do whatever what they were going to do.

─ then in a flash, your face appeared across his mind.

─ what would you think of him if you found out?

─ would you disagree? or agree with them? even though he doesn't want to admit it, he knows that you deserve better and you shouldn't have forgiven him after what he did to you.

─ what would happen if you do agree..?

─ he doesn't want to lose you. because he knows damn well, you were the best thing that happened to him in his whole life.

─ it didn't matter to him if he had to face his past over and over again. don't leave him.

|| comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! ||

[maopll]

Hello I'm not sure if my request is allowed since i did not see it on the rules so pls ignore it it is not allowed.

May I request Leona, Jamil, Rook and Malleus with a S/O who is suffering from depression? Another thing is they have caught the reader trying to unalive themselves, and harming themselves, their mental health is also getting worse. I'd like to see the boy's reaction and how they'd comfort their S/O(since it it similar to my current situation).

I understand if you're not comfortable with this request or do not want to do it. I also apologize of it is against the rules. I'd also like to say that I enjoy reading your works a lot. Please take care of yourself. Thank you and enjoy your day!<3

Let me heal your scars

| twisted wonderland !

⌗:, scars on the outside heal after a time. but...are there any methods or medications that can heal the scars inflicted on the inside?....

⌗:, a/n: anon I am comfortable with this request as I myself have gone through similar situations but you need to push through ! I hope you find solace in whatever keeps you happy and please don't do anything that might unalive you ! I love you <3 I have added things I kind of felt when situation like those happened

⌗:, warning: mentions of reader unaliving themselves,, trauma,, mental health issues,, read at your own risk ! angst !

⌗:, pairings: leona, jamil, malleus, rook w/ gn!reader

,,your depression has gotten worse. you still have freakish nightmares and you slowly start to wonder "do I really have any worth?" "maybe I am useless" "it is my fault that I always fail". these thoughts keep plaguing you mind it's as if someone is telling you to just k!ll yourself. maybe you should just?....

LEONA refuses to let anything get to his weakness and he would absolutely hate it when someone or something is the reason his cherished herbivore is going through hard times and having negative thoughts. He believed that when you are with him no dark thoughts would engulf your mind but...not everything can be kept at bay...

whenever you would visit savannahclaw you would most wear short sleeves or if you ever wore a long sleeve it would be mostly during winter but short sleeves were your favourite. However he noticed a sudden change in your clothing pattern with you wearing long sleeves more than often and turtlenecks . He may be laidback but he too once aimed for the throne of a king...

He knew you would never tell him so when you were sleeing in his arms he looked under your sleeves and for the first time he was frightened and covered in cold sweat.

" [name]...why do you have those cuts on your hands and on your neck ?" for the first time, your leona was dead serious with anything and his voice was a decible lower than usual. you knew that you would have to provide an atleast believeable excuse to make him believe. but no matter how much you tried to answer you felt as if you were being engulfed by the floor and damn gravity never felt this heavy.

you burst into tears. the thoughts, the pressure of life, the decisions, everything fell on you like a thousand bricks. he sucked at comforting but he knew hugs were your favourite. he told you to cry as much as you wanted to. he patted your back and offered to listen to everything you've been going through those days.

he may not be able to relate with you but atleast he can lessen the pain you've felt.

JAMIL himself had to undergo some strict training in his childhood but he had to admit that whatever happened with you nothing of the sort happened to him. so he couldn't share the nor understand your feelings but just know...that he will do whatever it takes to help you

you would visit his dorms and sometimes dance with him under the moonlight with passion because it was something you wanted to do, something that would be very intimate but recently he saw less passion in you and frequent absences of your presence on many days. he thought you were busy but there's no way that you would be absent for two weeks right?...

he was on his way to Ramshackle dorm to see what you were doing, and if there were any homework, he might help you with those, but he definitely didn't expect your silhouette standing on the highest balcony railing ready to jump. he was frozen with fear. 'there's no way that YOU would do this..'

as soon as he saw your feet leave the railing, he sprinted to the spot where you might fall, and thank goodness he caught you just before you hit the ground. you have some explaining to do cause he was taken aback, he couldn't grasp what was happening and he was definitely sweating HARD.

" WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING JUMPING OFF THAT RAILING ?! DO YOU WANT TO REALLY KI–" you cut him off by shouting "WHY DID YOU CATCH ME I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE LET ME GO" and that was your last straw as tears flowed out of your eyes like a waterfall and you were sure you were crying like a baby at this point.

Jamil can read the room very well so he sighed and said that you can tell him everything later on and he is sure that it is definitely trauma inducing otherwise you wouldn't have tried to jump off

he know how heartbreaking it would be to see you cry but he wants to let you let go of all the pains and sorrows you have experienced these days.

MALLEUS here has no idea. this man child is learning human emotions because he pretty much grew sheltered so he learns them by looking at you. Things that invoke happy emotions, romantic emotions, sometimes sad emotions but what is this emotion that you're feeling right now?

I feel that he is able to sense emotions that his lover feels. dragon instincts I guess. but while most emotions you feel smelled sweet, strong or sometimes like petrichor..this one smelled like poison ivy. why?

he may be learning but he doubts that those scents were anything but normal. while he did want to ask you about it you would just change the subject. he knew you were hiding something. his instincts are on another level when it comes to you

he sensed that you might be in danger so it's best if he investigated it by himself and not long after did he find blood stained knifes and ropes. he was horrified. to think that the one whom he cherishes so much would be trying to part away from him for eternity, to take away their own life. he can't have you do that. not when he already made up his mind to keep you by himself while he rules.

you made sure to check all your surroundings to see if everything was in place but you failed to notice that one knife was missing which malleus brought out in front of you when you didn't notice him. "[name]...why were you doing this to yourself?..." he was sad and heartbroken. his voice sounded like he was on the verge of crying and so were you. he was the last person you wanted to find out about your...intentions of killing you life...

no matter how much you tried to tell him something your mouth would only open just to close the next moment because you just cannot bring yourself to tell him. you dropped down on the floor telling him that "I just can't do it...I can't deal shit with life...everything around me feels like they are judging me..feel like they will engulf me and no matter what I do I'll just be useless all over again.." he couldn't reciprocate your feelings but he can surely make you feel better. such a person as yourself who stays bright and cheery should not be crying on the floor nor should they feel sorrows. he hugged you close to his chest while he told you that he would listen to everything you want to tell him.

if he can't shield you from sadness and mishaps then how can he call himself a worthy ruler who would protect the people..his people? so he would do anything in his power to make sure you never shed those tears again.

ROOK here knew exactly the moment when you seemed more gloomy and down than usual. you would talk less, eat less, and those eyebags were so prominent that they could be noticed from metres away.

Something is not right...he thought to himself. how could his always cheerful and perfect other half be so under the weather these days. looks like he needs to know about the origin of your sorrows. He is a stubborn one so he is going to and he WILL find out whatever or whoever has cause you pain. He knows for a reason that it's gotta be something from the past looking at how you don't want to tell him and looks like he was right....

he is slowly unfolding your bedsheets, opened your drawers, and investigated your kitchen knife. bigger sorrows usually lead to rash decisions and looks like he was right. he is a master archer and hunter. the smell of blood being too familiar to him to be able to trace the scent in the knife being yours.

he knew that it may be a possibility, but the fact being true makes him feel...crestfallen. how? why? when? all these thoughts raced his mind. he knew your reason for doing these would be even worse and heartbreaking. but he had to confront you and comfort you. so that's when you seeked you out in the middle of the night when you were almost going to drift off to slumber.

"[name]...were you trying to hurt yourself?" your eyes grew wide like saucers. you've never seen rook look so dejected and serious. you told him yes and showed him all the scars that wrapped your body. you felt tears threatening to spill from your eyes and..oh? why do your cheeks feel wet?...

his usual signature smile was now a ghost of itself and he had a frown. he hugged you as tight as possible and let you freely cry all over on his chest. he shushed you softly and told you to tell him everything you went through and let go of those past emotions.

with him here he swears to never let anyone or he himself be the reason of your tears. he can't afford to see his amoureuse stain her beautiful face.

a/n: sometimes you just need to let go of all those who belittled you or trampled over your pitiful self. you should now grow a stronger version of yourself and start your life anew <3

[astro-stars]

leona (derogatory)

None of her friends were surprised, they didn’t think it’d last either. She still felt hurt by him, by the fact that he acts as though she’s not worth the effort. She had known he had a tendency to be lazy if something didn’t directly benefit him,,,,but she didn’t think he’d treat her, his girlfriend, as though she was a waste of energy. She couldn’t understand why he had said that he wanted her when clearly he doesn’t. 

(grenade by Bruno mars started playing whilst I wrote this) 

[twistedblunderhand]

Leona angst?:

I know being at NRC is a choice for Leona, but he really misses/longs for adult friendships/connections. Like, yeah he has friends in NRC, but they’re all minors and he’s 20 and I feel like the fandom forgets that sometimes. It might be part of the reason he’s depressed ((obviously not the sole reason, but it definitely doesn’t help things)). It’s not necessarily bad to be 20 and have friends who are 16/17, but there’s definitely a difference in how those relationships work compared to how adults are friends with each other.

If you’re yuu/canon yuu is around like- 18-24ish, I feel like he’d make some kind of an effort to be friends with them cuz of this and also- Ik Sam in game is like 25 but he’s working all the time and has a life outside NRC, so while I’m sure Leona talks to him some I don’t think they’re really friends

[dipperdc]

At Some Point

Leonax reader

Note: a lot of people liked my last Leona post so have another 👍. Sorry it's so short

At some point you realized he will never love you the same again.

You will never be the one he wants to protect. You will never be the one he looks forward to seeing anymore. He doesn't smile when he sees you like he used to. His eyes don't light up at the meer mention of you. He doesn't even bother treating you the same anymore. He doesn't make an effort to spend extra time with you. He tells you to back off whenever you get remotely close. He rejects your advances. He rejects you.

Now your just stuck remembering all the times you spent together. How he'd wrap his arms around you when you were cold or sad and let you lean into him. How he'd let you go on rants and he would share his deepest thoughts, that he would never share with anyone else. How he'd learn all of your favorite interests just to try and gain skills in them to impress you. How he'd make excuses to be near you and let you fill up all his free time. How'd you go from that to this?

Now your most recent memories were filled with nothing but hurt and racing thoughts. Thoughts on how his face visibly dropped and sullened when you said you loved him. At that point you knew. He fell out of love. And it was to painful to continue this one sided.

You walked up to him like usual to walk to the dorms together. But this time it wasn't excitement to see him on your face. No, it was puffy eyes, trembling lips, and a tear streaked face. Every thought racing in your head made every feeling worse. Your an inconvenience to him, you weigh him down, he could be happy if you just left. All this pressure in your stomach and chest just kept getting worse. Your throat clenched to hold back a cry, yet tears already started streaming down your face.

"what did I do?" Your voice cracked as you spoke.

"what?"

"what did I do for you to not love me anymore?" You words came out wobbly and strained. He blinked at you, surprised. You couldn't even make eye contact, you just sniffled and kept your eyes on the ground.

"I'm sorry, for whatever I did. But please, baby, please. If you don't love me, say that." Were you really gonna beg for him?

"I'm sorry, I just don't see you the same anymore"

Fuck, you knew he didn't love you anymore but hearing him say it out loud was torture. You didn't realize it but your breathing was a lot harder and faster. You knees felt weak. So many thoughts and feelings rushed through you. It felt like withdrawal.

"was it something I did?" You held back a sob.

"No, it's just you. I don't love who you are or what you could be anymore". With that he just walked away.

[haru-natsuka]

Hello! I'm a big fan of your First Step Leona Fanfic. I wanted to ask if you could possibly make a part 2 to it? Like they wake up and Reader is just in shock of what happened. It doesn't have to go like that and you can reject this but I wanted to ask. Thank you for your time!

Yesss, I will do part 2 for this one and using The Lion King storyline as my guide. In Twisted Wonderland the main character would be the villain after all so let's give them theirs right. Give me 2 months though to prepare

[lotuswish]

𑁍ࠬܓ how they react when they see you hurt (housewardens & jamil)

synopsis: pain is not something he ever wanted to associate with you. but seeing you injured—knowing someone dared to harm you—shatters his composure. for some, it’s rage; for others, panic. and for a few, it’s cold, terrifying control—until he knows you’re safe. but one thing is certain: someone will pay for this.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): angst, mentions of violence and implied revenge, mild injury descriptions (ex. bruises, wounds, pain etc.), spoilers for book 6 in idia’s part.

a/n: they’re just being silly, guys. <3

link(s): (masterlist)

riddle rosehearts

riddle prides himself on maintaining control.

his entire life has been shaped by discipline, by structure, by the belief that emotions must be ruled by logic. he does not allow himself to be reckless, does not allow himself to be overcome. everything he does is precise, calculated, deliberate.

but the moment he sees you hurt—

everything unravels.

his breath catches in his throat, his heart slamming against his ribs, his mind instantly abandoning all reason. his entire world sharpens to a singular point—you—and all at once, every ounce of restraint he’s spent years perfecting is hanging by a fragile, fraying thread.

“who did this?”

his voice is sharper than you’ve ever heard it, trembling with something raw, something dangerously close to rage.

he’s beside you in an instant, dropping to his knees without hesitation, his hands hovering—not touching, not yet, because what if he makes it worse? what if he hurts you somehow? his fingers tremble, itching to reach out, to make sure—

“tell me where it hurts,” he says, but his voice wavers. “tell me what happened.”

his hands are gentle but firm as he checks you over, his usually practiced movements clumsy with the weight of panic. he doesn’t even realize his breathing is uneven, doesn’t even notice the way his shoulders are shaking as he looks you over, as he takes in every bruise, every wound, every sign that something happened—

something he didn’t prevent.

“you should have been more careful,” he scolds, but the words come out thin, forced, like he’s trying to hold something else back.

you try to tell him you’re fine, try to brush it off, but he doesn’t believe you. his eyes flicker with frustration, his jaw tightening, his grip on your wrist just a fraction too tense.

“don’t be ridiculous—you’re hurt,” he snaps, and then immediately exhales, forcing himself to breathe. “just… stay still. let me handle this.”

he refuses to let you wave it away. refuses to leave it alone. you are not fine, and he will not let you convince him otherwise.

but even as he focuses on making sure you’re okay, something else burns at the edges of his mind, pressing against his temples like an unbearable weight—

who did this to you?

his hands clench into fists. his breathing evens out, but his posture remains rigid, coiled tight like a string about to snap.

because once you’re safe—once he’s certain that you’re okay, that you’ll recover, that he didn’t fail you—

then, and only then, will he deal with the one responsible.

his mother may have taught him restraint, but some things are unforgivable.

and hurting you is one of them.

leona kingscholar

danger.

his body registers it before his mind does, his instincts kicking in the moment his eyes land on you—hurt, vulnerable, not okay.

his vision tunnels, his pulse spikes, and suddenly, the world around him doesn’t matter anymore.

“what the hell happened?”

his voice is a low, guttural growl, thick with something dark, something uncontrollable. his hands clench at his sides, every muscle coiled, his body ready—ready to fight, ready to destroy, ready to eliminate whatever put you in this state.

but then he sees it—sees the way you’re holding yourself, the way your breath hitches, the way you flinch just slightly—and suddenly, the anger has to be forced down, swallowed like bile in the back of his throat.

because right now, you come first.

so he moves, closing the distance in a single step, his hands reaching for you before he can stop himself. his hands are gentle from the start, unusually so. these hands of his are capable of devastation, of turning flesh to dust, of summoning ruin with a mere touch. but against you, they are careful, restrained. the second he feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the tension in his hold eases, his hands softening, steadying you instead of breaking you.

“who did this?”

his voice is still dangerous, still thick with that barely restrained fury, but now there’s something else underneath it.

concern.

fear.

he hates how it makes his chest tighten. hates the way it lingers at the edges of his thoughts, nagging at him, clawing at something buried deep beneath his usual indifference.

he kneels in front of you, his sharp, emerald eyes scanning every inch of you with terrifying intensity. his fingers ghost over your injuries, his jaw clenched so tight you can hear his teeth grind together.

“tell me.” his voice is dangerous now.

and then—when you hesitate, when you try to brush it off, when you lie—

his patience snaps.

“don’t give me that.” his grip tightens just slightly, his expression darkening. “you’re hurt. don’t act like it’s nothing.”

there’s no room for argument in his tone. no patience for your stubbornness, no willingness to accept anything less than the truth.

if you try to keep it from him, if you refuse to say who’s responsible, then fine—he’ll find out himself.

because someone did this.

and once you’re safe—once he’s sure you’re okay, once he’s made damn sure you’ll recover—

then he’s hunting.

“stay here,” he mutters, standing to his full height, his tail flicking behind him in barely restrained aggression. “i’ll take care of it.”

and if you try to stop him?

his gaze flickers down to you, something sharp, something scorching, like the unrelenting heat of the desert sun at its peak—blistering, unforgiving, merciless.

“no one lays a damn hand on you and gets away with it.”

and then he’s gone, a storm of unbridled wrath, a lion on the hunt.

azul ashengrotto

azul is a man of careful calculations.

every word, every action, every decision he makes is deliberate. he has spent years crafting a persona of charm, wit, and effortless composure—one that allows him to stay in control, no matter the circumstances. he does not flinch, does not waver, does not lose to uncertainty.

but then he sees you hurt.

and suddenly, all of that control is gone.

his breath catches, his body locks up, and for one horrifying moment, his mind is utterly blank.

“you—what happened?”

his voice doesn’t sound like his own. it’s too sharp, too raw, lacking the usual smoothness he prides himself on.

he rushes to you without thinking, but the second he’s close enough to touch, he hesitates. his fingers hover inches above your skin, his knuckles white with the force of his restraint. his mind is screaming at him to act, to do something, but a terrible thought wedges itself into his panic—

what if i make it worse?

he doesn’t trust his own hands, doesn’t trust his own judgment, not when the sight of you like this is unraveling him from the inside out.

“tell me what hurts,” he demands, his words tumbling out in a way that’s almost frantic. “is it serious? how bad is it?”

his thoughts spiral immediately, jumping to the worst possible conclusions. is it critical? should he be calling for medical attention? what if you’re downplaying it? what if he’s not fast enough?

and then you try to brush it off.

“nothing?” he echoes, breath hitching. his voice almost cracks—and he hates that. “how can you say that when you’re—when you—”

his hands clench into fists, shaking slightly as he forces himself to breathe.

“just—just stay still,” he mutters, voice tight with strain. “i’ll take care of it.”

because if there is one thing he knows, one thing he can control, it’s fixing things. making deals. offering solutions.

“i’ll call a healer. i’ll get whatever you need—whatever you want.”

his words come too fast, his mind still racing, but through it all, his hands never leave yours.

his grip is too tight, fingers wrapped around yours like a lifeline, like letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to consider.

because if he lets go—if he loses you—

he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it.

and when it’s over—when he knows you’ll be okay—he still doesn’t let you out of his sight.

“you scared me,” he murmurs, quieter than before.

his voice is steadier now, but you can still hear the remnants of his fear, lingering in the way his thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckles, in the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath this entire time.

and for the first time since you’ve met him—since he built the persona of azul ashengrotto, the untouchable businessman, the man always one step ahead—

he lets you see just how fragile he becomes when it comes to you.

kalim al-asim

kalim is always smiling.

he is a beacon of joy, a burst of light in every room he enters. when things go wrong, he looks for the silver lining. when people are hurting, he lifts them up with his boundless energy. sadness is something he refuses to dwell on, something he fights against with warmth and laughter.

but when he sees you hurt?

his entire world stops.

“oh no, oh no—”

the words leave him before he can think, his breath catching as his heart lurches in his chest. he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause to process what he’s seeing—his body moves, fast and instinctive, rushing to your side.

his hands cradle your face, warm and steady despite the frantic tremor in his touch.

“are you okay? what happened? does it hurt? how bad is it?”

his voice is shaking. he’s shaking.

and when he finally really looks at you, when he takes in the way you wince, the way you hold yourself like you’re trying to hide the pain—his chest tightens, his stomach twisting into something awful.

“why didn’t anyone stop it? why didn’t i stop it?”

guilt. overwhelming, suffocating guilt floods him like a tidal wave.

“i should’ve been there! i should’ve protected you!”

his grip on you tightens—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s here. he isn’t letting go. he won’t let go.

and then, before you can stop him—before you can tell him it’s not a big deal—his eyes start to glisten.

“kalim, are you—”

“i’m not crying!” he absolutely is. “i just—you scared me!”

his voice wobbles, and suddenly, he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“don’t move, okay? just stay right here! i’ll get someone to help—i’ll fix this, i promise!”

if it’s something small—just a minor scrape, a bruise—he still treats it like it’s life-threatening. he refuses to let you walk it off, refuses to let you act like it’s fine.

if it’s something worse? if you are seriously hurt?

he panics, but his movements are certain. without hesitation, he lifts you into his arms, holding you to his chest like you’re something precious, like you belong nowhere else but safe in his hands.

“i’ve got you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

and when he finally gets you to safety, when he finally knows you’re okay—

he still won’t stop fussing.

“you need to rest! do you want pillows? i’ll get you pillows! or tea! do you want tea? i’m sure jamil will—jamil! we need tea!”

“kalim, i’m fine—”

“no, you’re not fine! i was so scared!”

his fingers squeeze yours.

and later, when you’re patched up, when the worst of the moment has passed—

he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes.

“don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is softer now, the usual excitement dimmed into something deeply sincere.

“i don’t ever wanna see you hurt again.”

jamil viper

jamil was raised to handle crises.

he has spent his entire life being the one who steps in when things go wrong, the one who fixes things while everyone else panics. no matter the situation, no matter the chaos, no matter the pressure—he is always in control.

so when he sees you hurt, when he registers the way you’re holding yourself, the way your face twists with pain—

his stomach drops.

but his body moves on instinct.

“where?”

his voice is steady. too steady. his mind is screaming, but his tone doesn’t waver, his movements are calculated, precise. he crouches in front of you immediately, eyes scanning you with sharp, assessing precision.

“how bad is it? let me see.”

he doesn’t waste time. doesn’t ask what happened—not yet. because right now, the only thing that matters is making sure you’re okay.

his hands are warm but firm, brushing over you carefully as he checks for injuries. his fingers ghost over your wrist, your arm, the side of your face—everywhere that might be hurt—his touch gentle but filled with purpose.

“it’s not broken,” he murmurs under his breath, half to himself, half to reassure you. “no major swelling… does this hurt?”

and then—when you flinch, when you let out the softest hiss of pain—

something inside him snaps.

his jaw clenches. his breathing slows.

“who.”

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for the first time, there is something dangerous in his gaze.

“who did this?”

if there is a culprit—if someone is responsible for this—then they are not leaving unscathed.

but even as fury thrums through his veins, even as his mind races with ways to handle the situation, he forces himself to prioritize you first.

“can you walk?” his voice is softer now, his tone slipping back into something controlled, something measured.

if you say yes, he doesn’t let you prove it. he supports you immediately, one arm around your waist, guiding you effortlessly as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

if you say no, he lifts you without hesitation. no warning, no asking—just picking you up, his hold secure, unshakable.

“don’t argue,” he mutters, barely sparing you a glance. “just let me take care of it.”

because he will.

and once he gets you somewhere safe, once he’s made sure you’re being treated properly, once he knows with certainty that you are okay—

then, and only then, does he allow himself to breathe.

“you’re reckless,” he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and something far too raw. “i don’t have time to deal with this every time you get yourself hurt, you know.”

but his fingers tighten just slightly where they rest against your arm, betraying the truth behind his words.

because if something had happened—if things had been worse—

he doesn’t even want to think about what he would have done.

vil schoenheit

perfection is vil’s standard.

not just in beauty, not just in his work, but in everything—his composure, his discipline, the way he carries himself. he does not allow himself to be reckless. he does not make careless mistakes. he does not let emotions rule him.

but then he sees you hurt.

and something inside him fractures.

his lips press together, his expression unreadable, his body rigid—the only betrayal of the storm brewing beneath his flawless exterior is the way his fingers tighten just slightly at his sides, the way his breath is a fraction too controlled.

“where are you hurt?”

his voice is steady. cold. clinical. but his eyes—his eyes—

they burn.

he crosses the distance between you in two strides, his gloved fingers already reaching for you. his touch is firm but delicate, brushing over your skin with the kind of precision only someone like him could possess.

“sit down.” it’s not a request. “don’t move until i’ve assessed the damage.”

you try to downplay it, try to insist that it’s nothing, but his sharp gaze cuts through you instantly.

“do not insult me by pretending this is fine,” he snaps, his voice sharp as glass. “you are hurt. i can see it. so let me handle it.”

his fingers ghost over your injuries, his touch meticulous, searching. he catalogues everything—the severity, the placement, the way you react when he presses too close.

he is silent as he works, but the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes.

“this never should have happened.” the words slip out low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind them is undeniable. “i should have—”

but he cuts himself off before he finishes the thought.

vil schoenheit does not dwell in should haves.

he fixes things. he prevents disasters before they happen.

but right now, all he can do is make sure you are okay.

“i’ll handle this,” he says smoothly, already preparing to tend to your wounds himself. “stay still.”

his movements are precise, every action perfectly executed—cleaning, bandaging, ensuring no imperfections remain. but his touch lingers just slightly longer than necessary, his fingers brushing over your wrist, your palm, the curve of your shoulder with a tenderness that is almost imperceptible.

and when it’s over—when you are properly cared for, when the worst of the moment has passed—he finally exhales.

“you worried me,” he murmurs, and it is softer now, less controlled, less rehearsed.

and then—just for a second—his fingers ghost against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.

“i won’t let this happen again. not ever.”

his voice is gentle. his eyes are not.

because if anyone had a hand in this—if someone is responsible for this pain—

then they will regret ever daring to touch you.

idia shroud

idia doesn’t do well under pressure.

he was not built for high-stakes situations, for stress, for emotions so raw they leave no room for second chances. he hates unpredictability, hates chaos, hates not knowing what to do.

so when he sees you hurt—

his mind shuts down.

for a full second, he just stares, his breath caught somewhere in his throat, his fingers twitching but unable to move.

no, no, no, no, no—

his brain latches onto the worst possibilities immediately. how bad is it? is it fatal? what if you’re bleeding out? what if it’s internal? what if he doesn’t react fast enough?

what if he loses you?

his stomach twists violently, a familiar, awful panic rising in his throat, threatening to choke him.

because this—this exact fear—is something he’s lived through before.

he remembers the first time. the real first time.

losing ortho was something he never saw coming. something he never thought could happen. and even though he’s built him again, recreated him, brought back a version of his little brother—

he still remembers.

remembers what it felt like to be too late. to fail someone he loved. to stand there, frozen in horror, helpless to stop it.

and now—

now it’s you.

you, the only person who matters to him besides ortho. you, the person who understands him, who stays, who chooses him despite all the reasons not to. you, who has somehow become his entire world without him even realizing it.

“oh seven—okay, okay—don’t freak out—no, wait, i’m the one freaking out—”

he rushes toward you but stops short, his hands hovering inches away, shaking.

“w-wait, should i touch you? would that make it worse?? oh seven, what if i make it worse—”

his mind is short-circuiting. too many variables. too many possible failures.

“idia,” you start, but he whirls on you, wide-eyed and frantic.

“y-you have to tell me exactly how bad it is, okay? give me a numerical rating—no, no, wait, i don’t trust the pain scale, um—can you move?? do you need a doctor??”

his breathing is erratic, his fingers clutching at the edge of his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

but then—just like before—you try to reassure him.

“i’m okay.”

he stops.

his whole body locks up, his mind struggling to catch up.

”…are you sure?”

his voice is so small. so uncertain.

because he’s already lost someone before.

and if he lost you too—if this was his fault, if he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, good enough—

he doesn’t know what he would do.

even when he’s finally convinced that you’re not dying, he still refuses to leave your side. he hovers awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, clearly itching to do something to make himself useful.

so he does what he knows best—

“d-do you wanna lay down? i, uh, set up a recovery station in my room. blankets. snacks. medkits—y’know, just in case. w-we can watch something comforting, i won’t even complain about the genre. promise.”

his voice is still wobbly, still slightly frayed at the edges, but the tension in his shoulders finally eases when you nod.

and later—when you’re safe, resting, and no longer in pain—

his fingers brush against yours, hesitant, unsure, before finally intertwining them properly.

“never scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is quiet. but this time, it doesn’t shake.

because he won’t lose you too.

he can’t.

malleus draconia

malleus has lived longer than most.

a century and more has passed since his birth. he has seen generations rise and fall, watched mortals grow old in the blink of an eye. nothing unsettles him. nothing disturbs his calm.

but then he sees you hurt.

and the entire world stands still.

his breath halts, and the air around him shifts—the very atmosphere bending beneath the weight of something primordial, something as vast and unrelenting as the storm-laden skies over the land of briar.

his first instinct is not panic.

it is rage.

“who did this?”

his voice is low, steady, but beneath the surface, something dangerous lurks.

his emerald eyes gleam, faintly glowing in the dim light. the shadows stretch taller, the wind outside stills, the very earth itself seems to pause, as if the land itself knows what kind of wrath is building within him.

his hands twitch at his sides, claws curling, magic crackling faintly at his fingertips—not for you, never for you, but for whoever was foolish enough to harm you.

but he stops himself. forces himself to breathe.

because you come first.

he is in front of you in an instant, his movements as fluid as shadow, his expression unreadable. his hands—hands that could command storms, reduce castles to rubble, shatter the very sky—reach for you with an almost unnatural gentleness.

“let me see,” he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your injury, tracing the bruises, the cuts, the places where pain lingers.

his touch is featherlight, his movements precise, but beneath it all, his body is rigid with barely restrained fury.

“who did this?” he repeats, quieter now, but infinitely more terrifying.

if you don’t answer, if you try to downplay it, if you lie—

his gaze darkens, something thunderous in his silence.

“do not shield them from me.”

he is not so easily deceived. he sees the hesitation in your eyes, the way you waver, the way you avoid his gaze. if you refuse to tell him, it does not matter—he will find out on his own.

but first—

“hold still,” he murmurs, raising his hand.

a pulse of magic hums through the air, a whisper of ancient power curling around your form like a protective shroud. the ache dulls, the wounds begin to close, the pain fades.

“better?” he asks, softer now, something tender hidden beneath the weight of his fury.

but even as he tends to you, even as he ensures you are safe—

his mind is already elsewhere.

because someone hurt you.

and for that, there will be consequences.

malleus does not act rashly. he does not lash out blindly.

but the guilty party will know fear.

“stay here,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek for just a fraction of a second, his touch lingering. “rest. recover.”

and then, as he turns, the air thickens, the weight of his presence pressing down like the hush before a storm, like the crackling stillness before lightning splits the sky.

because someone has made a grave mistake.

and if the gods are watching, they would be wise to offer their mercy—because malleus draconia will not.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[reinbouxsworld]

twisted wonderland × kimetsu no yaiba (au!)

based on this post here.

I this this on a a japanese song only playlist and a wave of hiperfixation. So heres the context: Yuno (Yuu) and Leona were newly married and lived on his family’s land. On the night after the Town Below festival, Yuno returned home to find not only her husband’s family dead but also her younger brother, Grimm. Leona was the only one still alive, but as she tried to lead him down the mountain, she discovered that he was no longer human.

Silver, a demon slayer, confronted Leona. However, after witnessing him protect Yuno, he chose to spare the newly turned demon’s life, and send the couple to his master, Lilia.

Vil and Rook are the Tamayo and Yuuchiro of this universe. Vil lived more than 300 years only on serving face and hate, nonetheless showed kindness by helping Yuno and Leona after their encounter with the Demon King.

Ace and deuce are both slayers, one ranking above yuu. The three met during a mission, and the two decided to stick by her side from that point on.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

The Rain is Especially Loud Tonight

Synopsis: The Prefect gets hurt due to Crowley's negligence.

TW: Injury, Stitches, Medical Stuff, Prefect gets caught under a collapsed Ramshackle

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 (coming soon), . . .

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The room would be completely silent were it not for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The environment was more comfortable than your usual medical setting, but it still felt cold in a way.

The door creaked open and in stepped professor Crewel. "Hey, Pup." His voice lacked its usual stern tone one would hear in the classroom; instead, his voice was gentle and almost hoarse.

The hoarseness was no doubt a result of him screaming at the headmage in a roar you shiver even recalling. He had spent hours tearing into the man for his gross negligence and irresponsibility.

"Pup?" His voice became more worried when you failed to answer.

"Sorry." A meek, rasped voice leaves you throat. Your throat burns with dryness despite the 6 glasses of water you already drank, and it feels like every syllable echoes through your head and causes an intense, throbbing pain. You don't recognize the voice that claws its way out of your throat as your own.

You hear the soft scrape of a chair on the floor next to your bed. "No. Don't apologize, Pup." Rocking your gaze slowly over to him its clear to you, with the way his jaw clenches and unclenches while his eyes search the blanket covering you, that he wants to say something, but isn't sure what.

You slowly rock your head to look forward again. "Everyone's been in such a panic. . .and it's my fault, I-"

The man cuts you off as you choke on your words: "Pup. This is not your fault."

"But-" Your throat feels like its been given a massage with a thousand razor blades. The coughing your attempts to speak cause only make the pain worse.

Crewel quickly grabs another glass of water and holds it up to your lips for you to drink. "But nothing, Pup- Keep those arms down or you'll re-open the wounds. That old building was bound to collapse at some point. We all knew it. If the fault is on anyone it's on us staff. Crowley made you stay there, and we didn't stop him." The glass cup clinks slightly too harshly onto the nightstand as he sets it down.

Silence falls between the two of you.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The ticking of the clock numbs your thoughts. You force your mind to stop focusing on the pain radiating from every inch of your body and instead listen to the steady ticking of the clock. The only other sound that can be herd is the occasional hurried footsteps outside the door as the other staff do their best to take care of the situation.

Your injuries have already been treated by a specialty team sent from STYX the moment the news got to them. They were the only ones aside from Grim, Leona, and the staff that had seen your mangled form before you were wrapped up like a mummy. You didn't have to ask how bad it was. Seeing Crowley throw up at the sight of you was enough to tell you it was bad.

The STYX team had spent nearly a whole 24 hours stitching you back together like some ragdoll and rearranging the many pieces of you that had been ripped and jostled out of place. If not for them. . .well, you don't want to think about it. If you looked like a mummy on the outside, you were sure that under the bandages you looked like Frankenstein's monster. There really wasn't a single bit of you that got out of that death trap unscathed.

You were kept in the school infirmary instead of being carted off to some high-tech STYX facility only because they needed to operate on you as soon as possible and didn't want to move you too much after the initial procedures. They made do by shipping a ton (literally speaking, more like 3 tons) of medical equipment to the school, most of which was now littered around the infirmary in a rushed yet professional way.

Despite your closeness to your friends, the only people who had come to see you were the staff. It's not that none of your friends wanted to see you, but that they weren't allowed to. The doctor's worried having them in so soon, when they were still full of hysteria from the news, wouldn't be the best idea. They weren't able to text you either as your phone had been crushed in the collapse.

"How's Grim?"

Professor Crewel hums: "Physically, he's pretty unscathed. He just has a few scrapes and bruises. Mentally, he's a bit traumatized."

You supposed that made sense. You didn't remember much, but what you did remember was Grim's voice. He had been returning to the dorm from after school detention when he found the building in shambles on the ground. He called out to you but your lungs were filled with debris and your torso was being crushed by layers of rubble. The dorm ghosts met Grim at the edge of the junk pile that used to be a dorm and confirmed that you were inside and that you needed help. The ghosts talked to you as you laid there, not being able to physically move anything off you themselves. They kept you awake and assured you that Grim was getting help.

Not long later you heard shouting. Two of the ghosts stayed with you while the third went out to meet the staff and fill them in. You were told after the fact that that's about the time they called up Leona to use his unique magic so they could get you out as soon as possible (that was the first time many saw the lion run).

You were blanking in and out of consciousness when they found you, but you remember them finding you. The feeling of the weight of the rubble lessening as it was methodically turned to sand and removed (in order to not end up crushing you with sand instead), the small grains dripping on your face, and eventually, the full force of the pouring rain battering your face as the last of the rubble was removed from above you. You remember Leona's manic eyes turning horrified, Crowley puking, and worst of all, Grim's face.

"STYX sent over a few trauma counselors. There are ones assigned specifically to Leona and Grim as well since they saw some of the worst of it." Crewel finally broke the silence again.

"And you? You and. . .the other teachers were there too. . .and Sam."

"Calm down, Pup. We've all had evaluations done to assess how we're handling it. We'll be fine.

"What about. . ." Your voice trails off, but from the look in your eyes, Crewel can tell what you were about to ask.

"What about the headmage?"

You nod, wincing slightly when the motion disturbs an injury on your neck.

"He's under investigation." Crewel responds after a brief pause. He knew that you surely couldn't be all that fond of the crow, but as you saw it, he was probably also your only ticket home. Crewel looked up to gauge your response, but your face remained neutral.

"And you, Pup? I obviously know you aren't doing particularly well physically right now, but what about mentally?"

"Hm?"

Crewel hesitated, not wanting to dig around in a mental wound and make it worse, "You were. . .under there for a while. I'm sure it must've been. . .scary."

You think for a moment before responding: "Was I really under there that long? It didn't feel like it. . .I think I passed out a few times." Your mumbled words put Crewel at ease in a way. He's not happy that you had been passing out, but he was at least glad that you weren't stuck under there fully conscious and feeling every second tick by as if it were an hour.

"Hmm. I see." Crewel nods. "I ought to let you rest now. A counselor will stop by tomorrow to talk to you about what happened." He stands up as he says this, his knuckles still white from how tightly he'd been gripping the fabric of his pants. "Rest well, Pup."

You simply nod, this time more carefully as to not disturb your wounds, and watch him walk out. When the door closes you swear you hear a choked sob.

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[nemisisnemi]

here's the unfinished animatic i worked on for a long time, hope u guys enjoy!

unfortunately my apple pencil decided to stop working after 5 years so i cant finish it :(

[inuiiwonderland]

Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Possible Au??

Words: 1.5k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

-

One thing you hated since you were young was tradition. Being told that you can’t do things your way because it wasn’t “appropriate” or “right”. The day you were crowned as empress of Yuunkaedangon, you were only 17 years old. There was a huge celebration that day that lasted 4 days.

It was fun at first. Being in control, power, money, respect, especially at a young age. But soon after, it started becoming…rather a bit boring and annoying. The higher ups wouldn’t stop nagging you about what your next big step is. Most importantly, when are you going to start your harem?

You scoff at the idea. You just turned 18 and they are already asking -demanding- about possible lovers and heirs?

How annoying

Now your kingdom isn't shy when it comes to polygamy. Past ancestors are known for having the biggest harem any kingdom has had.(lots and lots of kids…). And you weren’t opposed to the idea either but you just didn’t feel like starting one now.

But it was only a matter of time of how much you can endure before you crack.

Which brings you here

The Roseheart family

Mrs. Roseheart stands before you with a deep bow. She presents you her son, Riddle Roseheart. He stands gracefully beside his mother.

Not bad

Riddle is definitely an attractive boy, but you really don’t care about having a consort at the moment.

Why can’t those annoying vassals leave you alone?

But the way Mrs. Roseheart dug her fingers into the boys shoulder after noticing your lack of interest. You can see the fear in the boy's eyes.

Interesting

With a heavy sigh, you accept him.

Mrs. Roseheart smiles before bowing before you. You stared them down from your gold throne. Not missing the relief on the boy's face.

That night Mrs . Roseheart leaves but not before whispering something in the boy's ear which causes him to nod. He turns to you, a little shy to be left alone with you now.

“Don’t worry, in here you are safe” You tell him. He stills for a moment. Processing your words in his head before he nods.

-

Having him by your side wasn’t bad. You were actually grateful for having someone intelligent and knowledgeable like him by your side. He has been a huge help to you when you are stuck with something regarding the kingdom. Now this isn’t to say you were dumb, you are actually a very intelligent and strong kid since you were young. You were taught great etiquette lessons, sword practice, literature, educated in arts, etc.

which made your father very proud.

But sometimes with all the vassal nagging at you every second that you breathed, kills your brain cells. Literally.

So having riddle is such a relief and a blessing. Though you won’t say that he’s a little…dedicated to his duties.

You were tired and agitated after another day of dealing with your vassals and their obsession with you having a heir.

Jeez, can they give you a break?

The moment you opened your door chambers you nearly went into cardiac arrest upon seeing Riddle on your bed with nothing but a robe.

You quickly turned around and asked him what he was doing. The boy was confused and also a little embarrassed before saying that as his duty as a consort, it’s his responsibility to give you an heir.

Sevens what’s with people and heirs?!

You sigh before telling him in the sweetest tone that he doesn’t have to do that. The both of you are still young and you don’t want to pressure him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. He tries to reason with you but you still refuse. It isn’t because he’s not attractive, which was his first thought and you quickly reassured him that wasn’t the case.

But you can also tell this is something his mother wanted him to do. So you told him that it wasn’t necessary. When he brings up the vassals and their demands for an heir, you tell him not to worry about them.

They aren’t important anyways

Before he could say anything, you give him a small kiss on his head before sending him off to his chamber.

You attended a ceremony, and if you’re being honest, you dont know whose it is or what it’s about. (It’s literally held in your palace and it’s for you)

You watch as different men and women flaunt at you in hopes of being picked. You can see in the corner of your eye riddle getting a little jealous.

How cute

You took a sip of your wine as you watched people dance and joke in laughter. Riddle sits by your side, enjoying a delicious tart made by one of your many favorite bakers. (The clovers will always get it right every time) your eyes roamed lazily through the crowd of people before halting at the sight of the kingsholar family.

The Sunset Savanna royals

The king and queens faces light up at the sight of you. They make their way towards you and riddle and you quickly down the rest of your wine. The three of you talk, politics, land, everything you can think of. Now the kingsholar are angels really but you weren’t really in the mood to talk. You nod along to whatever the king was saying and even smile or laugh here and there after he says something remotely funny.

As you and the king chatted, while his wife and riddle talked about how his life in the palace is, your attention shifts to the figure standing all alone in a corner. Sipping wine as a scowl is permanently attached to his face.

“And- oh?” He follows your gaze before chuckling.

“That’s my younger brother. Leona kingsholar! Wanna meet him?” And before anything could leave your mouth the man called him over. Leona scowls deeper at the call of his name, he downs his cup before beginning to walk to where the four of you are.

“Leona! Meet the empress of Yuunkaedangon! Empress, this is my younger brother and the second born prince of sunset savanna, Leona” you gave him a greeting as he did the same.

Now you have heard about the second prince of the sunset savanna, but you never saw what he looks like. After all, the second born prince rarely leaves his room, according to rumors and news.

And boy oh boy. you won’t lie, he’s a very beautiful man

“Ah! So me and my wife have heard about the beginning of your new…harem!” You froze. The glass of delicious tasty wine rested on the tip of your tongue at the king's words.

Don’t tell me

You lowered your cup. A wide smile spreads across your lips before asking him where he is going with this.

“Guess you caught on. Well, my brother has been having a little trouble I suppose, on finding a wife…or any girl really- and so I thought it would be a wonderful idea if you allowed him to join you and your harem” Oh he was serious.

Both Leona and riddle froze. Leona obviously had not a single clue that his brother was basically selling him out to you. (His words)

The king waited patiently for your response, while Riddle anxiously waited for your answer.

“And is Leona okay with this?” You ask. You didn’t want to force this man in your harem and make him think he doesn’t have a choice! The king blinks, not expecting you to ask him that. He then turns to the younger prince of Sunset Savanna and asks him.

“Well? Are you up for it?” Now everyone's attention was on Leona. He stays silent for a moment, thinking. You waited patiently for his answer. Leona eyes flicker down to see you gently caressing riddles hand that was wrapped around your arm. He can tell that you are really gentle with the redhead.

He scoffs before looking away.

“I don’t care”

“Excellent!” The king cheers. You look to meet Leona’s emerald green eyes. Kinda asking him if he was truly okay with it.

After all, eyes never lie.

-

The night the vassals heard about your new addition to your harem, they grew excited. For what reason? You don’t know. Something about sunset savanna now becoming new allies for the Yuunkaedangon empire and more land, trades, possible heirs (they whispered that part).

You brushed through Leona brown locks. He was looking at the new collection of hair pins, accessories, jewelry, and combs that you have bought for him upon his arrival. Riddle was sitting down on one of your many fluffy and comfortable chairs as he read a book.

You love how peaceful and soothing this moment felt. Leona's eyes were closed as he let you play and mess around with his hair. As much as he likes to act like he doesn’t like it, he loves the way your hands run and play through his hair. Your touch was soft and gentle. That’s what he first noticed when moved in. You were gentle.

You never raised your voice, hand, or did anything that would seem harmful to him or riddle. He’s obviously heard countless stories about emperors/ empresses treating their consorts/concubines terribly. But you…you aren’t like that.

He likes it

How gentle you are

But there’s no way in hell he’ll ever tell you that.

Nuh uh!

For now, he’ll enjoy your presence silently.

-

Riddle and Leona for now. I don’t know if I should do it as dormleaders ONLY or overblot characters (Jamil or Kalim, IDK HELP ME PICK)

Good night!👍🏻

[82lead]

I’m still trying to find my apology speech

*click for better quality* [ ⚠️ Do not Repost without Credit || Likes and reblogs are welcomed ✅️ ]

[egophiliac]

Please elaborate on your twst Pokémon headcannons I’m very interested

I had planned on drawing everyone for this (I made a LIST!) but it. hasn't been going well. 💀 soooo here's what I have so far!

Riddle - Roserade (I was going with 'no legendaries', otherwise I would've given him a Shaymin) (and I don't think Togedemaru is actually a hedgehog or I would've given him one of those too) (...they kind of do fit though. hmm.)

Trey - Alcremie (clover/mint cream + strawberry/ruby cream)

Cater - DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD!

Ace - Impidimp (I feel like there's probably a better one for him, but I can't think of it)

Deuce - Scraggy (meanwhile I KNOW deep in my heart that this is true)

Leona - Pyroar (but like. a nasty Pyroar. just a grizzly old Pyroar with the shittiest attitude imaginable. they pretend to hate each other but secretly they are a bonded pair, do not separate)

[marisashinx]

Azul: "It's gone. My carefully amassed collection of magic... My omnipotent power... "

Leona: "🫵😂"