#neige x vil

[jessamine-rose]

I applaud you for making the best yandere Neige hcs on this site! To make things more dramatic, may I reccomend Leona x Vil? Why? Because their two sides of the same coin & bicker like an old married couple. Imagine Vil being in a secret relationship HEALTHY with Leona while dealing with stalker Neige. Imagine Neige catching that he's lost to Leona of all people. How far would he go? How delusional would he get? Better yet when he ultimately loses (think Gomez vs Garrett from Wednesday)

Yandere! Neige x Vil ๑ The Full Saga

Tw:: yandere, obsessive behavior

Aww thanks, Anonie!! This was a fun series to write, and I'm happy to know that y’all enjoy it to this day. And ohh LeoVil!! That would make things much harder for Neige, given Leona’s physical power and political status~

Neige would be heartbroken.

What was supposed to be a magical confession shattered when he stalked followed Vil to his dressing room, only to find his crush in the arms of another prince. Even worse, this had been foreshadowed for months.

Phone calls. Foreign accessories. Photos of Vil in the Sunset Savannah. Familiarity masked by banter and insults. Leona’s visits to their movie set—and wasn’t it Vil who recruited him as the consultant for their Catch the Tail scenes, after he initially rejected the director’s request?

But why Leona Kingscholar? Sure, their relationship follows a few tropes but they only met in NRC!! Neige has known Vil since childhood. He is his equal onstage. He can support Vil’s career in ways Leona never could.

His thoughts are interrupted by a kiss. It isn’t anything like Neige’s kisses with Vil—scripted, professional, abruptly finished along with the movie scene. This one is off-screen, passionate, genuine. Vil is reciprocating Leona’s touches. Vil isn’t caring about lipstick smears. Vii-kun is being defiled—

Green eyes make contact with Neige’s.

Leona doesn’t break off the kiss. But his ears twitch, his tail flicks in annoyance, and his arms wrap around Vil in a tighter embrace. His glare remains fixed on the gap in the doorway, conveying an unspoken message to Neige.

A warning from a true prince.

♡

Thanks for the delicious idea, Anonie!! I also ship LeoVil but I never thought of adding that to this series. I stopped accepting asks for my Yandere! Neige x Vil saga a long time ago, but I might just reconsider it thanks to you >:3

Tag a NeigeVil shipper!! @shoujolover-666 @wildnya @yanmaresu

[vegaly-art]

UPDATE UPDATE I AM NOT DEAD I HAVE JUST BEEN DRAWING GENSHIN FANART INSTEAD OF TWST AND SO HAVE NOT POSTED IT ON HERE. I may start posting my art generally on here in due time but idk :P I shall see.

[msmrmoony]

sketches from last year

I am determined to redraw most of them lol

Well one of the sketches is done but eh it doesn't look good and it didn't perform well on twt (0likes)

[liliavanrougelover]

Every universe

Summary: You ask the TWST boys if you're soulmates in every universe. This is their response.

Characters: All NRC (+ Che'nya, Neige) (Platonic Ortho, obvi)

A/N: guess who's learning to ✨drive✨?

Riddle Rosehearts:

He glances up at you from his desk in confusion.You’re simply laying on his bed and scrolling on your phone while he sits at his desk doing homework. “What?” he simply asks. And you repeat the question for him. He thinks about it for a second, letting himself process the question. He flushes and turns back to his homework. He clears his throat and finally responds, “Yes.” The amount of certainty in his voice could convince anyone that he’s right. And in his mind he is. He couldn’t imagine a world where he doesn’t love you and where he doesn’t get to express that.

Trey Clover:

Trey hums as he closes the oven, having just pulled out a freshly baked cake. He puts it down on the counter and grabs the frosting. He looks at you with a small happy smile and nods. “I hope so.” His words are sincere. He really does hope. He couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t. He couldn’t say for sure, but he could hope that every version of himself had you.

Cater Diamond:

“Of course we are,” he responds instantly. He didn’t have to think about it. Or actually he has. He’s thought about it a lot. He’s seen this trend about asking your partner that question and has been wanting to try it on you. He would think you were doing that trend, but you’re not holding your phone and it’s not propped up anywhere. He thought about it when he first saw it, and came to the conclusion that you were. In what world would he not love you? The idea’s unthinkable.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce looks up at you and simply blinks. He takes a moment to think about it and smiles. “Yes,” He says softly. He looks back down at the work he’s doing. Or rather trying to do. He smiles at the idea. He thinks about different versions of you, and different versions of himself. And in each of them, he sees those two versions loving each other. He looks over at you again and smiles softly. He loves you. And he always will.

Ace Trappola:

“No,” he jokingly responds. He has a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks at you. After a moment, he realizes you’re serious. His smile drops and he takes a second to think. “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, we are.” And when he sees you smile, it reinforces his answer. He couldn’t imagine any version of himself not loving that smile. He scoots over to you and kisses you. Yeah, he’s right.

Leona Kingscholar:

He grunts in annoyance when you ask the question. He was just on the verge of sleep before you spoke up. He processes your question for a second and mumbles something about you being stupid. When you give him a light slap on the arm, he chuckles. “Course we are,” he says, “You think I’ll let anyone else have you?” He then pulls you closer into his chest and nuzzles into your hair. “Now let me sleep.” The instant the words leave his mouth, he falls asleep. He doesn’t want to give you a chance to ask another stupid question.

Ruggie Bucchi:

At first, your question doesn’t register. He keeps his eyes on the shirt that he’s sewing. He pauses in his movements and then continues. “What do you think?” he asks, turning the question back on you. Of course his answer is yes, but why would he answer so easily? When you demand he answers, he laughs and looks at you with a smirk. “50 thaumarks,” he says.

Jack Howl:

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. He looks up from his homework to you sitting across from him. “Mates are destined to be together in every universe,” he explains, “that’s what my mom told me.” When you smile at him, his heart skips a beat and his tail starts wagging. Yeah, his mom’s right. Only you could pull this reaction from him. And only you will. In every universe.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul freezes at the question. His hand stills, leaving his pen in one spot on his contract. He blushes brightly once he fully registers that you just asked what he thought you asked. He stares down at the paper, but doesn’t register anything on it. His mind is racing. “Yes,” he finally says. And then he goes back to his contract. After all, you’re his. In this and every other universe.

Jade Leech:

The moment the words leave your mouth, Jade smirks. He looks at you with a grin, all his teeth on full display. “Why do you ask?” he questions. When you urge him to answer he simply chuckles. “I’d never let my prey escape,” he simply says. It’s a concerning answer (he sees you as prey??) but it’s also comforting in a Jade sort of way.

Floyd Leech:

“Of course we are, shrimpy,” he says with a smile. He wraps you in his arms and holds you close. He squeezes you without a care. “Why was that a question,” he asks, suddenly serious. “You think the same, right shrimpy?” It’s in your best interest to say yes.

Kalim Al-Asim:

“Yes,” he responds instantly. He smiles at you and passes a piece of paper over to you when Trien’s not looking. On it is a doodle of you and him holding hands. He smiles brightly at you, and makes a heart with his hands. And when you smile back at him, he can’t help but scoot his chair closer and throw his arms around. And he doesn’t regret it, even when Trien scolds him.

Jamil Viper:

He thinks about the question as he adds some more spice to the curry he’s making for both of you. He brings the ladle to his mouth and tries it before adding some more spices. “Every universe,” he questions as he shoots you a glance. When you nod, he lets out a contemplative hum. “Try this,” he offers the ladle to you and watches you take a sip and then takes a sip himself. “In most,” he finally answers. He knows all is impossible, but he knows in most of them you’re together. After all, that’s not impossible.

Vil Schoenheit:

“That’s an interesting question,” he says as he applies foundation. He glances at you in his mirror and softly smiles. “Yes, Potato. We are,” he answers. When he sees you light up his face softens further. He was soft for you. In every universe, he would be soft for you.

Rook Hunt:

Rook lights up the moment those words fall from your lips. “Of course we are, mon cheri,” he says with a smile. He wraps his arms around you and leans his forehead on yours. “You think so too, don’t you? That's the only reason you would ask,” he closes his eyes in contentment. And then he leans in and kisses you. In every universe, you would always be his muse. He can just feel it.

Epel Felmier:

“Huh,” he looks up at you from his apple carving. “Where’d that come from,” he asks in confusion. When you shrug, he huffs. From your mind, he presumes. Such a dumb question. “Course we are,” he says. He then adds a final touch to the apple and hands it to you. A heart.

Idia Shroud:

Idia freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn’t expect this. His mind starts racing, as the question repeats in his head. His hair turns pink and he starts sweating. No romance game prepared him for this! “Uh, um… What do you think,” he asks. He needs your answer so that he can repeat it back to you. But when you insist he answers you, he lets out a deep breath. Quietly, he says, “yes.” He looks at you and he eases up when he sees you smile. Romance level has gone up, thank god.

Ortho Shroud: Friend

“Yes,” he says, “of course we’re still friends in every universe.” He smiles, or tries to. He then has a thought and giggles. “There’s probably a universe where you’re friends with my living self,” he says. That thought leaves you two theorizing about different universes. And in all those universes, you’re his friend.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus looks up at you with a curious gaze. Every universe? He smiles, “Yes. I’ll make sure we are,” he says simply. You’re not sure what that means, but it’s sweet. And he means it from the bottom of his heart. He’ll make sure in every universe, every life, every dimension, that you two are together.

Lilia Vanrouge:

At first, Lilia doesn’t respond. He’s in the middle of his game and he’s about to win, give him a sec. When the game ends- he won- he finally thinks about the question. He chuckles and looks over at you, laying on his bed. “Of course, my little bat,” he says with a soft smile. He takes his headset off and stands up. “Why don’t I prove it to you?” He throws himself into your arms and starts kissing every inch of your face.

Silver Vanrouge:

Silver perks up at your question. He was just starting to nod off. The question was unexpected, but it kept him awake, so that’s good. He looks at you and thinks for a moment. “Yes,” he says, “My love for you seeps into every universe and every version of myself. So yes, we are.” He softly smiles at you and wraps his arms around you. He holds you for longer than normal. Oh. He fell asleep.

Sebek Zigvolt:

“YES!” he yells. Who do you think he is? Of course he would be with you in every universe. If he is going to serve his liege in every universe, he’s going to be with you in every universe. You’re his human, after all. He’s going to take care of you in this and every other universe.

Che’nya:

He looks at you blankly for a moment before giving you a lopsided grin. “Who’s to say,” he responds with a shrug. He leans over, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Does it matter? We’ve got this universe.” He wraps his tail around you and leans in to kiss your cheek.

Neige Leblanche:

“Yes,” he says without missing a beat. He sweetly smiles at you and leans in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “After all, a prince needs his knight,” he jokes. But there is a small truth to that joke. He could definitely see you as his literal knight in shining armor in another universe.

[ilovegrimm]

Hello!

I made a mini SirenVil comic with SirenRook and SirenEpel, it took me a while because I would feel terrible and my back hurt but here it is, I hope you like it✨❤️

AU of @dilatorywriting

Neige is the one who is in the bag, Vil is removing the rivals😈

[solxamber]

'Elloo! :D I saw your requests open, can I request some hcs or short imagines for the first, second, and third years, separate characters?? Or you can just do it as a single scenario with all the characters. They're (Their??) reaction when they've realized the things reader/Yuu had to go through starting from the very beginning ,when they first got transported to the school. Like, the shock of not being able to go home, new environment, the fear-- just the emotional and mental turmoil reader/yuu went through starting from the beginning.

Also, as time goes by it just gets worse and worse along with all the overblots and stuff that got reader/Yuu over the edge. And now the students kind of help?? Or at least try to soothe or comfort the reader I guess??

Does this make any sense?? I dunno :'D

I want me some angst hehe >:]

But if this is kind of too much then it's okii if you wanna skip this one, I love the effort you put into your writings! <3

I kinda just wanted to ramble and yap about this idea I had hehe

Toodles!

thank you!! and i'm sorry it too so long, but i hope you like it <3

They realise what you went through - All NRC + Rollo + Neige + Grim, Staff

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle doesn’t realize the extent of your struggle until much later, likely after witnessing you reach your breaking point. The way you bottle up your emotions reminds him of himself before his own overblot, and it fills him with guilt. He prides himself on upholding order, but he feels like he failed to notice the chaos within you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Riddle asks, voice trembling as he stands before you, his normally stern expression soft with regret. He places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, unsure if he has the right to offer comfort after overlooking your pain for so long. “I… I should have noticed. I’m sorry.”

Riddle dives into a methodical plan to ease your burdens. He takes on your academic concerns, ensuring your assignments are manageable and offering personal tutoring. When you’re overwhelmed, he insists you take breaks in Heartslabyul’s peaceful rose garden. While he’s not good at openly expressing affection, he’s steadfast, always by your side with words of encouragement and warm tea.

Trey Clover

Trey picks up on your struggles sooner than most, his observant nature allowing him to notice the small cracks in your demeanor. He doesn’t pry but stays close, offering quiet support until he realizes you’re beyond your limit. His heart aches knowing you’ve been carrying so much without asking for help.

“Hey… you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine,” Trey says softly, kneeling beside you as you sit slumped in an empty classroom. His usual calm demeanor is tinged with concern. “I’ve seen you pushing yourself too hard. You’re not alone in this, you know.”

Trey becomes your sanctuary. He’s the type to cook comforting meals for you, often sneaking you your favorite desserts. He encourages you to talk at your own pace, listening without judgment. Trey also ensures you’re surrounded by people who care, gently urging you to spend time with friends so you never feel isolated again.

Cater Diamond

Cater doesn’t fully realize how bad things are until he catches you breaking down when you think no one is watching. The sight hits him hard—he’s used to wearing masks himself, but seeing you put on a brave face while falling apart reminds him of his own struggles.

“Whoa, hey, hey…” Cater’s voice is unusually soft as he crouches in front of you, the playful lilt replaced with genuine worry. “You’ve been holding all this in, haven’t you? Man, that’s not healthy… You should’ve told me!”

Cater becomes your cheerleader, using his energy to lift your spirits. He takes you on spontaneous outings, distracting you with fun activities and selfies to remind you of life’s lighter side. When you need to vent, he’s surprisingly patient, letting you talk without interruptions. His go-to phrase becomes, “No filter, just let it out. I’m here.”

Ace Trappola

Ace is the last to understand the depth of your pain, brushing off your struggles as stress until you finally snap. Seeing you cry or lash out leaves him dumbstruck—he’s not used to serious emotions and struggles to process it at first. But beneath his awkwardness, he genuinely cares.

“Whoa… I didn’t think it was this bad.” Ace rubs the back of his neck, guilt clear in his expression. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things worse. I didn’t mean to. I just… didn’t know.”

Ace sticks close to you in his own Ace-like way. He cracks jokes to make you laugh and distracts you with playful banter, but he’s also there for the serious moments. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he drags you outside to play a quick game of basketball or to look at the stars, insisting, “You’ve gotta clear your head, or you’ll go crazy.”

Deuce Spade

Deuce notices your struggles but doesn’t know how to approach you about them. When he finally sees you crumble, it makes him feel like he’s failed as your friend. His protective instincts kick in, and he becomes determined to help you in any way he can.

“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this the whole time?” Deuce’s voice is thick with emotion as he looks at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something! I’m supposed to have your back!”

Deuce takes your well-being seriously, to the point of overcompensating at first. He insists on walking you to class, carrying your things, and defending you against anything he perceives as a threat (real or imagined). Over time, he learns to provide quiet support, sitting with you during tough moments and saying, “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is a perceptive man, even if he acts otherwise, but your struggles slip under his radar for too long. It isn’t until he notices how you’ve stopped rising to his teasing or how the light in your eyes has dimmed that the gravity of your situation hits him. It reminds him of his own sense of isolation, and the guilt gnaws at him.

“Tch. You think you’re the only one who has to deal with this crap?” Leona’s voice is gruff, but there’s no malice in it. He sighs, sitting beside you under the shade of a tree. “You should’ve said something sooner, herbivore. Doesn’t mean you have to carry it all yourself.”

Leona doesn’t coddle you, but his actions speak louder than his words. He offers his presence, silently inviting you to nap in the botanical gardens with him when you need a break. If anyone dares to make your life harder, Leona handles it with a quiet, lethal efficiency. “Rest up. You’re not falling apart on my watch.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie notices your struggles quickly, but his initial reaction is to brush it off as normal stress—until he sees you genuinely hit your breaking point. It stuns him; he’s used to dealing with hardships himself but hates the idea of you enduring the same without support.

“Oi, don’t do this to yourself,” Ruggie says, his usual playful tone replaced by something softer. “You’re not alone, y’know? I don’t let my people suffer in silence. That’s not how we roll.”

Ruggie uses his resourcefulness to lighten your load however he can. He sneaks you snacks, takes care of tedious tasks for you, and even makes you laugh with his sharp wit. When you’re overwhelmed, he shares stories of his struggles to show you that it’s okay to lean on others. “You’ve got me, okay? I’ll make sure you’re okay, promise.”

Jack Howl

Jack notices the signs of your stress early on, but he hesitates to bring it up, unsure if it’s his place. When he finally realizes how deeply you’re struggling, it stirs a protective instinct in him, and he immediately resolves to do whatever it takes to help you.

“You should’ve told me,” Jack says, his voice low and filled with regret. His ears twitch as he glances away, guilt etched across his face. “I could’ve helped. You don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”

Jack becomes your steadfast support, encouraging you to exercise or go for runs to clear your mind. He’s a calming presence, offering quiet companionship when words aren’t enough. “You’re strong, but you don’t always have to be. Let me help carry the weight, okay?”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prides himself on noticing vulnerabilities in others, but your ability to mask your pain throws him off. When the cracks finally show, it shakes him deeply, reminding him of his own insecurities and the times he felt powerless.

“I didn’t realize…” Azul murmurs, his hands wringing nervously as he looks at you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I’m sorry—for everything. Let me help you now.”

Azul’s approach is practical and calculated, but it’s rooted in genuine care. He offers to take over responsibilities or negotiate solutions to ease your stress. When you’re overwhelmed, he’s unexpectedly tender, sitting with you in his VIP room and reminding you, “Even the strongest need someone to lean on. You’ve been there for others; let us be here for you.”

Jade Leech

Jade notices your struggles early but refrains from intervening, assuming you’ll reach out when you’re ready. When he realizes how much you’ve been bottling up, he’s surprised and slightly guilty for not addressing it sooner.

“My, you’ve been carrying quite the burden,” Jade says, his usual calm tinged with regret. “It seems I underestimated just how much you’ve endured. Forgive my oversight.”

Jade is a master of subtlety, offering comfort in ways that feel natural and unintrusive. He invites you on quiet walks through the woods, using the serene atmosphere to help ease your mind. When words are needed, he listens attentively, his soothing voice offering reassurance. “Do not hesitate to lean on me, should you need support. I’ll always be here.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn’t realize how bad things are until you completely snap, and even then, it takes him a moment to process that your outburst isn’t just a temporary mood. Seeing you so broken flips a switch in him, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.

“Shrimpy, why didn’t you say anything?” Floyd’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, his sharp eyes scanning your face. He pouts, but there’s no mischief in it—just genuine concern. “You don’t gotta handle everything alone, y’know?”

Floyd sticks to you like glue, his unpredictable nature becoming a strange source of comfort. He drags you out for spontaneous adventures, insisting that fun will help you feel better. When you’re feeling low, he’s surprisingly gentle, wrapping you in a tight hug and muttering, “I gotcha, Shrimpy. Nobody’s messin’ with you while I’m here.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is always full of energy and positivity, so it takes him a while to notice the depths of your struggles. When he does, he’s devastated, blaming himself for not seeing it sooner.

“Wait—you’ve been feeling like this?” Kalim’s eyes widen, tears threatening to spill. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve done something to help!”

Kalim does everything in his power to brighten your days. He showers you with gifts, invites you to lively parties, and insists on spending time together to lift your spirits. When he realizes that quiet support means more than grand gestures, he sits with you, holding your hand. “You’re not alone, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil is highly observant, and while he notices your struggles early on, he assumes you’re managing on your own until he sees how much you’ve truly endured. It reminds him of his own bottled-up frustrations, and guilt eats at him for not acting sooner.

“...I should’ve known,” Jamil mutters, his voice low and filled with regret. He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I’ve been through this too. I know what it’s like to feel trapped. I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner.”

Jamil’s care comes in quiet, thoughtful gestures. He prepares your favorite meals, arranges peaceful moments away from the chaos of NRC, and ensures you never feel overwhelmed alone. “You’ve done more than enough. Let me take care of things for a while.”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil’s sharp eyes catch the signs of your struggles quickly, but he initially brushes them off, believing you’ll overcome them like any challenge. When the full weight of your burden becomes clear, he’s horrified and deeply regretful for not intervening sooner.

“I failed to notice something so glaringly obvious,” Vil says, his tone laced with self-reproach. “That’s not acceptable—not as your friend and certainly not as someone who should’ve supported you better.”

Vil approaches your comfort with precision and care, determined to help you regain your footing. He insists on self-care days, encourages you to vent your frustrations, and teaches you grounding techniques. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need rest. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Rook Hunt

Rook is attuned to the emotions of those around him, and your pain does not escape his notice. He marvels at your resilience but is deeply saddened that you’ve been enduring so much without seeking help.

“Mon cher trésor, your suffering… it pains me to think I let you endure this alone,” Rook says softly, his gaze earnest. “You’ve carried a weight that no one should bear by themselves. Allow me to lighten your burden.”

Rook’s support is poetic and heartfelt, crafting moments of beauty to remind you of the world’s wonders. Whether it’s a bouquet of flowers, a handwritten letter, or a quiet moment under the stars, he ensures you feel cherished. “You are not alone in this grand stage of life, and I shall remain by your side as your steadfast ally.”

Epel Felmier

Epel is initially too caught up in his own frustrations to notice the extent of your struggles, but once he sees you falter, his protective side kicks in. It reminds him of his own insecurities about being underestimated.

“Aw, geez, why didn’t ya say somethin’?” Epel frowns, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’re always lookin’ out for us, but ya never let anyone do the same for you. That ain’t fair.”

Epel takes a straightforward approach, offering to help however he can. He sticks close, ensuring you never feel alone, and encourages you to vent when needed. “You’re tough as nails, but that doesn’t mean you gotta do it all by yourself. We’re a team, remember?”

Idia Shroud

Idia is slow to notice your struggles, being so wrapped up in his own world, but when he realizes the extent of your pain, it hits him hard. He sees a reflection of his own struggles in you and feels immense guilt for not seeing it sooner.

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” Idia mumbles, his voice trembling. His hair dims as he nervously fiddles with his tablet. “I should’ve… I don’t know, paid more attention. I’m sorry. I—I wanna help, if you’ll let me.”

Idia comforts you in his own awkward way, creating a safe space where you can relax without judgment. He shares his favorite games, shows, and quiet moments, offering you an escape from the chaos. “You don’t have to be ‘okay’ all the time. Just… take it easy for now. I’m here if you need me.”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho is one of the first to notice your struggles, his advanced sensors picking up on changes in your emotional and physical state. His concern is immediate, and he wastes no time in seeking to help.

“You’ve been so sad for so long, haven’t you?” Ortho’s voice is soft, as he hovers close. “I wish I could’ve made you smile sooner. I’m sorry you’ve been hurting.”

Ortho’s comfort is warm and reassuring, filled with optimism and boundless energy. He’s always ready with encouraging words, small gifts, or simply a cheerful presence to brighten your day. “You’re not alone! I’ll do everything I can to help you feel better, okay?”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus has always sensed something amiss about your emotions, his acute sensitivity to auras making it impossible for him to overlook your struggles. However, he hesitates to approach, fearing he might overstep or worsen your burdens. When he finally understands the depth of your pain, he is both heartbroken and determined to help.

“You’ve been enduring this in silence?” His deep voice is laced with regret as his green eyes soften. “If only I had been more attentive, perhaps I could have eased your pain.”

Malleus ensures you feel his unwavering support. He invites you for peaceful strolls under the stars, shares his favorite quiet spots, and reassures you with his calming presence. “You are precious to me. Whatever darkness surrounds you, I will remain by your side until the light returns.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia has lived long enough to recognize the signs of emotional turmoil, and it pains him to see you suffer. While he often masks his seriousness with cheerfulness, he doesn’t hesitate to step in when he sees you reaching your breaking point.

“Oh, little one, you’ve carried such a heavy heart all this time.” His playful demeanor fades into solemnity as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Lilia comforts you with wisdom and warmth, drawing on centuries of experience. He shares stories to make you laugh, cooks (albeit questionable) meals to distract you, and offers sage advice when you’re ready to talk. “Life’s trials are harsh, but you’re stronger than you know. And if you need someone to lean on, I’ll always be here.”

Silver

Silver is observant despite his drowsy nature, and he’s one of the first to notice your growing exhaustion. When he realizes the extent of your suffering, he feels deeply remorseful for not acting sooner.

“I should have seen this sooner,” Silver says quietly, his tone filled with regret. “You’ve always looked out for others… I should’ve done the same for you.”

Silver stays by your side, offering silent, steady support. He doesn’t push you to talk but is always ready to listen when you’re ready. His calm demeanor helps ground you, and he often sits quietly with you under a tree or by a calm lake. “You’re not alone. I’ll protect you—not just from danger, but from this weight you’re carrying.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek’s initial reaction is frustration—not at you, but at himself for failing to notice your struggles while being so focused on Malleus. His loyalty shifts into overdrive as he becomes determined to help you.

“You’ve been struggling this much, and I didn’t see it?!” Sebek’s voice is loud, but there’s a rare softness in his expression. “That is… unacceptable. I failed you as a companion.”

Sebek’s attempts to comfort you are a bit clumsy but heartfelt. He insists on helping you with daily tasks and loudly declares his commitment to your well-being. Despite his rough edges, his sincerity shines through. “Know this: I will not allow you to suffer alone any longer. You have my loyalty, now and always.”

Rollo Flamme

Rollo’s disdain for magic only deepens when he realizes how much you’ve suffered due to the chaos and overblots of NRC. His concern for you is genuine, though it’s laced with anger toward the school and its culture.

“This place… It’s a cesspool of disorder and harm,” Rollo says, his voice cold yet trembling with suppressed emotion. “You’ve been caught in its web for too long. You deserve better.”

Rollo’s comfort is practical and protective. He tries to create a sense of normalcy for you, offering quiet, structured moments away from the chaos. His words are sharp but sincere. “You deserve a life of peace and stability. If you can’t find it here, I’ll do what I can to give it to you.”

Neige LeBlanche

Neige is quick to notice your distress, his naturally empathetic nature making him keenly aware of your struggles. He’s horrified to think of you enduring so much alone and wants to do everything in his power to make you smile again.

“Oh no… You’ve been feeling like this?” Neige’s voice is soft, his eyes brimming with concern. “You don’t deserve to carry such sadness by yourself.”

Neige’s comfort is gentle and uplifting. He sings for you, offers kind words, and encourages you to express your feelings without fear. “You’re so strong, but you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to let someone take care of you for a change.”

Grim

Grim initially doesn’t notice your struggles, his focus often on his own ambitions and mischief. When he finally realizes how much you’ve been enduring, he feels both guilt and panic.

“Hey… You’re not okay, are ya?” Grim’s ears droop as he looks up at you, his voice unusually soft. “Why didn’t ya tell me? I—I’m supposed to be your partner!”

Grim becomes fiercely protective, sticking by your side at all times. He tries to cheer you up with his antics and insists on being your “emotional support boss.” “You’re stuck with me, got it? So don’t go actin’ like you’re all alone. I won’t let ya.”

Staff:

Crowley

Crowley prides himself on being the "benevolent" headmaster, but when he realizes how much you’ve suffered under his care—or lack thereof—he’s struck by a rare pang of guilt. While he’s not one to admit fault outright, he becomes visibly uncomfortable with the weight of his oversight.

“My dear, you’ve been carrying all of this on your shoulders?” His dramatic flair falters for a moment, his usual exuberance replaced with awkward sincerity. “I… suppose I may have been a tad neglectful in ensuring your well-being.”

Crowley tries to make amends in his own roundabout way, offering resources, extended accommodations, or attempting to be more attentive (though his efforts are often misguided). “Rest assured, I shall personally oversee that you are well cared for! You have my full support—within reason, of course.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel is not one to tolerate weakness, but when he sees the toll everything has taken on you, his stern demeanor softens. He’s the type to take immediate, no-nonsense action to ensure you’re taken care of.

“You’ve let it get this bad without saying a word?” His sharp tone is laced with frustration, but his eyes betray his concern. “Pup, I thought I taught you better than to carry burdens alone.”

Crewel’s approach is practical yet caring. He insists you rest, brings you comforting meals, and ensures you know you’re valued. “You’re stronger than you think, but even the strongest need support. Lean on me, pup. I’ll make sure you’re back to full strength in no time.”

Mozus Trein

Trein is a man of wisdom and observation. He likely noticed your struggles but respected your space, waiting for the right time to step in. When he realizes the full extent of your distress, he feels deep regret for not intervening sooner.

“I should have addressed this earlier.” His voice is steady but tinged with remorse. “You’ve faced more challenges than any student should. It’s a testament to your resilience, but it shouldn’t have come to this.”

Trein offers gentle guidance, providing stability and reassurance. He shares stories of his own trials and reminds you that even the hardest times pass. “Life is fraught with difficulties, but you’ve shown remarkable courage. Allow others to help shoulder the burden—you need not face this alone.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas isn’t the most emotionally perceptive, but when it finally clicks that you’re struggling, he’s hit with a wave of guilt. He immediately shifts gears, trading his usual boisterousness for genuine concern.

“Whoa… I had no idea it was this bad,” Vargas says, his brows furrowed in concern. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I would’ve helped in a heartbeat!”

Vargas focuses on physical activity as a form of comfort, encouraging you to blow off steam in healthy ways. He also offers constant positive reinforcement. “You’re tough, kid, but even the toughest need a break. Let’s get some fresh air and clear your head—you’ve got this!”

Sam

Sam has always been attuned to the emotions of others, so when he realizes the depth of your struggles, he feels a pang of regret for not stepping in sooner. His usual upbeat demeanor becomes tinged with quiet sympathy.

“Well, well… Looks like someone’s been carrying more than their fair share.” His voice is soft, his usual grin replaced with a concerned expression. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Sam provides comfort through small but meaningful gestures, like preparing your favorite treats or giving you space to talk. He reassures you with his calming presence and wise words. “Don’t keep it bottled up, friend. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid. I’m here to help you through it.”

Masterlist

[temiizpalace]

☆┊WILL YOU MARRY ME? ..FOR THE FOOD OF COURSE

SUMMARY: a friend on the inside told you that this restaurant gives out free food to guests who propose.. well what better way to get free food than to get your crush in on this?

CHARACTERS: all (+RSA and ROLLO)

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: ignore the fact it’s a ton of highschool students getting proposed to

reader gender is not mentioned, reader could be yuu

THINKS ITS STUPID ; YOU PROPOSE

so let him get this straight. you want to fake a marriage proposal with him just to get a free dinner at a fancy restaurant? are you joking? why would you want to go through the hassle? he could literally cook or get someone to cook you a meal twice as good! also for free! you’re so lucky he likes you too. i mean what. anyways, reluctantly, he agreed to the plan.

as you got on one knee, he couldn’t help his heart from pounding. it’s fake, the boy reminded himself, trying to suppress his painfully obvious heartbeat. you slide the ring on his finger, the applause around him being the only to pull him out of lala land. at first he thought it was dumb, but next time, he wouldn’t mind doing this again so long as you don’t go back on your word.

he forgot about the food and barely ate.

ace, riddle, leona, azul, jamil, idia, sebek, rollo

HESITANT, BUT AGREES ; HE PROPOSES

proposal? like, marriage proposal? oh. oh seven. SERIOUSLY— wait, no, a staged one. whoops. haha, you got him. gosh darn it.. you want to do this with him though? you could’ve asked anyone else! what an honor it is to pretend to marry you.. it’s like a dream come true! sort of. hold on, what if he gets carried away? jeez, it makes him nervous just thinking about it.. can he do this? is this morally correct? well you asked him first.. okay, he’ll do it!

the ring box rests in his pocket, waiting for your signal before he can ask for your hand. as he got on his knee, he could feel his hands tremble, begging not to screw up or accidentally drop the ring. his eyes meet yours, as did the audiences. the heat in his cheeks rose immensely as he uttered the four magic words, your acceptance gaining cheers from the crowd. that.. that felt good. he’ll definitely propose to you again! but the next time he does, it won’t be for show.

he was sad when he remembered this was fake. the food didn’t taste good anymore.

deuce, cater, trey, jack, ruggie, epel, malleus, silver

HE GETS REALLY INTO IT ; HE PROPOSES

there was no convincing involved at all. the moment you said “let’s fake a proposal” he already agreed. and please let me tell you how into it he got. he went through rehearsals, wrote down heartfelt poems, and even got all dolled up just for the occasion. he showed up to your door with a bouquet of flowers, lifting your hand to brush against his lips, escorting you by the arm to his transportation, just the whole thing. like damn you’re not even in public yet. relax.

at the restaurant, he grabbed your hands suddenly, turning you to face him. he began to go on about how much he loved you, and how much your moments together meant to him. he lowered himself onto one knee, pulling the velvet box out of his pockets. you are presented with a REAL ring (not the fake one you offered, nono), with a glittering stone on top. this was an act, yet even you believed it was real for a moment. you accept his proposal before he suddenly pulled you in with his lips nearly against yours.

he pulls back, the sounds of tears from the waiter and compliments from other customers being the only sounds made in the moment. he plays it off like it was nothing, yet you felt yourself overheating at his bold acts. if this is how far he’ll go for an act, imagine how far he’ll go for the real thing.

ate his meal like nothing happened. you were the one who couldn’t eat.

jade, vil, rook, lilia che’nya

YOU HAD HIM THE SECOND YOU SPOKE ; YOU PROPOSE

yes. you didn’t even need to finish your sentence, it’s a yes. he’ll do it. ohhh propose! sure! he’ll do it right now! what? later? okay! wait, just pretend? ah. he sees now. while a little disappointed that this was just for a free meal, he’ll still do it. it’s basically real if you act like it is, right? whatever! you asked him to do this, meaning you must like him enough right? he’s excited now just thinking about! don’t worry about anything, he’s got it all figured out!

or he thought he did. you grab his hand as you wore a charming smile on your face. you spoke of fond memories you had of him and moments you’ve had together (that didn’t actually happen) which just gave him butterflies. he was such anice outgoing and cheery person, yet, this is the first time he just can’t find the words. as you asked for his hand in marriage, he felt his heart skip a beat before accepting gracefully. as you both hear your congratulations, finished your meal, and left the restaurant, he refused to take the ring off of his finger. he’ll wear it forever. it’ll look very nice with the real one he got you when it’s his turn to propose.

pookie please take the ring off it made a dent in your finger

floyd, kalim, neige

YOU HAD HIM AT FREE FOOD

free? food? now those are words ruggie likes to hear in the same sentence. AND ITS A FANCY RESTAURANT? sign. him. up. there’s proposal involved? cool. while he’s also really into that, he seemed more interested in what kind of foods they give out for free yknow what im saying?

will it be authentic sunset savanna dishes? scalding sands dishes? foods from the shaftlands? cmon, just spit it out. it’s not that he doesn’t care! you actually did catch him off guard with that proposal bit. he’s just really excited for the food part. when he saw the restaurant, he could already tell the food was going to be good.

as the proposal goes along, yada, yada, yada, the dinner is presented on the table. was he in heaven? did he die? cause holy crappp.. getting to become his crushes fiancé while also eating good was his idea of paradise! and this was just one restaurant that did this? what about the others? you can’t just leave em hanging! when you guys actually propose to each other, he’ll definitely want to do it in another fancy restaurant.

ruggie

A/N: hey guys im back (god damn that’s a lot of tags)

date published: 8/16/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[mellowwillowy]

I love how you portray self aware twst!

Can i request a yan! Self aware twisted wonderland and player who just recently entered twst? Unaware that they're considered as a "god" (not cannibal pls)

Like, the player is shy and quiet at first but if they get comfortable enough with someone they'll be more talkative and a lil' extroverted?

The not cannibal pls had me laughing, I really turned the player into this man-eater huh lol. Can't really write that much about reader so I'll just feed you some irrelevant crumbs.

The whole campus is probably still in a mess despite your diet though. Students fight against each other out of jealousy to drag each other down so that you can focus more on them.

Riddle and Azul's rivalries are the funniest. Especially because Riddle finally notices how capable Azul is in doing better than him now (maybe not academically lol). Truly they both are almost like carbon copy in your eyes.

Leona and Vil walk side by side dissing each other while presenting themselves as a complete 180 to you.

Idia shaking in his boots trying to appear less giddy and anxious in your eyes while Kalim just sings songs as he hops his way to you with his gold jingling merrily.

Malleus is very straightforward about his wish to worshipping you, even going as far as to kneel down immediately upon you noticing him while Lilia just casually wraps his arm around you, acting all buddy-like while savoring the closeness between you two. Malleus is jealous, petty jealous of him.

In your eyes, you just feel like you are just some transmigrated protagonist in a romance game, unaware of how sinister their feelings are toward you, their player, their God.

But it turns out that their God is quite the humble one huh? They don't pride themselves on their holiness, they don't differentiate their treatment from one another (unless you are biased) and they are actually very quiet and collected!

It takes a lot of prying to finally see you pay attention to them and laugh at the jokes Ace and Deuce crack. It takes effort for the beastmen for you to finally feel how fluffy their ears are! Jack's tail is wagging so hard that Ruggie had to step on it.

It takes lots of convincing acts and guilt-tripping for Jade to make you visit Mostro Lounge and enjoy the drinks Floyd specifically makes for you, the prettiest and most delicious drinks you've ever had!

It takes a lot of effort for Cater to finally have you posing for the selfies he takes with you! It takes a lot of time for Trey to finally know which treats gain your attention and suits your liking after making shit tons of them.

It takes a lot of guilt-tripping from Jamil to make you finally attend one of the feasts Kalim throws for you and oh boy was it grand.

It's not hard for Epel to win your attention because of how cute he is lol. But it sure is hard for him to gain your trust that he's just a boy. Rook on the other hand creeps you out so much that you have to tell him to stop and that indirectly means you finally notice him!

It takes lots of convincing from Ortho to finally make you agree to play with him in the board game club that Idia and Azul are in. You finally know just how normal they are when they are playing, yes, normal (they are literally fighting teeth and nails to win it).

It takes a lot of effort for Sebek not to scream around you while Silver tries his best not to doze off on your shoulder. The first time being close to you instantly made him fall asleep soundly while Sebek had to sing praises for you in a voice that could shake the ground.

It was easy for Neige to warm into you because well, he's kind, sweet, and all but he has this protagonist aura to him unlike those NRC boys (except Silver and Kalim). He loves singing for you!

It was also easy for Chen'ya to get into your funny side by pulling countless harmless pranks on you (unlike Ace who has to try hard, again, RSA aura).

Rollo on the other hand worships you like there's no tomorrow. He's great at masking it as something far from obsession and not creeping you away unlike Malleus but he certainly has a shrine dedicated to you in his room too. A bit small if compared to the fae's.

Bonus: Fellow and Gideon scaring you because of how weird they are but Gideon manages to melt your heart so you decide to trust Fellow.

[yuu-kantokusei]

Their nicknames for you ♡

Pairs: Twst characters x you

Characters: Twst + Rollo, Che'nya, Neige, Skully, Fellow

POV: their nicknames for you in a relationship

Riddle Rosehearts - Dear rose

Ace Trappola - Sweetheart

Deuce Spade - My star

Trey Clover - Honeybun

Cater Diamond - Cutie

Leona Kingscholar - Little lion

Ruggie Bucchie - Snacks

Jack Howl - Moonlight

Azul Ashengrotto - Pearl

Jade Leech - Darling

Floyd Leech - My little shrimpy

Kalim Al Asim - Sunshine

Jamil Viper - Jewel

Vil Schoenheit - Fairest

Epel Felmier - Blossom

Rook Hunt - Mon trésor

Idia Shroud - Pixel

Malleus Draconia - Beloved

Lilia Vanrouge - Starlight

Silver - Dreamer

Sebek Zigvolt - My duty

Rollo Flamme - Sanctum

Che'nya - My cheshire

Neige LeBlanche - Belle

Skully J Graves - Soulmate

Fellow Honest - Honeytongue

[jessamine-rose]

Yandere Neige suffering! What about him witnessing Vil in his natural environment being the mom friend & breaking the idealism of onstage Vil? Epel being a good li'l country boy, protecting his mama, getting the other first years to help. Maybe all this during halloween. Neige spotting Vil with Leona plus Cheka. All 3 in costumes, looking like a little family. Neige only glaring for a brief time before the first years led by shotgun-wielding Epel catch up.

Yandere! Neige x Vil ๑ The Full Saga

Ohhhh thanks for feeding me with more ideas, Anonie!! Take this sweet treat in return~

Tw:: yandere, stalking, obsessive behavior

No treats for Neige this Halloween~

So this is how Vil Schoenheit presents himself to certain people. Soft smiles, genuine laughter, hugs and kisses…he’s beautiful but what did those graceless first-years do to deserve this side of Vii-kun?!!

Even worse is the interaction between Vil and the Kingscholars. The sight is another stab to Neige’s heart, given all those times he and Vil were denied matching outfits in movies and college. Moreover, whose great idea was this?!! Vil, of all people, should know the dangers of such a conspicuous ensemble. One photo is all it takes for dating rumors to circulate.

Not if he beats them to it.

“Vii-kun, trick or treat!”

Once Leona and Cheka are gone, Neige runs up to Vil in a burst of sparkles. His plain cape is discarded, revealing a princely garment similar to Vil’s queenly attire. Everything, from the fashion style to their crowns, is suggestive of a couple’s costume.

Was that a flicker of recognition or irritation in those pretty violet eyes? “...Neige. What are you doing here?”

It’s too late for Vil. Already, Neige’s surprise has attracted squeals and camera flashes from the nearby tourists. A quick glance confirms that Epel is still pushing his way to the front of the crowd.

Neige takes a step closer and offers a charming smile.

“Do you mind taking a photo together?”

♡

Tag a NeigeVil shipper!! @shoujolover-666 @wildnya @yanmaresu @localanimeidiot

[shiny-jr]

➸ damnation [ the raven retainer ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

– Note: Hopefully everything transferred over okay from the quiz. Been holding off on this one because I know with the amount of Pomefiore and Vil admirers, posting this is like lighting up a firework by hand and having to run before it goes off.

– Pages: 42

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer   |   The Praetorian Imp

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall! 

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment? 

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.” 

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! A page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven? 

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending. 

Knowing this brought you some much needed relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be. 

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard. 

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace. 

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing. 

“Thank you…! You saved me!” 

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you may already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?” 

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his worn and tattered attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.” 

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…” 

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure. 

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you. 

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story. 

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!” 

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason. 

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.” 

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass. 

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming. 

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!” 

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathers fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow. 

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger. 

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke it caused you to freeze. 

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.” 

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him. 

“Closer.” 

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne. 

“Closer.” 

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.” 

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.” 

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.” 

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear. 

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile. 

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes. 

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!” 

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him. 

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.” 

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two. 

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago. 

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival. 

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.” 

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it. 

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!” 

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.” 

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king. 

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?” 

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess. 

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You replied hastily with a slow bow. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Just from your few moments here, you can already tell that the king was frightening when vexed, and you did not want to stick around to see if that got worse when he spoke privately with his huntsman. And yet, as you turned tail to retreat back into the hallway past the closed doors, you knew the heir he mentioned could have only been the only other person in the room: Epel. 

Epel, much like you, didn’t seem to have any desire to stick around longer than necessary. Once you and the heir were out and the doors were closed shut, simultaneously you both heaved a sigh of relief, although short and brief as the heavy weight of the king's command was still prominent. There must’ve been even more on the young heir’s mind, because his gaze flittered over to you and he began to eye you suspiciously. With a surprising amount of strength for someone of his short stature and delicate appearance, he grabbed your arm and began to drag you down the halls away from the throne room, soldiers standing guards, and anyone else. Until you were in a different setting, by one of the castle’s exits to a dark backside corner of the garden where there was just one big oak tree that provided shade underneath its huge branches. What was this about? Why did he bring you here? 

Those questions were answered when he finally stopped underneath the tree and let go of your limb, only to whip his head back at you with such an angered expression that caught you off guard. The location now seemed like some place he could yell in frustration without being caught, because it was so quiet and isolated here. “That entire time, when that crazy old goon with that stupid metal crown basically kidnapped me from my home and brought me here for his little contest I wanted no part of, you knew he’d want the losers dead, didn’t you?! Hell, you helped him get rid of the bodies! I trustedyou, you big fat lying s––!” 

Quickly clamping your right hand over his mouth to shut him up, you stared at him as he gazed at you wide-eyed, as if shocked you’d even try to stop him. It dawned on you then. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” Just then, you felt a sharp pain in your palm. Hissing, you immediately retracted your hand, shocked to see some broken skin and feel it sting. He just bit you––! 

Epel spat onto the ground, infuriated as he yelled, “Are you daft? All that time in the undercroft made your brain rot or something?” An idea came to him. Still angry, but brightening up substantially, he lifted his head and glared at you. “Rook’s busy with Vil, and if I beat you there’d be no one to take me back to that stuffy prison of a room.” From his hip, he unsheathed a dagger and pointed it at you. “Out of my way, or I’ll make sure you join the rest of those duds you buried!” 

Removing your own weapon, the short sword from your back, that you thankfully were still carrying and was larger than his own blade, you pointed it at him. “You were saying, Epel, was it?” Seeing his confident expression falter, you decided to add quickly just in case he tried to act recklessly and try attacking you with his dagger anyways. “I’ll tell you this because it seems we both want to live and I believe we might be able to help each other get what we want. So let’s get something straight, I am not the retainer you know.” 

You gave him a moment to process what you said as you both lowered your weapons. In the quiet of the brief moment, you listened for any sign of prying ears but there was none. Upon seeing Epel’s confusion and suspicion with his guard still raised, you continued, 

“It’s unbelievable, I know, but I’m not the same person. Where I come from, this place is a lot like a fairytale story but different. I was arrested back home and sent here as punishment. This means my punishment was to take the role of the pet or servant of the royal and face some unknown demise. Now, from what I’ve picked up, it sounds like you’re here against your will too. Both of us might end up dead if we’re not careful.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of Epel watching you closely and deciding on what to do, he lowered his dagger completely after he saw you lower yours. “That sounds like a load of crap but… the real retainer would know better than to talk to Neige of all people. You didn’t, which explains that.” Maybe he wasn’t entirely convinced by your narrative, because he proceeded to ask, “You said this was like some kid’s story you read once or somethin’? Tell me what happens to me.” 

“That’s the issue. It’s an old story that doesn’t go into detail, you weren’t even a character and my role is just a raven.” Placing away your sword that you handled a bit awkwardly, since you really had no idea how to use it, but the heir didn’t seem to notice that as he placed away his own weapon. “From what I got, you were brought here against your will and there were others that are no longer here. Now, you’re the royal heir. Care to explain?” 

Raising an eyebrow, Epel demanded, “If I tell you, you have to promise to tell me something. You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you?” 

“I do.” Nodding at his words in confirmation, you then answered, “Of course I’ll tell you since we’re helping each other out.” 

After a second, he sighed, “Fine. I’ll trust you, but only because you’re not really the retainer. Ya see, I’m from a small farming town near the borderlands. A few months ago, Vil gave a secret proclamation. He wanted the seven of the most beautiful candidates gathered at his castle, status or talent didn’t matter, as long as they were younger than him and had looks up to his high standards. Rook, you met him already, was in charge of finding these candidates and bringing them in whether they liked it or not, and you, or well… the old retainer, were in charge of taking the loser home whenever someone failed one of Vil’s challenges. At least, that’s what they told us. My guess is that the king doesn’t want his little brother to inherit the throne since he’s so jealous and all. All the candidates had a chance to become the next in line for the throne if they won all the challenges, and if they lost they got to go home. But no matter how hard I tried to lose, you kept me from losing so I guess I owe the old retainer for that because without them I’d be… probably lying face-down in a ditch somewhere.” 

Slowly he shrugged, those words he uttered now being processed in his mind. It seemed to have struck him, because he became quiet. 

“... I was the last one standing, even though I didn’t wanna be. Ever since then, I’ve been stuck here, forced to spend my days with strict lessons being taught by Vil. All my escape attempts were stopped by Rook, of course, that crazy loon…” Gazing up at you, he slowly regained his confidence and nodded, “But now, I’m gonna escape for sure this time and go back home! Screw the crown and these dumb silk clothes!” 

“Easy, Epel, for now we just do as we’re told. I don’t want things to get too out of hand if it isn’t necessary. In the original story, the queen, king in this situation, causes his own death. As long as we avoid angering him AND avoid Neige, we should be fine. But…” You considered your next words carefully. What if something goes wrong? What if things had to change drastically in order to survive? Would you have a better chance at surviving if the protagonist, Neige, were to actually die and the antagonist, Vil, receive a good ending instead? You didn’t truly want to kill the prince, even if he was naive, he seemed like a truly good person. But if it was you or him… “I still need to see how things play out. If it comes down to it and things take a wrong turn, how far will you go to survive?” 

Epel gave you a look before scoffing and taking out his dagger as a reminder, “I was about ready to stab ya just to escape and get back home. I’ll do anything to make it outta here alive, to make sure both of us live. But now since you’re helping me out, and I’m helping you out, we gotta stick together. Got it?”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

For your own safety, you deemed it better to do nothing in the meanwhile as you waited to see if the plot would progress as it did in the story. What you hadn’t taken into account was how long the wait would be. Apparently when Vil instructed Rook to escort Neige out to be discreetly killed, he didn’t mean right at that second. It was something he had planned to happen soon, but not quite yet. This gave you enough time to assess the situation.

One thing you were grateful for was the former retainer’s work ethic. The beautiful king had deemed you had done enough by assisting in his endeavors that included potion-brewing and murder, something you hadn’t actually done, at least not for him. So, your responsibilities included keeping Epel in check as a prince-in-training and staying out to receive enough sunlight as per Vil’s strict orders. 

For the remainder of the first day and the following second day, you and Epel reviewed the lessons he loathed and quietly retreated to garden grooves to discuss possible plans of action including what to do afterwards when you had both gained your freedom. Additionally, you learned from the heir that you were not so different from the character you replaced. Even Epel admitted he was fooled until that one mistake you made of acknowledging Neige. So, all you would have to do was keep calm and be yourself, but also not yourself. You were technically playing the role of someone else that just happened to act like you. 

Your superior had summoned you on the second night. When you arrived, you saw servants around the ballroom decorating the area with fine silk curtains and candelabras. Round tables set up in another section of the extensive room, tables set with sheets and porcelain. Vil stood at the edge of the room, noticing you out of the corner of his eyes as another attendant brought to his attention something about outfits. 

As Vil began to strut towards another room, you could do nothing but follow as he commanded, “Hurry now, my retainer.” 

You did as you were told, following and noting down the little details from the dark colors used in most of the decorations as well as the mention of flowers being prepared. Once in a private room with you and his entourage, he delicately removed his crown from his blonde tresses. “Epel is much more tame with you. I swear, that boy is giving me white hair.” 

No, but you’re going to do that to yourself, you think as you recall the scene from the story where the beautiful queen turns herself into a ragged old hag. “He can be… a little troublesome, yes.” You stand closer to the door as the beautiful young man disappears behind an elegantly patterned dressing screen. 

Judging by the servants there carefully handling various types of clothes, you could only assume he was trying on different outfits for whatever event he was preparing to host. During a review of Epel’s lessons, you were able to learn as well. Despite Vil being a person of great envy and cruelty, he was actually a fair leader that was beloved by most, so long as they didn’t incur his wrath. Reportedly, multiple nobles, knights, and other royals have vied for the beautiful king’s affection, but to no avail. All were turned down. 

“Troublesome, hah, you’re being much too kind. That wouldn’t be my choice of word.” Vil scoffed as he changed behind the screen. Once he was seemingly satisfied with an outfit after throwing multiple aside, he emerged in a slightly long, dark, and exquisite dress-like garb with large sleeves. Snapping his fingers, he stood straight as his eyes lingered on you as he said simply, “Jewels.” 

Picking up his meaning, you gingerly plucked the intricate golden necklace a nearby servant was carrying on a pillow and assisted him in placing it on. You steadied your breathing as you noticed that he was watching you carefully. Moving in front of him, you placed the detailed and sharp claw rings on his index finger and ring finger as he raised his hand. 

“How is this?” 

You took a step back and looked him over when you realized he was speaking to you, not anyone else in the room. You knew what he wanted to hear, but you couldn’t help but think that the evil king was indeed…. “Gorgeous.” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, he extended out his arm, the tip of the silver claw he wore on his finger at your neck as you instinctively lifted your chin at his gesture to avoid being poked. You weren’t really sure what he was thinking, and it was making you anxious. Had he seen through you as Epel had? Or perhaps he was cross? There were a million different ways to die in this story. There was a reason you were sent here and that was to meet a cruel end. 

“You flatter me, my retainer. I know you don’t sugarcoat words.” Vil tilted his head, analyzing you from another angle as he smiled. Unexpectedly, his soft and pale hand was placed on your cheek. You felt your heart stop, whether from fear or something else, you couldn’t be sure. “You see, proper sunlight and sleep does work miracles. You no longer have those horrid eyebags.” Lowering his hand, his smile was gone as he seemed to recall something. “You’re the only competent and trustworthy person in this entire castle, my pet, besides myself, of course. What would I do without you? Always there for me, even before I ascended to the throne. Even when my father married that awful woman that brought the perfect lovely boy that became my brother and a stain in my life…” 

After a moment of considering your response, you replied quietly, “You have always loathed Neige, haven’t you…?” The prince’s sweet words and shy smile instantly came to mind. 

Upon detecting your words, you watched his expression sour as he instantly commanded everyone, who were too far and busy to hear anyways, to leave at once. All except you. Now, you remain alone with the king. It seems like you hit a nerve with your words, and you feared what he would do to you now that the two of you were alone.

Vil took a sharp breath before raising his head to meet your eyes. Under his intense gaze, you felt small but you merely swallowed your growing restlessness and kept your lips shut as he began, “I’ve always told you that I do not want you to ever utter his name. I lost the kingdom’s people to him, my friends left me for him, even my own father was beginning to favor him! I refuse to lose you too! If that boy takes one more thing away from me––” 

“I’ve stayed this long.” You attempted, interjecting with words that you thought would fit this character you were playing. 

“Because I demanded it.” His response caught you by surprise, but what was more unnerving was what came out of his lips next. “Father accepted my request for you to become my retainer, but the woman he married did not. And so, I concocted my very own poison, more lethal than cyanide, and slipped it into her wine. You are here because I wanted you here. Of course, I never revealed that to you until now.” You were given almost no time to process his words as he changed the subject, lifting his hand to admire his silver claw rings and painted nails. “I must admit, I was beginning to become a little concerned with you hardly leaving the undercroft in recent months. I was afraid you had become dull as I kept you to myself, and you know I don’t exactly like dull people by my side. I didn’t want to toss you aside after all we’ve been through together.”

Pursing your lips, reeling from this wave of new information, you murmured, albeit unsurely, “I don’t believe I’m dull… I like to think of myself as interesting.” 

Amethyst eyes landed on you, the blonde man scrutinizing you as he gibed with a frown, “Was I asking your opinion or stating mine?” 

Staring right at him, your snarky reply is already pouring out before you can even stop it. “Well, are you asking me my opinion…?” It’s silent as his cold gaze instantly lands on you. Shit. You instantly avert your eyes downward and bow your head in apology, knowing you fucked up. This was why you kept everything to yourself. This king poisoned his own step-mother for not giving him what he wanted, he ordered the former retainer to kill six innocent candidates for his competition to become heir, and he was willing to murder his very own brother who admired and loved him. What would he do to a raven with a sharp tongue? Just as possible scenarios begin flashing in your mind and you remain bowing, you clenched your fist, prepared to unsheath your hidden sword under your cloak and fight back if necessary–– when he laughed. Vil laughed. 

It wasn’t a mocking one of ridicule, but rather an amused one. Lifting the back of his hand to his lips to partially cover his mouth, his laughing ceased. There was amusement, a wicked and eager look in his eyes as he hummed, “There’s that plucky side of you I missed so dearly!” Smiling, he reached forward, carefully tugging your hood down as he scolded lightly, “What have I said about wearing your hood around me? Especially indoors. Honestly, you never learn. I should strip you of that cloak you always stubbornly refuse to remove, that way you always show your face as you’re told.”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again…” Unsurely you kept quiet, only offering to change the subject once the king had reached over to trail his fingers along the side of your face. “If I may ask, what’s the occasion? I wasn’t notified of these ongoing preparations.” 

“A funeral.” Vil noticed how you went quiet and how your eyes widened. At your reaction, he chuckled, lowering his hand away from your face to tap his sharp finger against his chin. “Why so quiet? Don’t worry, it’s not for you. It’s merely… a preparation in advance.” Oh. You realized who it was for now. The thought of his rival dying seemed to bring the king joy as he smiled so cruelly. How morbid. Then, his attention returned back to you. It seemed he was thinking of something else now once his sights landed on some trashed envelopes in the bin, because his expression had turned to one of mild annoyance. “These suitors from afar are so bothersome. No matter how I refuse their advances, they continue with their gifts and letters filled with flattery, thinking that’ll be enough to win me over. How wrong they are. Love affairs are of no use or any interest to me…” 

You gazed at the bin chock full of paper and shattered gifts. Your voice was quiet, but it carried in the silence of the room. “It must be difficult to be so admired…” 

“Indeed it is.” Vil nodded, continuing to tap his chin thoughtfully. Those eyes on the trashed envelopes slowly made their way over to you, his slight frown morphing to an amused smile. “Although, perhaps I’ve changed my mind…” Extending his hand, you slowly and unsurely slid your left hand into his palm. Vil stepped closer, so close you could smell his sweet perfume and all you could see was him. You felt like a caged bird, cornered, as he leaned just a tad bit closer and continued to smile. However, now his smile was more teasing, but it felt wicked and dubious, “Once Neige is gone, all that time I spent being tormented and pestered by him, can now be dedicated to you. Lately, I’ve been watching you, and there’s something intriguing about you now. It’s as if you’re no longer so absorbed in your work, like you’re finally seeing me as something more than just your superior. You haven’t been brewing potions of passion in the undercroft, have you?” 

By now your face was hot, burning at his implications, by his close proximity, by the look in his eyes that made you think he may genuinely be interested but the tiny voice of reason in the back of your head waving red flags at his notions. When he suspected you were even considering looking away from his intense gaze to avoid eye contact, he squeezed your hands in warning, his nail rings pricking your skin ever so slightly. So you were forced to meet his gaze and reply awkwardly, “Of course not… I’m not you.” 

The king cackled, raising the back of his other hand to his lips again. With a tone of confidence, he did not even hesitate to respond, “Oh, you’re funny. My poor pet… I would say you’re bird-brained, but you’re not that.” He leaned his head right beside yours, until his painted lips lingered by your ear. The proximity was making you dizzy. His voice was like honey as he whispered, “I don’t need a potion to win you over––” 

“Your Majesty, our wondrous Vil!” 

Saved by the huntsman. You resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief while Vil continued to grip your hands and slowly pull away, his head turned to glare at the one who dared to interrupt the moment he was so engrossed in. It seemed he wanted to say something, but he managed to control himself as he merely hissed, “Speak.” 

During the pause, you were able to shift your gaze over to him. The huntsman was at the open window, one foot inside already and hands gripping the sides to heave himself up. Why didn’t he come through the door like a normal person? Wasn’t this room on the second floor? 

“I have to remind you of your meeting with your precious heir apparent.” Rook smiled as he fully entered through the window, seemingly paying no heed to the scene he just stumbled upon or the vexation in the king’s tone. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Releasing his hold on your hand, he sent you one last chilling glance. When he leaned closer once again to whisper in your ear, your breath hitched as he purred, “Later.” Once he stepped away, he gave you one last mesmerizing look before exiting the room. Yes, you were thankful you didn’t have to deal with the king until next time, but now you pitied Epel for having to stand his presence for hours of lecturing and scolding.  

Once the king was gone, you felt vulnerable. While he was pushing you on the edge with his advances and you knew any sign of rejection might tick him off, it was a different kind of unease now that you were alone with the huntsman who you eyed warily. By the time your eyes drifted back to him, you felt your heart rate spike as you noticed he was staring. Upon your gaze meeting his own, he merely smiled a little wider as he hummed. 

There was no way you would willingly stick around to be alone with him. 

As you slid your hood back on, prepared to take your leave as well, the huntsman’s sharp green eyes landed on the palm of your right hand that was lifted up to move your hood. For a moment, his narrowed gaze vanished and instead was replaced with a quizzical look and a curious smile. Stepping forward, he took your hand in his gloved grip, but he was careful as the tip of his finger traced the now fading injury caused by Epel’s bite. He gasped lightly.

“My, my, what kind of beast could have caused this damage that tarnished your skin? How dare they, for a creature as lovely as you to be wounded like this, why, it should be criminal!” 

You hesitate, looking down at the mark that had partially healed on its own. It wasn’t that deep anyways. “Dog.” 

Those watchful green eyes flickered up to your expression for a moment, before he chuckled and shook his head. His blonde hair swished back and forth a bit with his head movement, as he removed some gauze from his satchel. There was a hint of amusement that appeared in his smile, and while he wrapped the gauze around your hand, he spoke, “A dog? Ah, I see… But, dogs have much sharper canines that would have cut deeper into the flesh. I’ve hunted an untold amount of wildlife in my time, and encountered nearly every species in the animal kingdom. And this bite mark doesn’t match any creature that comes to mind. It’s truly odd, isn’t it? The shape of the wounds nearly looks like it was formed by something… human.” 

He knows. He knows you were lying. You go completely still, allowing him to complete what he was doing. It felt like he was purposefully taking his time in wrapping the gauze securely, as if he were going slowly just to get some sort of reaction. What was his goal? Seeing his eyes on you as he finished the task was unnerving. Could he hear your rapidly increasing heart rate? Was he able to detect the growing alarm you felt? 

At your silence, he merely shrugs and finally lowers your hand. That cursed gaze travels away as he says in a near-whisper, “Marks such as those aren’t meant for the hand, they’d do nicely elsewhere though.” 

“What?” 

“Ah, forgive me, I haven’t apologized for my sudden earlier intrusion between yourself and His Majesty.” Was he seriously going to gloss over what he said as if it were nothing? Now he was back to his positive demeanor. Although his smile was different now, it seemed more harmless, that didn’t do much to place you at ease in the slightest. “It wasn’t my intention to barge in! But I will admit, while the sight was exquisite and it was the very picture of romance, I did feel a twinge of jealousy.” 

Did the huntsman like the king like that…? For a moment, your heartbeat steadied as you got a hold of your composure. Honestly, that moment with Vil is probably the first and last you’ll ever get to a romantic moment with a gorgeous person. “Oh, was it because of me?” 

You were about to put out a quick and simple apology, but you didn’t get a verbal response. No. Rook only smiled with mirth, his eyes glimmering with amusement appeared to narrow again as he crossed his arms. At his lack of a reply, you feel right on the edge once again, your heart rate picking up immediately again. 

“... You were jealous of the situation I was in with His Majesty, right…?” 

There was no response yet again. However, the bridge of his nose crinkled slightly as his shoulders shook with the quiet laughter that came out of him. Much like before, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he continues to speak as if this were nothing but mere pleasant conversation. “I must admit, it is always a joy to see you. I must have done something favorable by lady luck, because our paths continue to cross much more frequently. Ah, I’d like to share with you something I experienced. Just a few hours ago, I happened across writing and I could not help but be reminded of your being which remains shrouded in mystery. I believe it went something like…” Rook cleared his throat as he recited somewhat dramatically, “This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing. To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core. Ah, those fiery eyes of yours are exactly what I envisioned in my mind as I read those poem’s lines…! To finally be the one who those focused eyes lay upon––” “Are you done? I’m busy.” You interject, managing to keep an even tone and stoic expression, but it was difficult considering that you just could not relax around the huntsman. You did not forget how he didn’t answer the question about jealousy, which made you nervous as you imagined the possibility that maybe he wasn’t jealous of you with Vil. 

Not offended by the curt response, Rook only continued positively. Not only was his reaction, or rather lack of one, very slightly annoying, it was worrying. Most people would have been surprised and maybe even upset by the interruption, but he didn’t appear negatively affected in the slightest. You couldn’t predict his behavior, and that alone was cause for concern. “Forgive me, I’m simply thrilled to finally be holding a proper conversation with you! Normally by now you would have turned heel and walked away, which is why I currently think you are particularly bewitching these past few days. It’s as if the fog around you that you used to cloak your most private secrets and puzzling nature has passed but been replaced by a thicker cloud of fog. You’re an enigma. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

In that moment you held your breath and you felt your blood run cold. Automatically your mind drifted to the weight of the sword on your back. It was heavy, heavier than his dagger and more useful at this proximity than his bow. However, pulling out a sword against him was counterproductive when he was a vital part of the catalyst that sparked the sequence of events that would eventually lead to the story’s ending. 

Considering your options, allowing the villains to live and perhaps even assisting them in the end would weigh in your favor. Afterall, you had yet to see any prince or princess for Neige, which meant things were already changing whether you liked it or not. Say a good ending was achieved where the pretty protagonist prince lived happily ever after. What would this get for you? It wouldn’t be the happy ending you knew in the fairytale if there was no royal on horseback to save Neige after he bites the poisoned apple. Should you somehow help him achieve a good ending, then what? Would he live with the seven dwarves in a cottage for the rest of his life or marry and inherit a crown? What could he offer you? On the other hand, Vil already had the crown, wealth, and power. These living conditions were quite nice when you didn’t have much to do, and if you ever felt threatened, running away with a bag stuffed with gold from the treasury would be easy. 

Perhaps being the beautiful king’s raven wasn’t so bad, all things considered. This was a hell you may be able to adjust to and accept as your punishment. 

“I like when people speak frankly, not in riddles.” You respond calmly, despite the racing of your heart. Responding was a risk, but ignoring his words wasn’t any safer. It made sense as to why he was a hunter, because at the moment you were cornered and he hadn’t so much as removed a single arrow from his quiver. 

Rook, again, only smiled ominously. It didn’t feel like he had malicious intent, but you still felt like you were in danger, you still felt threatened. He could, metaphorically speaking, pull the trigger at any second and you would be dead. As if he saw through you and knew all your secrets. All he was doing now was baiting you for another word, another sentence, another phrase, any slightest sound or action that was a slip-up leading to more information falling into the palm of his hands. Maybe that’s why he didn’t respond. Either that, or you were thinking way too deeply and the paranoia was starting to consume your mind. You wanted to believe it was the former and you weren’t quite insane yet. 

Finally, he chuckled, amused as he crossed his arms over his chest and peered at you with his forest green eyes. You could only imagine how terrifying he was when he was truly in his element, when he shed formalities and used the weapons strapped to him. “Your eyes speak a million words, and your actions paint a most curious story! Tell me, little raven, what words do you have for me?” 

Were you seriously participating unwillingly in this dangerous dance with the very man that served Vil? Rook was his huntsman, he was to hide no secrets from His Majesty and carry out his will. And it felt like Rook knew everything he wasn’t supposed to know.

It could have been the adrenaline and fear you felt in this current moment underneath the composed facade that formed the words in your head. Clutching your wrapped hand to your chest, you took a breath. You really were just like a wounded animal he was seconds from ensnaring. Although you wouldn’t hesitate to lash out. Ravens were known for plucking out eyes. The answer came too fast, “You won’t be able to do it. You can’t kill the prince.” 

Upon hearing your words, Rook appeared surprised, but it was only momentarily. Only a second or two of shock, before his bewilderment morphed into satisfaction. Like he had just won and caught the quarry. “Ah, how wonderful! So, you have decided to impart your knowledge upon me just as you have to Epel! I feel truly privileged!” 

You froze in place. You never once mentioned anything to Rook about what you knew from the story, and you trusted that Epel would keep his mouth shut. So how did he know? 

It’s like that piercing gaze of his could see directly into your mind, as if he could hear your very inner thoughts. As you remained stagnant in shock, waiting to see who would be the brave soul to make the first move, he spoke amicably, answering the question you never voiced. “Even the walls have ears. It is my duty to serve His Majesty in any way I can, so of course no whispers or rumors escape me.” Then, his smile turned sad and disappeared, that jovial tone diminished to a quiet whisper, “But, you are correct. I cannot do it.” 

You raised an eyebrow at his words, processing his confession. Seeing the huntsman with his head lowered toward you, was exactly like in storybook book pages that depicted a humble huntsman bowing before a princess to beg for forgiveness. It's possible that maybe the huntsman wasn’t evil, afterall, he would be the one to spare the innocent royal. Maybe he had a heart, a good one. But you didn’t. 

“Why? You can hunt animals and drag seven innocent people here to involuntarily compete for the crown. And you knew six of those seven were to die, didn’t you?” You crossed your own arms after making sure the black hood was securely over your head. 

Catching a glimpse of his somber frown, you knew his answer would remain unchanging. He did not have the guts to go forth and stain his hands red with the blood of an innocent prince. “I… I did not know they would perish. I truly thought they would be set free.” 

You sigh, contemplating your next actions. You truly didn’t want to harm Neige either, even if Vil despised him with all his heart, mind, and soul. However, the highest chances of you avoiding a terrible fate and achieving some sort of wonderful life, could only be accomplished if the Evil King received a good ending. That could only happen if the prince was dead, as Vil would only be deemed the fairest one of all once his rivals were vanquished. “Fine then, if you cannot do it, I’ll do it myself.” 

Rook, apparently temporarily shocked, was stunned by the resolve in your own words. He searched for any wavering determination before he tried to smile once more. For now he lowered his feathered hat to his chest as he spoke and stretched out an inviting hand, “Let’s not talk such dreary things. Please, there’s a lovely view at the top of the palace where you might perhaps tell me more about this story. I’m awfully curious, and it just might help me finally understand you better.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

It became clear after that fateful evening that Rook knew every happening that occurred in the palace and in the nearby town. There was no possible way to keep it secret, so you told him the basics such as that this was a story and he was a character within the tale, but you decided it best to tell him no more than that. It would be optimal to give him no upper hand at all. It was then promised that he wouldn’t share this information, and you made doubly sure to emphasize the fact that you would make certain that he received a bad ending if he were to betray your trust. However, the eccentric huntsman only laughed in amusement at your threat. What a weirdo. 

Well, at the very least, Rook was not the only one keeping tabs on happenings within the palace. That was what you had Epel for, he was useful in giving up information when it was needed. Even if he was formerly a peasant boy, he was no idiot. He never gave anything for free, it was a trade of knowledge which you didn’t entirely mind. There were lots of useless story details and scenes you could give up, such as the existence of the dwarves and the cottage in the woods. Besides, at the rate this story was shifting, those characters nor settings would no longer be necessary. 

But one day, Epel brought a very interesting account that could potentially change everything. 

Within the private training room where the king’s valued heir took fencing lessons, the door was abruptly slammed open, and there stood the said heir looking particularly ruffled. Manners tossed aside by how harshly he opened the door and flung it shut behind him, he ripped his cloak off his shoulders and chucked it aside as if it weren’t a carefully tailored cloth and instead a wash rag. Etiquette forgotten from his countless hours of learning it, he spoke naturally in his odd and difficult to understand dialect. “Vil’s pitchin’ a hissy fit with a tail on it! I was nearabout ready to come back, figured you’re way better than listening to all them uppity folk––” 

You stopped, lowering the new lighter and sharper sword you exchanged for the old one you carried on your back. He spoke so quickly and said so many words that went completely over your head, you had to give him a look as you interrupted his talking, “English, Felmier.” 

Freezing in his tracks, he groaned and repeated in a clearer, simpler manner, “Vil is mad. There. You happy?” 

“Then say so.” 

“I did!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. Epel continued, but thankfully not in his natural dialect. Although it was evident that he was still peeved about something. “There was some girl that showed up, a princess or something, and she asked for an audience with Vil! I happened to overhear, everyone was raving thinkin’ that it was just another princess asking for the king’s hand, but when she was talkin’ to Vil, she asked for Neige’s hand!” 

The prince. It was the prince, now princess, that was originally supposed to be the one that Prince Neige fell in love with. The arrival of the princess would certainly throw a wrench in the plan. Why had it taken her so long to show up when you had already believed that they would no longer be involved within the tale? 

The lavender-haired former farmer boy, paced back and forth in this wide training space. Usually he’d take an interest in the fencing equipment, it was one of the few lessons he actually enjoyed and took part in without so much stubborn complaints or begrudging behavior. But right now, he was far too troubled to even think about fencing. “When Vil summoned Neige to meet the princess, he turned her down! Said somethin’ about having feelings already for someone within the palace. Well, whoever it was, Vil must’ve known, because he nearly went haywire right then and there!” Stopping his steps, he turned to you and went on accusingly, “You know who it is, don’t you? Spit it out!” 

“It’s me…” This could not be happening–– You never were supposed to gain the affection of that pure-hearted prince! Now, Vil likely figured out who his step-brother had eyes for, and this would not bide well with his envious nature. 

Those big blue eyes of his widened in shock. “What?!” 

Neige had to be gone and fast. But how could one make a prince disappear? It wasn’t as if he could be done with and escape the consequences. The royal was beloved by the citizens far too much, should they learn that he was murdered, things would quickly become problematic. There could be no raising a blade against him. Unless… an accident of sorts was staged. 

Suddenly, you’re reminded of the image of a delicious red apple, a tool to the original plot that becomes the princess’ demise. Perhaps you didn’t have to stray too far from the plot after all. However, someone would have to take the blame once the deed was done. “Is the princess still here?” 

Confused by the inquiry but nodding in response, Epel looked even more baffled than before. “Yeah, but why do you care? What’s she got to do with this? Don’t tell me she’s somebody important.” 

If staying with Vil was the quickest and easiest route where a good ending for yourself was more certain, then you’d take it. No princess or prince would get in the way, and you would use Epel to help secure the ending. Even if some persuasion was needed, since you knew he didn’t have much of an appreciation for the current king. Lowering your blade on the table, you left it behind as you approached him, close enough to place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eye. Close enough so he could hear the whisper that came from your lips, so quiet that not even a mouse in the walls could detect what was said, only he could hear these words. “We are going to assassinate Prince Neige.” 

Epel gazed at you with pure disbelief, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth open a gape in bewilderment. “But that’s Rook’s––” 

“Rook can’t be counted on.” You counter. At the moment, you were unsure if Rook could really go through and murder the prince with his own two hands. You’ve trusted him enough with your own secrets, but you certainly didn’t trust him with your fate.

The heir appeared to contemplate it. The atmosphere had turned somber, like he was seriously considering it. Not just anyone could stomach the knowledge, but he appeared to be processing it just fine. That is, until he suggested something that surprised even you. “Why not just, change the target to someone of higher power and just… you know.” He made a swift slicing motion over his neck. You knew exactly what he meant, and who he meant. “That way, we’d both be free.” 

“It’s not guaranteed to work. Killing a king would be more difficult than killing a prince that the king wants dead anyways.” You point out that simple fact. There were constantly guards around the king like worker bees following their queen. However, here on palace grounds, most avoided the prince as they knew interacting with him was a quick and easy way to make the king bitter. This made Neige vulnerable. 

A frown appeared on his lovely face, etched on like a pout. While his look may be an endearing one, his voice did not say the same. By his tone, he sounded unsure, maybe even a tad bit annoyed as he accused, “You forgot, I don’t give a damn about the crown! If that happened, it would mean that I’ll definitely end up taking Vil’s place one day.” 

“I didn’t forget.” You reply instantly, using logic to convince him that this was the best option available. “You forget how vain his majesty is. Vil will never give up the crown willingly. The only time he’ll give it up, is when he’s old and gray and on his deathbed. By then, you’d either be long gone on to freedom, or have figured out some other way to handle the matter in whatever way you want. As for me, I don’t care who’s king, as long as I get to live and be happy.” You could visibly see the gears turning in his head as he heard your words. You add more to pressure him further and make him see reason. “Like it or not, you’re involved. In whatever way this ends, just remember, the citizens of this kingdom will likely not be so kind to you if word ever reached them that you were the chosen heir of the king, a king that abused the precious prince. Even if you didn’t participate directly, the fact still stands that you’re connected to Vil. If Neige receives his happily ever after, everything may end alright, or it may not, but I can’t guarantee your safety in that case. That’s why I suggest getting rid of him now, and placing the blame on someone else.” 

“Someone else… They’ll never suspect us. This is insane, I mean, I don’t care for that guy but… me, you, us––” He slapped his hand over his mouth, moving it up towards his hair. The young man looked so stressed that he was about ready to pull out his lavender curls. And yet, there wasn’t really anger. Mild irritation maybe, but not anger, and something else was there. Something foreign to you. “I’d kill for you, you’d kill for me.” 

Ah, maybe. Maybe not. It depended on the situation, but he didn’t need to know that. Although it was reassuring to hear that he was most definitely an ally that would help to achieve your goal. 

His small hands remained on his scalp, tangled in his hair, gripping his own head as he raved, “Don’t tell me you’ve been learnin’ all that potions stuff from the king! It feels like I’m going crazy, havin’ these unnatural thoughts I never had before–– I’ve been imagining things. I want to get out of this dump, but I imagined runnin’ away with you, showing you my village, introducing you to my ma and everyone else back home! Then forgetting everyone else in this stupid place!” 

Those big blue eyes gazed right at you, scanning your face that he’s come to actually grow fond of. Out of everyone in this hell, he actually liked your company, craved it even. There’s no one else here on palace grounds that he would willingly talk to without grumbling about it. Even if it began with the original retainer, his trust grew with you, the imposter. 

“It’s all your damn fault…! But I’m not mad, I can’t be, even though I want to spit and punch you for this but at the same time I don’t wanna hurt you. Just, tell me right now, to my face. Tell me it’s stupid and I’m actin’ dumb so I quit it!” 

You nod, a bit stunned by the outburst. However, you had other plans in mind. “Keep it up.” 

By now maybe it was giving him false hope at an ending he dreamed of, but he was still useful to you. So for now, you ignored his look of shock and pink on his cheeks as you pried his hand off his head and he lowered his other hand to his side. 

The plan was simple really, it would be far too easy if you could actually manage to pull it off. “I’m telling you this, because you will have to help me guide the princess in the right direction. Talk to her, steer the conversation to romance. If she’s smart, she’ll ask you for advice assuming you know Neige. Suggest giving a gift. Once everything is over, then we can think about your hometown.” 

There was still shock on his face, as if he was still struggling a bit to process everything that was coming out of your mouth. It seemed like it was a lot, as one of his dainty hands held your hand tightly while his other hand gripped part of the cloth of his shirt, his knuckles turning white from the strength behind his grip. “I thought you were kinda cool. Not as annoying as Rook or Vil or anyone else, and I wanted to escape with you…! But this murder plan just makes it seem like you’re exactly like that old raven that you replaced, but for some stupid reason I still can’t not like you.”

“It will technically not be murder. In a way… It’s complicated.” 

There were apple trees at the very corner of the royal grounds. A basket of fruit would be a sweet and kind gesture with unsuspecting maliciousness intertwined. All that was needed was to take the apple that would be picked, poison it as the beautiful queen did in the original tale, and place it back in the basket that the princess would offer to the prince. Poisoning it as it was done in the fairytale, wouldn’t truly kill Niege. It would merely place him under a death like sleep, with the chance that he may one day wake up several years in the future long after we are gone. Because really, Neige didn’t truly deserve death. However, even if he was to never wake up, at least he would be in a dream and avoid a brutal end by his jealous step-brother. 

“But there’s only one person who can make the poison we need for this to succeed…” 

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The plan had to be enacted before Rook could take Neige to pick flowers. Luckily, or unluckily for you, a request for an audience with the king was not even needed. Before you could even search for him as you were rereading pages of the heavy tome in the undercroft, there was the creaking of the wooden door that signaled someone entering the dungeon beneath the palace. 

Hardly anyone else ventured down here, and by the clicking of heels against the stone floors, it became obvious of who it was. Your theories were only confirmed true when you felt a presence behind you, peering over your shoulder as the delightfully familiar voice that filled you with unease greeted kindly, “My dear retainer.” 

Instantly you felt your body stiff and rigid, feeling uncertain under his gaze. You were many things, but often fearful wasn’t one of them. This story was just filled with characters that made you tense, the king being the one that troubled you the most. Despite all this, you managed to remain polite, only turning your head to nod at him with respect. “Your Majesty. It’s a surprise to see you down here.” 

“I could say the same. Didn’t I specifically instruct you to stay aboveground for the time being?” It sounded like a scolding, but it was nowhere near as harsh as one. In fact, it sounded more like gentle chastising. Not at all like the harsh criticism and stern reprimanding he gave to anyone else. Not another word came about that before his amethyst eyes landed on the pages you were reading. “Poison apple. You weren’t by chance planning to assassinate me with that, were you? That’s not nearly enough poison to eliminate me. Haven’t you heard of mithridatism?” 

Mithridatism? Did he practice that? It’s a good thing that you ultimately did not choose the path of killing him, as he likely would have proven much more difficult than any other target. If you had attempted to take his life and it failed, you could only imagine how frightful the king would become in his rage at your betrayal. The mere thought made you shudder.

It wasn’t easy to focus when he was directly behind you, his chest practically against your back as he continued reading over your shoulder. “Not you… I was considering this for the prince. I believe that I’m the only one that can stomach handling this, not the huntsman.” 

“Interesting… and why did you choose the poison apple?” To think that the beautiful man that currently had his chin on your shoulder, would probably be an wretched old peddler with wrinkled skin and hair white as snow, if the story had stayed on course. It was plausible that the beautiful queen turning herself ugly just to kill her rival was an analogy of sorts for the hideousness of her personality. And yet, when the king who was based on that very character was in your presence, yes he was vile and cruel but he was rather fair to you. Especially when he expressed a sort of tenderness in his smile and looked down at you through his long lashes. 

“It’s a special sort of death.” Upon reading through most of the pages of the thick leather tome, you discovered that a huge majority of the deadly spells had antidotes and ways to be reversed. Many were easy to reverse, some were harder, but the most difficult antidote to receive was for those that ate the poisoned apple. It was no wonder the evil queen originally chose it, as it was only by chance that the prince awoke the princess with true love’s first kiss. “Not easy to find an antidote for.” 

“Hm…” His head continued to linger on your shoulder, his lips and part of his nose buried by the cloth on your shoulder as his watchful gaze remained stuck on you through his half-lidded eyes. At such a close proximity with his face literally inches from yours, you didn’t dare turn your head, but in your peripheral vision you could make out the black mascara and smokey light eyeshadow that accentuated his fine features. Even without the use of makeup, he was sure to be stunning. “As expected, you dally away precious time. However, there’s a princess…” 

“So I’ve heard.” Your response was careful, as this conversation was quickly approaching dangerous territory. From what was told to you by Epel, after the princess arrived, Vil summoned Neige to speak about it when the young oblivious prince admitted he loved someone within the palace. Vil knew who, you knew. As this conversation progressed, you would have to choose your words carefully. It would be like walking in a minefield. 

It started, you realized, as his fond gaze slowly shifted to something a little more cold. While you couldn’t see his mouth due to the position he was in, you guessed he wasn’t smiling lightly in content and intrigue like before. “Then I assume you know of the prince’s… let’s call it, an insignificant crush.” 

“Yes…” A crush may not be the term Neige would have preferred. The prince would have likely used flowery language akin to the type seen in romantic novels read in the middle ages. But you weren’t going to fret over the small details. Stoically you replied, “If you desire it done, I can be rid of both the prince and princess. An apple for the prince, and a jail cell for the princess.” 

Vil raised a carefully plucked blonde eyebrow, his careful vigilance turning to astonished curiousness as he connected the dots with the clues given by your words. He seemed to understand, and take delight in your response as he nodded against your shoulder. “This is why you’re my favorite.” 

Averting your gaze down to the parchment paper in the tome, you placed your palm against the surface and read off ingredients that were needed. None of which you understood. Not that you would even attempt making something so potent. In the middle of your reading, you felt arms snake around your waist, rendering you motionless as if being paralyzed by some other poison he could’ve used. 

By your ear you felt his warm breath, and his arms were surprisingly strong as he held you tightly, preventing you from going anywhere. The words he spoke in his feathery voice felt like they tickled the side of your neck and caused a shiver to go down your spine. Was it fear or was it pleasure? “… You could finally use those funeral preparations you made in advance.”

“True… This type of poison could be made with ease by me, it merely requires patience as the brew seeps through the simmering apple. It will take some hours. There are many different poisons, but one of this caliber that requires magic is most lethal. And yet, it looks so delicious. Entrancing and deadly, my favorite combination.” One of his hands roamed up to your neck, his well-manicured nails and soft fingers casually resting on your throat. There was this creeping feeling that he wasn’t talking about the poisoned apple anymore. Externally you remained cool and level-headed, but internally you felt your breath still in that moment as your heart picked up speed. And it was like he saw all these signs on you, reading you like an open book. “The breath will still, the heart will beat rapidly in those final moments…” 

You know he didn’t poison you, but it felt as if you were sick with something that was worse than poison. You shifted in place, keeping your breathing even. Never once have you prepared for a situation like this. Removing your hands from the tome, you lowered them over his knuckle, one of his own hands still around your waist like a belt. The intention was to attempt to pry off his hands, at least, that’s what you think you were trying to accomplish, but Vil took it as an invitation to continue. 

A hum like a purr came from him as he moved his head closer, so his lips were practically at the exposed flesh of your neck. And yet, he didn’t move. You remained as still as a statue, while he murmured in a quiet and confident tone that slowly morphed into something pleading and desperate. “Nevermore will you, my previous retainer, have to stray from me again. Once he is gone, everything will be made right. There will be none left worthy of your companionship, except for me. I will be your sole companion. So do not leave…” 

You felt a tremor throughout your body as he placed a lingering kiss against your neck, his soft lips by your jaw before he pulled away. Not even far enough so you could see his face, he only moved his head away an inch, as if even the thought of being physically apart right now was too much to bear. 

His arms around your torso tightened, and your back was pressed flush against his chest. His voice was low and intoxicating, this was dangerous. “For now, you’ll assist me in making the poisoned apple. While we wait a few hours for it to simmer and absorb the toxic qualities in the cauldron, we’ll be spending some… quality time together, my pet.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The next morning, you awoke slowly, feeling groggy and tired, until everything came rushing back and you sat upright in alarm. You were in the familiar bedroom that once belonged to the retainer you replaced. However, there was a slight warmth on the other half of the mattress, as if someone had just been laying beside you and left not too long ago. 

On the wall as you sat up, you could see your reflection in the mirror, the messy bedhead and tired looking eyes, but also the slightest traces of red lipstick stains on your neck and across parts of your face. 

You had zero time to process what had happened before you spotted the shiny red apple on the counter with a small note beside it. The note simply read, For your mission. Wash your face once you wake up.

It took almost no time at all to get dressed and prepared, and wash your face. By now, Epel should already be speaking to the princess, advising her to attempt to appeal to the prince by picking fruit from the garden and gifting it to the royal she loved. Your task now was to simply add the poisoned apple when no one was looking. 

As you opened the door, you noticed a shadow and quickly hid the apple in a pocket of your long black cloak, just as familiar blonde locks and forest green eyes came into view. You closed the door behind you, as you were greeted by a welcoming smiling and that accented voice that bid good morning. 

“Ah, petit corbeau! What a fine day, isn’t it?” Immediately your gaze went to his expression and his hands, your ears keenly listening to his tone of voice. It didn’t appear as if he were hiding anything. There was no somberness to his voice, no frown on his face, and no red staining his hands. Although, the good killers always washed their hands clean of the evidence. 

For now, you don’t bother asking why he was outside of your room. Knowing Rook, he’d probably say some flattering words with an unsettling meaning hidden within his ornate speech. Right now, you would much rather not have to dwell on that for too long when a royal was to die soon. For now, all you do is remind him of your previous words towards him, “You couldn’t do it. So, knowing you somehow overheard what’s to happen today, is this your attempt to stop me?” You were quiet, making sure not to be overheard, only so he could hear your warning and see your cold gaze. “Know that if you try to stop me, that will be a form of treason against His Majesty.” 

That smile turned into a more bleak one, as he struggled to keep up the corners of his lips. He knew what was to happen, of course he did. It was as he said, he knew everything that transpired within the palace grounds. “Ah, I would love to see the raven ruffled up.” He joked lightly before adding in a more serious tone, “Ravens are most commonly associated with bringing the unfortunate news of a passing. As much as I dream of seeing you in your element, I just wish it wasn’t… him. I’d much rather it be me than him, even if being the victim was the only way to catch a glimpse into your true nature and to have your attention solely focused on me.” 

You leered at him, deciding not to take out your blade. Rook was a weirdo, but he most certainly wasn’t a killer. You couldn’t imagine him outright attacking you, even now as he knew that the beloved prince would die either way. “I’ll cut you down too if you get in my way.” 

Unexpectedly, Rook removed his hat and held it to his chest. He gazed at you like how an artist would admire the treasured painting of the beautiful Mona Lisa, as he bowed his head to you, exposing the back of his neck as his blonde hair shifted with his movement. “From you? I would consider it the greatest honor bestowed on me.” 

You merely moved around him, your cloak brushing past him. Even after Neige was dead, Rook would be cause for concern. But you would worry about him then, right now you had an apple in your cloak, a princess to frame, and a prince to assassinate. 

As it turned out, planting the ripe red apple at the top of the basket was the easiest part. It was simple, when the princess had left the basket of freshly picked fruits unattended. Perhaps the worst part was waiting. Waiting to hear when it would happen, when the prince would take that bite that would seal his fate. Part of you wondered if he might dream of you. Afterall, he seemed to have this idealized version of you in his head. So it was possible, but it’s not like you would ever know. 

For now, you appeared as you were told when you were later summoned by the king to the gardens where you emerged after exiting the undercroft on your first day here. Now, you were currently strolling through the private gardens of the palace grounds together, as if you hadn’t both planned murder. Any moment now, you expected a servant to come rushing, the palace would be overrun with commotion once the poisoned apple was consumed. If there were any remnants of the fruit left, you had instructed Epel to dispose of it in the midst of the chaos when no one would notice. 

But right now, it was quiet. A peaceful tranquil quiet, where you could look up at the sky and sun and feel its warmth. One where you were free. Even if you could never return home, perhaps living in this world was better. Should you ever need to, you could always escape the beautiful king. But this was a plan you would keep to yourself. 

Vil remained beside you, looking as elegant as ever with his robes and crown perched atop his skull. Like a peacock promenading in the yards of a private estate. There was one thing that confused you in this story. As angelic as Neige was, and as rotten as the king’s personality might have been, the mirror must’ve been blind if it insisted that Vil was not the fairest of them all. 

The King looked over at you, a pretty smile adorning his face when he saw your eyes on him, just as he liked it. Keeping his hands folded in front of him, the pair stopped beside the well. Since he had dismissed his guards to be alone with you, there was no one else to hear or see what went on between you and him. Those amethyst eyes were no longer so chilling but still more than enough to put you on the edge. “Tell me, my dear, how long were you planning to keep me in the dark?” 

You remained still, confused at his words. What was this about? He seemed content, but what did he mean by this? There was a sneaking suspicion and fear in the back of your mind, but you played it cool as you leaned on the well with your arms on the smooth rocky edge. “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.” 

A brief chuckle came from him as he reached over, his thumb rubbing against your cheek and his fingers grazing along your jaw. “You’re amusing.” Abruptly, faster than you can anticipate it, you felt a sharp edge against your throat, not piercing flesh but close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to avoid being cut. It was a knife. 

Your breath hitched. You made no sudden movements, no reaching for your own blade or trying to grab his wrist, because in a single instance he could end you now and that would be the end to your story. Everything you did to get here and set up a decent life, would be utterly useless if you were dead. Taking a deep breath, you purse your lips before holding up your hands to show you had nothing to strike back. “What are you doing, Your Majesty? After everything I did to assist you?” 

The knife was small, compact, decorated with small jewels as shiny as it was sharp. It was small enough to easily be hidden in his robes, but honed enough to easily end you here just as the judges intended for you to go out. “You were useful, but… when it’s just me and my retainer, my trusted retainer refers to me as Vil not Your Majesty.” 

You felt your blood run cold. He knew, this entire time? From the moment you encountered him, did he realize by your use of formalities, or did he figure it out sometime afterward? You’d been played. 

A knowing smile graced his lips once he took in your shock, one of the first clear expressions on your face in so long. Normally you were so composed, it felt like an accomplishment to break that poised demeanor, to see the horror dawn on your face as you were reminded of the judgment that had been cast, of the hell you were in that was veiled by gorgeous folk and the chance at a free life.

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and winced, anticipating the feeling of the blade running through your throat, there was a shriek. A shrill shriek from a woman, the sound sent a chill running down your spine and raised goosebumps on your skin. You anticipated the red spilling from your own neck, but there wasn’t a drop.

The knife was removed from your skin as Vil hummed, not really paying attention to the distant sound of servants scrambling to check on the source of the sound that must’ve come up from one of the upper floors of the palace. “It appears like it’s finally happened.” 

There was no need for further explanation to understand what he meant. The scream must’ve come from the princess who witnessed Prince Neige collapse after taking a bite of the apple. In seconds, guards of the palace will arrive at the crime scene, they’ll see the beloved prince trapped in a sleeping death on the ground and the princess beside him will be the only culprit. It’s done… And yet now, you now had to grapple with Vil knowing you were not who you pretended to be this entire time. 

“I didn’t know you were close.” The raven should’ve been apprehensive of the evil queen that tormented them. Were you wrong? Was their shared history different from the tale? 

“I lied. Please, I’m no imbecile. I think it’s a bit rude that you never properly introduced yourself, but I forgive you considering the unique circumstances.” Expertly he twirled the dagger between his long fingers, while he didn’t even have to focus on his hand to do so. The entire time he stared at you, a smile on his curved lips. “Did you think me a fool that I could be so easily tricked? I had known them for several years, but I must admit, I like you better.” His left arm was crossed over his torso, propping up the right arm that held the knife and casually pointed it at you. “All they did in recent years was hole themself up in the undercroft, but you, you’re plucky, brave, funny too.”

You felt partially numb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–– Everything was going so perfect! Why did he have to know? Was it too late to escape? Could you try and run now that things were turning south, or was it worth staying? Judging by the look in the king’s eyes, staying was likely not the best idea. A caged raven was not a happy one. 

“If you’re honest to me, I’m honest to you. I only tricked you, because you foolishly believed yourself to be playing me this entire time, hm? Don’t mistake my intentions though, because I am fond of you. All those sweet words, whispered promises, and love I gave you was all real.” The tip of the dagger was against your chin, and the beautiful blonde king peered down at you through his lashes. Raising the fingers of his freehand, he lightly traced his sharp nails over the side of your face. The next words came in a quiet voice, stern and serious, vaguely threatening but also with the promise of sweetness. 

“However, I don’t appreciate the idea of you flying away. Fret not. You’ll be well taken care of, and loved more than any little prince with a crush could love you… You wanted him dead, isn’t that so? Well, we killed him. There is nothing more for you to be afraid of. So now, I want you to tell me about where you come from, why you wanted him dead, and what you wish for. No matter what you desire, I will see to it that you have it so long as you remain by my side permanently. Reintroduce yourself, from the top, my Darling Retainer.”

[lustlovehart]

Might've sent this already but I saw it in my notes while looking for something, so just ignore if you've already seen it.

Can you imagine the reader getting sick while they're with the monsters? I can imagine Riddle and Cater being utterly helpless trying to get to Trey, Ace or Deuce as soon as they realize it. Oh after getting us the proper care I can imagine Riddle inch his spectral hand close to our forehead to cool even a bit of our fever. I don't know how zombies work that much but I'm all for pathetic boys so I can imagine their limbs coming off while trying to carry us inside if they couldn't find Trey immediately.

Out of Octavinelle boys the only one who'd have much knowledge about humans would be Azul and if he is out to get whatever plants/medicine necessary in his limited human form, tweels would be a disaster let's be honest they don't see sick things in the sea cuz those creatures usually die so quickly from the harsh environment so they are out of their element, their cold skin might help with fever but too much would make it even worse. I can see Floyd trying to squeeze us to make it better but after seeing it made us nauseous he just stops. Jade is trying to remember his land facts with a serious face all the while.

Sickness Kills, Sickness no more

Another adorable idea!! I really don’t know what else to add on it as I could really see what you said about how they react!!! (≧◡≦) ♡. If it’s a simple cold, i’m sure you could just tough it out and they would never notice. Buut, if it’s genuinely something detrimental to your health, they begin to notice and panic. I thought this was cute and wrote something up! I really wanted to write Chenya in this post, but after those few Chenya asks in the past, current;t struggling on what to make him😭 Will it be kitsune or nekomata, a struggle indeed 😞

CW: (Heavy) Obsession, Jealousy, Rook is being a weirdo, Reader Has a high fever, They want to turn you into a monster too, They change your clothes for you, Implied/Wanting Murder and Actual murder (Fellow, Neige and Skully)

Featuring: Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw (Jack mentioned), Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Idia, Diasmonia, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige

Heartslaybul might be the best location to fall ill actually! As all of them are formerly human, unlike the others. But… that just aids them in their guilt so it might have backfired for them. Riddles' experience as a Doctor has him feeling the most responsible for your well-being. How utterly careless… he let you get sick. What would his mother think of him? What will you think of him?

Ace and Deuce are practically rushing around to grab whatever Riddle orders for your health. When they find themself not fetching stuff and standing by your side, Ace is cursing you to stay alive, even without magic, he’ll find a way. Deuce is placing his forehead on yours, hoping his cool (dead) skin will calm down that fever. When your warmth reminds him of his failures, all he can do is sit by your side and hope you’ll say anything to him.

Trey stands next to you, being the one who moniters your body temperature when Riddle is incapable of taking human form. He’ll be silent attempting to calm everyone down, but he can’t be very useful in that regard when the bolts in his neck trickle electricity every now and then (he has shocked everyone else from stress) or even when his limbs fall out of place fromte pressure, though not nearly enough as Deuce’s; they continue to detach and crawl over to you, their own mind having them pat your head or hold your hand.

Cater… Is very scarce in this case. As you heave in your hot and cold body, you think he doesn’t care very much, which you don’t mind, everyone else is much too worried. Little do you know Cater was given the special mission of collecting life force if you end up falling to this disease. He’s determined to do just that. They’ll have everything prepared for your new afterlife. When he comes back, you can only quirk a brow at the smile he has on his false face.

It was only a backup plan… But your laugh, the way the sun hits you reminds them you’re just a frail human. Perhaps… It’d be better if you’d never have to suffer in that mortal body. Stay forever in the shadows of this hospital.

Savanaclaw is only a third qualified, as Ruggie has never been human, and Leona was cared for by other people whenever he was ill. Their biggest problem when you fall sick is they don’t really have the proper knowledge nor materials to deal with it, unlike Heartslaybul who consists of all humans, and quite literally reside in a hospital.

When your heaves grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, Leona rests you on his tomb (if you were conscious you would’ve freaked out at him, but luckily, you’re not), taking whatever water they can salvage from Savanaclaw, they try their best to cool your fever down. The pale wraps Leona already has on your body increase in quantity, acting as makeshift blankets while he brushes your fevered face.

Meanwhile Ruggie is the one who makes mad dashes around people houses, stealing whatever possible fix there is for illnesses. When Leona is busy cooling you down within whatever his power gives, Ruggie takes his place by your side tending to your every need, albeit with confusion.

If even for a moment you cough a little too hard, or even breath too rough, their backup plan in case all fails comes closer. Though, this backup plan would be their first, if it wasn’t for a certain—hunter… Telling them you’d hate them for all time. But even then, what’s affection if a little hate isn’t there? In truth, they wouldn't mind if you despised them, as long as you’re safe.

Then again, the act of them taking the vitality of innocents for your survival, would no doubt put guilt in your heart.

When you get better, all they can think about when they look at you is how they won’t be there when you really need assistance… What better way than to leave you in this tomb with a mummy?? After all, those bandages are the only sliver of protection you have from being killed so easily… Perhaps they should ask him, how to make you stay for eternity.

Octavinelle is the exact opposite of Heartslaybul it’s actually kinda funny. (Not to them, oh goodness how do they help fevers?!?). You being sick is one of the few times Jade’s so serious, the lack of double-sided compliments scaring you more than your fever. While Floyd is desperately squeezing the cold from his body into your skin, Jade comes from behind and holds your face in his hands, cooling it down from the oceans temperature. Neither attempt works, but they don’t stop.

Azul is urgently collecting every form of marine medicinal herb there is in the sea, even going true form and grabbing ingredients the size of ships. He’ll even do the wretched ‘running’ on land if it means getting you what you need. Magic can only take him so far, those human books he read didn’t need to tell him, he already knows as much.

When Azul comes back he hurriedly tells them to lay you down for treatment, having the two diligently perform every task he asks them. Jade isn’t cracking back-handed jokes and Floyd is entirely focused and still, only time to time fidgeting as he waits. If you weren’t so dazed you’d question if they were really the sea monsters you know.

The sounds of splashing water, the feeling of hands, tentacles, and tails all simultaneously work on ridding that fever. Somehow, it lulls you to sleep.

Your body remains floating in the water as all of them have you wrapped up in their limbs. When you come to, you realize they must’ve stolen someone’s clothes as a new pair are on you, as your new wardrobe is no longer soaked in sea water. You didn’t notice at first, but as soon as you woke up, their eyes were staring deep into your skin, almost like they’re searing the memory of you well and breathing into their memory.

The longer they look at you, the more they think about you. The dangers on land are so horrible… They never get such scenarios like that in sea… that means you must stay where such illnesses can’t reach you.

When you get sick in Scarabia, Kalim will beg you to make a wish, telling you he can make you better if you just ask. It’s one of the few times you genuinely want to make one, but your voice is much too hoarse for it to come through. You open your mouth and any words are too quiet to be commanded, with each syllable replaced with a cough. While Kalim is fretting over your well-being, Jamil is staring from the side, forked tongue hissing everyone once in a while.

This Jamil is capable of being a proper servant towards other monsters, as he knows their makeup… but with you, it’s a bit of a harder case. You don’t eat humans (he thinks), neither do you have tough skin, or enhanced ability, you are a mortal through and through.

Surprisingly, it’s Kalim who pushes through and knows what to do, albeit only slightly. He’ll tell Jamil you need water, and… and…! He can name some of the materials, but sometimes he trails off. It’s been so long since…

Jamil pinches Kalims ear to recenter his attention before slithering over with the needed supplies. He’s dabbing your face with water, taking a cloth and repeatedly dunking it into the liquid. When he takes the rag to dip back into the pitcher, he halts when you weakly grab at his wrist. It’s a weak sight, a vulnerable one, yet it makes his heart race because of how… weak you look. He watches you take his hand and place it on your forehead, eyes fluttering shut as soon as that cold touch hits you.

Right… Cold blooded…

Kalim wraps you in a makeshift blanket to keep your body warm, yet not too warm, while Jamil continues to switch between both hands to keep you cool, his tail wrapped around you. The touch of your skin on his reminds him just how warm you are.

When you finally get over your ailment, Kalim has you wrapped around himself, hugging you tightly as if you’d disappear. While Jamil isn’t nearly as affectionate, every time you walk around the desert the underlying feeling of eyes following you, persists every second… A silent statement of the danger you face all alone, telling you to stay and never harm yourself again.

Pomefiore with another human, except while not as medically skilled as Riddle, much better than everyone else due to his upbringing. Though, this knowledge gets outshone by Vil and Rook, who somehow, do know how illnesses work.

“Rook, do not caress them so… Just feed them the necessary remedies.” Vil sits by your side, ridding your body of the heavy clothes you adorn, until you’re left in much thinner cloth. All while he glares at the way Rook serandes your sweating face. Even in your current state, you can’t help but judge Rooks poor timing of poetry.

“Ah, amour… Even in such a vulnerable condition... I can’t help but believe your glisten is just as beautiful as yesterdays...” you feel his wispy hand stroke your cheek, wiping away your sweat, whispering something under his breath. If you had the energy, your would’ve walked away, but alas, you don’t. You look back at the ceiling, focusing on a single crack in the flawless interior, hoping the beating in your head would leave.

A particularly hard ache in your head as you lift your hands to hit the pain out, but you’re hands are stopped by Vil and Rook taking hold of each of your limbs. Rook whispers a ‘non non’ while Vil continues dabbing cool water on your skin, reprimanding you for such a harmful action.

All this action has you wondering where Epel could be… Come to daytime, the only interval where all of them are essentially harmless unless in the shadows, Epel finally shows himself when they’re both gone. His face isn’t too visible, as the shadows inside the mansion block out all light. You open your mouth to say something, but it’s quickly covered by an apple, teeth grazing the skin. For a moment you hesitate, but your hunters has you crunch into the fruit. You watch him bring the apple to his eyes, examining the marks before smiling.

“They were so worried about the fever, they forgot about food.” he brings the apple to his own lips, fangs piercing the same place you bit, your bites unionized. You’re none the wiser to Vil and Rook in the shadows, realizing, you don’t deserve an illness like this… It’s simple, just like Epel realized, the fragility of human and deciding to rid himself of that… they shall show you the same ephiany.

Ignihydes Underworld isn’t exactly the type you can wander around in… Which is why when Idia sees you resting your fevered head on his shoulder, he panics at the sight flickering in and out of your body. No… You shouldn’t be dying yet—!

And then he comes to the realization, if you died, without any ties to reality, you and him… Would never be alone again. He’s eerily silent as you cough, eyes darting back and forth at the suggestions in his mind. When you lean into him, he stays quiet, draping part of his cloak around your body, both of you trapped in the warmth of the fabric. If you died peacefully, you wouldn't become a ghost and join Heartslaybul… You wouldn't have to worry about the fear of a brutal death and suffering through life, is this not a mercy for you?

He hugs you tighter the more you cough, an ongoing war in his mind. You would never see those guys again… He wouldn’t have to worry about them, or you preferring their company over his—

“Idia…” your voice is horarse as shivers peak through your speech, “Please…”

Are you asking to die? Are you asking for him to be the one who guides your soul? Are you… wanting to be with him? He’s already preparing a scythe in hand, but when you flip your head up to look him in the eyes, he stops all motion.

“I don’t want to…” … You don’t have to finish for him to know. He knows when a person is desperate to live, and you’re one of them. No matter how much envy consumes him when you’re with those fiends, he won’t take your life, not until you truly wish to pass on.

But, that doesn’t mean the vermin around you are spared from his dark occupation. If anything, Idia will see to it they’re sent to the next life sooner than intended.

Diasmonia is an interesting case… They all do care for your current state, and your health of course, yet there’s a lack of urgency somehow… They cater to your sickness yet do it as if they’re only fawning over you rather than saving your life.

Malleus will take a humanoid form, holding your hands as he hums a tune, retelling tales you’ve told him. Occasionally, he will place his palm on your forehead, humming when he sees it’s just as it was when he last checked. There’s no point in asking what he’s doing, he’ll only smile with a tilt of his head before returning to stone, an ominous ‘Don’t fear, you’ll feel better soon enough.’ If you let him walk out, the cycle will repeat a few hours later, furthering your worries. If you grab onto eroding stone, though, he’ll turn back and hear your whispers, not real words but vespers of some. He’ll take his other rough-edged palm, pulling your hands to his lips. For a moment, you see regret in his eyes, but it doesn’t seem to last long when he says ‘it’ll be over soon.’

Lilia feeds you his food, one that’s… particularly not consumable for humans or monsters, yet he beams as if you’ll accept it. You somehow escape from the quick end you would’ve met had you eaten it, Lilia telling you it’s better to get accustomed to their food if you’re going to stay with them… You remind him you’ll be leaving soon enough, and he laughs… you don’t know why.

Sebek… Is very confusing in his behaviors. One moment he’s asking you ways to slightly ease the pain if he spots you wincing, next he’s flinching like he suddenly remembered something and telling you to stay sick for the monster's well-being. It’s conflicting, especially in your current state, everything only seems dizzying. When you wake up from your rest, you don’t feel any better, but there’s a single flower laid on your chest. It’s not much, but the sweet scent helps you forget your headache for a little.

Silver is the only one who remotely seems worried about your human form withering away. When the others are gone he’s next to you actually performing duties to rid your fever, quickly hiding the materials whenever he senses their arrival. He’ll shush you when everything becomes too much, whispering for you to sleep; he’ll rid you of any bad dreams you could encounter, you’ll only dream of your desires. So please, sleep. You never expected such behavior from the other three at all… Until it dawns on you when they overhear their words.

“Yes, the others only seem to ponder the idea, never act on it.” You hold back a cough while you lean against the wall, listening intently to whatever Malleus tells the other. “I wish to care for them until they’re much too weak to walk anymore.” He doesn’t mean… “And then we’ll do what all of them are much to meek to do.” You feel your body crumple under your weight, built arms scooping you up.

Silver… There’s a sorrowed look in his eyes as he looks at you, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ under his breath.

“… When they’re not human, they’ll never wish to leave this castle again.”

In the following days they continue to act like it’s your last day in the living, like your fate is predetermined. Malleus and Lilia lavish you in affection, while Sebek instructs you on ways of the dark as if you’re marrying to his family, albeit with a very distancing tone.

Every time they appear and go, you cling to Silver like your last life line, your grip is weak yet the look in your eyes acts like a command to him, insisting he better you.

And fortunately for you, you’re cured. Unfortunately for them, you’re cured.

Sages Quarter

- Rollo goes about the fever like any other one you’ve had, simply because everytime you have had one, it’s him who diligently sits by your side and aids you. (nevermind Jack… And Neige… He’s your main, he thinks, he hopes.) He’ll calmly talk you through the fever as he dabs your forehead, changes your wear, and feeds you in bed. It’s nothing he's never done before. But that’s only if the fever is normal; if it’s the high type, his demeanor take a shift and he looks much deadlier than he did before, his eye bags only increasing in depth.

“Do not move, you will strain yourself.” He watches you open your mouth, the glint in your eyes the kind you make when you’re about to throw a joke at him. Your pretty voice doesn't come out to his disappointment, only a whisper. The occurrence has him panicking, chastising you for silently laughing at your failed retort. “Is it really that funny that you can’t even talk?” he watches you mouth words, placing his hand on your lips, halting anymore movement.

You must be delirious from the fever, as you don’t protest but rather, smile at him. His chest tightens but he’s not sure from what emotion.

For a moment, your eyes go blank, and he’s swift to remove his palm, leaning into you with urgency. It was only for a moment, anyone else would’ve missed it, but not him; he remembers your eyes. He sighs when he sees the light reappear, taking his spot at your side once more.

“Do you take enjoyment in watching me worry?” you don’t have to do much for him to know you’re laughing at him, the look in your pupils tells him all he needs to know. Your hand hesitantly reaches for his cheek, brushing the back of your hand against pale skin. He takes possession of your palm, inhaling before letting the limb go again.

“M… Maybe… I do…” he can tell the effort it took to say just those few words. He watches you close your eyes before taking his handkerchief from his pocket, neatly folding the fabric on your chest.

“You… Truly—I can’t leave you like this…” … A wonderful thought. Maybe he just shouldn’t leave you, ever.

- Skully is quite literally screaming in panic, what exactly is he meant to do?!?! He basically webs you an entire luxury bedroom in your ail, gently coaxing you to lay down on the swindles of web. He smiles at your acceptance, ready to care for you with diligence! But then he remembers, that the entirety of this forest is dead. Any sign of life is quickly caught by him for consumption, any water has disappeared from streams, and plants have been desecrated for so long.

… How is he supposed to help you?!?

He can’t just wait for a wandering traveler to appear! That takes weeks or even months, he can’t wait that long! And even then, he can’t resort to feeding you the human…! It’s barbaric! For you at least... He does it all the time, but that’s because he’s a monster!! He doesn’t do it in front of you… you already seem so disappointed in him when you spy anyone just caught in his webs, the thought of you only looking at him with more fear in those eyes is unbearable—!

“Skully…—” he jumps at the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder, sweat glistening. He panics at the sight, picking you up with four of his arms while the other two set up your bed again.

“Please stay right here dear! I’ll find a way for you—” You pull his head down, close to your face, staring into all his eyes. You huff a single breath into his ear, the word ‘town’ the only audible thing. He knows himself, he stands out way too much to blend into society, so he really shouldn’t… But he can’t stop himself when he lifts you off the bed, a torn blanket he stole wrapped around him like a cloak.

He really shouldn’t… But for you he would break all manner of rules. Even, if he must be ungentlemanly, and leave a trail of webs and red in his wake, he’ll do it all, for you.

- Fellow turns his haunted head, his false joints bending to walk towards you. Thing strings begin to surround you like snakes, not touching, only moving around you.

“Fellow…? What are you…?”

“Shhhh, I thought sick people like you need sleep? My, don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe in my care!” the strings quickly push you towards him, Fellow’s false body and intricately designed clothes sound from the force you bump into him. Your head slowly turns up to look at the puppet, his face only a mere inches away from you. If he was a human, there’s no doubt he would be infected by now.

With each step he takes your hand weakly grabs his neck, the fox-themed marionette humming as the strings behind him follow close behind. You open your mouth to question what exactly he’s doing, but only a cough comes out. For a split second, Fellow looks down at you with pain, remembrance of something, something you don’t know. He’s back to the cunning showman persona just a moment later. With the opening of his fake mouth, words come from him.

“As I said, my valued hunter, I will make sure your visit to my stage…” your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion, your last feeling being hard lips placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You will never feel fear in your life again, dear puppeteer, for the rest of this stage is yours.”

A puppeteer… One that controls the doll on stage… Is that really the case here?

You wake up to the instant feeling of rejuvenation. Just what happened?

The sight of Fellow cleaning his strings bloodied with crimson, tells you It might be better to not know just how you’ve been cured.

- Neige lets you rest your head on his chest as his ivory wings envelop you in a warm embrace, telling you you’ll get better soon, he promises.

It’s not like you can deny his oath, not without a voice. Even then, if you did have one, you don’t think you would’ve anyway, it would be too cruel to tell Neige you don’t trust him to fix you. He’ll lay pristine white covers over you as he flies out the window, a sense of urgency in the angel that he never feels very often unless it’s about the dear human he’s meant for.

When he gets back, he’ll tend to you with tenderness and a gentle touch. Each dab of a towel is soft yet effective, and every spoon of remedy kind as it goes down. He’s certain it’ll work, especially with each blessing he gives you, it must, it has to.

But it doesn’t. You still lay in bed coughing, your speech disappearing with each passing moment. It doesn’t do good for his heart, and he’s not even a human yet it hurts, it hurts seeing you frail like this. But, then his breathing hitches when he realizes a certain feeling swelling inside him.

Wrath. He’s angry that the world won’t let him help you, even more so that the earth feels to do this to you in the first place. He puts on a smile for you as he sits at your bedside, but the way he clenches his fist tells you there’s something else.

“Neige…—”

“It’s okay! I’m going to fulfill my promise, okay?” his eyes sparkle with determination, and all you can do is nod.

The next time he flies over, word of an all-healing elixir reaches his ears, and so, he finds the seller, giving them the kindest of greetings in disguise. He offers up the price everyone spoke of, telling the vendor about your condition. He's hopeful this will work when he gives it—!

“No.” … What? Any other words the seller had to go out one ear and the other, only the way they looked at him seared into his brain. The next moment is a blur for Neige, only the repeated word of ‘Greed’ repeating in his mind.

… When you get better, he folds his wings far away from you, hopeful that you won’t see the black scattered amongst the ivory. Even then, he will commit all manner of sin, even fall from grace, to make sure you stay so heavenly.

A/n: If MH!Reader got a high fever when Crowley is around, you can bet money they’re coughing into a napkin and shoving it in his face to get him sick. If their illness ends up being something really bad, plague? Even better (for them, not everyone else cuz now you have the worst illness ever??? For Crowley too cuz wtf why’d you try giving him the plague?!?)

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ green is the color of envy (and poison)

type of post: fic characters: neige, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, vague possessiveness maybe angst idk, oooh drama author's note: I wanted a break from headcanons and had this strange urge to do a character study for neige. here I am, writing this at midnight

Neige Leblanche does not hate Vil Schoenheit.

The thought had not even occurred to him.

In fact, if you had even asked as much, his wide, doe-like eyes would fill with pretty tears, and he would ask you, in a trembling voice, if you really thought of him so cruelly.

Neige Leblanche did not hate anyone. On the contrary, he had so much love, it practically overflowed from him, touching the ground at his feet and imprinting itself on everything he held.

He was, for all intents and purposes, a vision of loveliness, a sunrise, morning dew on the petal of a white lily. He would have gladly, if you asked him, plucked each star out of the sky for you, written you a thousand songs, laid himself at your feet in adoration.

He was cupid, a chubby-faced, blushing cherub.

He had been content, for a time. Happy, even, with his little life, the family and career he had built with his own two hands, though you wouldn't know it from their softness.

Then, there was you.

You. You. The magicless prefect of Night Raven College. An otherworldly being. A hero.

You. So kindhearted, always gentle with the first years and animals. So polite, with him and his friends. So brave, facing danger and coming out unscathed. Your hope and gratefulness despite your circumstances reminded him, in a way, of himself.

There was no other explanation for it. You were sent for him.

Neige had simply never been so sure of anything. It felt right. It felt perfect. You were the one he'd been waiting for. You were his.

After the VDC, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You! You were perfect for him, his soulmate, and he didn't need to know you to know that. He'd never felt like this before, after all. It must be love.

You feel it too, don't you?

Limb by limb, he sews together a ragdoll of you in his mind. Something simple. Soft. Beautiful. Something for his thoughts to play with. He gives you a sword, one day, and he makes you a knight. He dresses you in the finest of silks, and he makes you a noble. He pushes up the corners of your sewn-together mouth, and he makes you smile back at him.

You're kind. You're brave. You're loving. You're loyal. You're chivalrous. You're anything he could want or need, anything at all, because you're his.

Why would fate lead him to someone who wasn't already perfect?

And, oh, how he wants to pick you flowers. Neige will make you breakfast in bed, and sing for you. Everyone loves him; and he loves everyone. But it isn't enough. You're his soulmate. Don't you know?

Why do you keep looking at each other like that.

You're so friendly, just like Neige, always so eager to please. Right? That's what it is. Right?

There could be no other reason for you and Vil Schoenheit to look at each other like that. As if you know something that Neige doesn't. As if you're having a conversation with only your eyes. What is that? What does it mean?

Why does he feel so comfortable touching you?

A hand on the small of your back, an arm around your waist. He corrects your posture with both hands on your shoulders. He taps your thigh when you're distracted. He holds your face in both palms to scold you for smudging the eyeliner he had so tediously put on you before coming here...

Why do you smile at him when he lectures you? Why does he smile back?

This strange, dizzying feeling, this tightness in Neige's chest, this unwelcomed weight, can't just be confusion.

He can only lie to himself for so long.

You feel it, too... don't you? Don't you get butterflies when you look at him? Don't you feel dizzy? Don't you think of him?

Vil murmurs something in your ear with a sly smile, and you laugh.

And you haven't even looked at Neige once yet. The thought makes him clench his fists under the table.

As this new, painful weight settles in his stomach, a dizzying thought sits with it.

Neige Leblanche is jealous.

Of Vil Schoenheit.

[liliavanrougelover]

Kill it with fire!

Summary: You ask them to kill a bug

Characters: All NRC students + RSA students (platonic or romantic, your choice)

Warnings: Bugs

A/N: First work with Che'nya and Neige! Lets go.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Doesn’t kill bugs, it makes a mess. He traps them in a glass and throws them outside.

Trey Clover:

Simply squashes it. Usually with his shoe. If he has to use his hands, he washes them after. (AKA he’s sane.)

Cater Diamond:

Nope, nope, nope. You have to kill it. He refuses to go near bugs. If neither of you want to kill it, Cater gets Trey to do it.

Ace Trappola:

Just kills it. And brags about how well he protected you.

Deuce Spade:

He doesn’t want to hurt bugs, so he uses a glass to throw it outside.

Leona Kingscholar:

Kills it without hesitation. Unless, you woke him up for it. Can’t you do it yourself? It’s just a bug. He kills it anyway.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Eats it. OR, makes you pay him for killing it. Sometimes both.

Jack Howl:

Kills it. Normally. Like a sane person.

Azul Ashengrotto:

NO! He hates bugs too. If he must kill it, he better get something in return.

Jade Leech:

He finds it amusing that you’re scared of bugs. He better get something in return for killing it for you.

Floyd Leech:

Depends on his mood. If he’s in a good mood, he kills it and expects something in return for his services. If he’s in a bad mood, he tells you to do it yourself. If he’s in an unhinged mood, he eats it.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Doesn’t kill it. He puts a glass over it and throws it outside

Jamil Viper:

You DID NOT just ask HIM to kill a bug. The moment you point out the bug, he’s out of that room. Nuh-uh, no way, not a chance. If you really need to, ask Kalim.

Vil Schoenheit:

Puts a glass over it and throws it out.

Rook Hunt:

Grabs it with his BARE HAND. He tells you all about it with it in his hand. He then throws it outside. Insane.

Epel Felmier:

Oh yeah! Killing bugs is so masculine! Stomps it to make sure it’s dead. He looks at you with a proud smile afterwards. He did so good!

Idia Shroud:

He has Ortho, Ortho has laser eyes. He doesn’t need to take care of the bugs when Ortho takes care of the bugs. AKA, uses his brother as a bug exterminator.

Ortho Shroud:

Laser eyes.

Malleus Draconia:

Oh, you want him to kill a bug? Okay. *Proceeds to blow up half of the building.*

Lilia Vanrouge:

Did you know that bugs have a lot of protein? Back when he fought in the war, he ate bugs when the soldiers were short on food. In short, he eats it.

Silver Vanrouge:

Throws it outside with a cup. Thanks for being normal, Silver.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Stomps it until it's mush. How dare that bug terrorize his human. It must pay with its life.

Che’nya:

Messes with you by picking it up with his bare hand and shoving it at you. Ends up eating it when he’s done terrorizing you.

Neige Leblanche:

Cup method. And he’s super gentle too. He sets it down outside and is just like, “Goodbye, little buddy.” Such a silly guy <3

[thatnonameuser]

abt ur yandere twst au; do darlings get kidnapped for ransom? For example: would people kidnap Leona’s darling in order to get ransom (they’d be killed instead)?

Want a rich yandere to freak the fuck out the moment they realise their darling is missing and give you more money than you know what to do with, which is actually a bluff, because you’re actually going to die from extensive torture once their darling is safe? Kidnap their darling, your wallet and grave will thank you.

But yes, it does happen. Which is why wealthy yanderes take very severe precautions.

I’ve mentioned before that Kalim’s father has taken some very morally black methods to protect his darling and his kids from kidnappers. (here if you’re interested). But if a darling is kidnapped for ransom and their lives are threatened, the kidnapper better have the entire universe on their side because they’re as good as dead.

Yanderes don’t mess around. They’ll pay whatever fee they have to, nothing is too high. But as soon as the darling’s safe, the yandere will stain their hands in blood. 

So at the trade off for the darling, expect that once you’re back in their arms, the kidnapper is dead. Deader than dead, not even a shred remains. If the yandere doesn’t kill them, then they hire assassins. If they do kill them, then it’s just that much worse for the kidnapper. They’re not getting out of this alive.

Also because I’m feeling nice. Enjoy some semi-imagines with the rich boys of TWST having MC get kidnapped and their reaction to it.

Leona Kingscholar

Pissed. Very pissed. He may not be king but that doesn’t excuse the guards not doing their god damn jobs and keeping you safe. (He will be more angry if he finds out that Falena’s wife didn’t get kidnapped and you did, just throwing gasoline onto the fire.) And to make matters worse, they’re threatening to kill you. Well, they’re fucking dead.

Leona may be angry but he’s still smart. He isn’t risking letting anything happen to you, so he’ll play along until he can guarantee that you’re safe before killing whoever had the balls to kidnap you. And since he’s a prince, he can bend the law to get you back. The beastman’s coming for you himself, and he’ll turn anyone that threatens you to grains of sand under his palm. 

After he gets you back, he’s not going to let you out of his sight. And if he has to, he’s always going to be nearby. His rage hasn’t calmed down at all either. Plain and simple, you’re his and anyone that gets in the way of that deserves a slow death, and the fact that he nearly lost you is weighing on him. 

Before getting you back - Furious, ready to kill and reduce whoever's stolen you to sand.

After getting you back - Still angry, you're not leaving his sight or going near anyone that's not him.

Kalim Al-Asim

Sunshine boy’s panicking. Like completely panicking. He’s been kidnapped before and (while that’s a can of worms for another day), you haven’t gone through something so scary before. To him, he thinks that  you must be so terrified, surrounded by strangers that want to hurt you for something as shallow as money.

So after Jamil calms him down enough to think rationally, he begs for his help to save you. After all, you’re in terrible danger and he’s ready to throw as much money as he has to save you if need be but he doesn’t want to risk them trying again in the future. Plus he’s the hair of the Asim family, he might get kidnapped or killed too and then who will protect you.

So sending assassins is to foil their operation, and bring you home is the best bet. And they’re the best money can buy.

You’ll probably be a little shaken when you come home, and a little bit of kidnapper blood might be on your skin, but it's nothing a nice bath and a fest won't cure. Just expect to constantly be followed around by a team of at least six bodyguards. Or maybe Najma. Just know that Kalim is considering taking after dear old dad.

Before getting you back - Kalim's worried to death about not seeing you again. Or you getting hurt. 

After getting you back - He's gone over-protective not allowing you to ever go missing or get hurt ever again. He'll take the morally gray way out if he needs to, but he can’t bear to risk losing you.

Vil Schoenheit

If he gets stress wrinkles because of this, he’ll make sure that the kidnappers suffer even more. Vil’s used to threats of kidnapping, the fact the imbeciles actually went through with it is brave. Incredibly stupid, but brave. Regardless, he’s losing his mind with worry and anger. His fans are deranged, he’s worried for your safety. 

To Vil’s benefit, he has Rook. And Rook’s UM is basically goated when it comes to locating someone not meant to be found. So obviously, Rook goes to get you with orders from Vil to bring your kidnappers back with you for him to deal with. 

Vil will do his best to keep this crisis away from the media. He doesn’t need for you to be mobbed by the press, so expect a delightful trip to an isolated, relaxing and aesthetically pleasing vacation somewhere in the Shaftlands to protect you. But that relaxing little trip, is also so he can torture those imbeciles for the rest of their miserable little lives. He may not like portraying a villain but he’ll be one if he’s pushed. Besides, Rook will happily take care of the bodies. 

He’ll calm down after you’re out of harm's way, but anticipate that he won't ever let you out in public without him or someone he trusts with you.

Before getting you back - Pissed with a poker face. He’s worried for your well-being, and if a hair is harmed on your head, he’ll snap.

After getting you back - He’ll calm down, but he’ll start to be very protective. Don’t ask him about the screams you might hear in the basement of where you’re staying when he’s not with you, it’s nothing important.

Neige LeBlanche

One of the prices of fame. Neige is horrified that someone would try to take you to take advantage of him. Honestly, he would have rather been the one whose life was held on the line than have you brought into the mess. Neige has never been more scared in his entire life.

Obviously, he’ll get you back. Hand off the money and everything, but he’s not happy about those ‘villains’ going unpunished for scaring you like that. As soon as he’s sure that you’ll be safe and sound. He’ll go to the press to tell his heartbreaking story.

So que the imminent waterworks to the paparazzi. After all, he knows they’ll be immediately moved. Neige’s most precious one, his darling, had their life threatened and he was terrified that he wouldn’t get you back before it’s too late. 

His fans do the rest. 

On the impromptu vacation Neige took you on to help you recover from the experience, (or more specifically, the trip to a very isolated location where you both can be alone with no kidnappers in sight) Neige will receive some ‘fan mail’ with the remains of the perpetrators. He won’t show you though, you’ve been through so much recently. 

Before getting you back - He's so scared for you. You're his princess he can't bear to lose you for even a second. So having you gone is a nightmare.

After getting you back - Relieved. He's so happy to have you back. You're never leaving his side again. He's a little peeved that someone tried to disrupt your happily ever after, but they’re no longer breathing so who cares. 

Idia Shroud

Panic attack. Instant Panic attack, Ortho better have Baymax functions because he’s gonna pass out in panic. How the hell did this even happen?! He has drones following you constantly! 

After he has his panic attack, he’s burning red in anger. How dare they?! How fucking dare they?! He’s putting all his energy into figuring out every last thing about your kidnappers’ lives. He’ll find you, obviously. And then he’ll send S.T.Y.X after them to return you home while he ruins their entire lives. Then he'll kill those noobs so that he sends a message.

As soon as you’re back, he’s a sobbing wreck. He’s already lost Ortho, he can’t lose you too. You won’t be leaving his room while he has his pity party. And you probably shouldn’t because it’ll just make him feel even worse. Comfort him a bit, will ya?

Before getting you back - A whirlwind of panic and anger. He’s in doxxing mode, man. Your kidnappers better be prepared to suffer for a while, before he gets merciful and kills them.

After getting you back - Tears, so many tears. And he’ll be a koala with how clingy he’ll be. 

Malleus Draconia

Whichever kidnapper thought this was a good idea needs to get their brain checked because it’s currently missing. The exact second Malleus realizes the danger you’re in, he’s turning into a dragon to find and save you and then kill the kidnappers in a raging inferno. Forget stopping to plan or temporarily co-operating, the man’s gone to find you before the ransom letter hits the floor. (Sure there’s the threat of iron, but he doesn’t care you’re in danger.)

In a word, he’s furious. In a lot of words, he’s so angry that a category five hurricane has started outside to reflect his rage. If even a hair is missing from your head, he’s probably going to lose it. Gotta love that he’s enchanted all your jewelry to serve as tracking devices. Because he’s there in under an hour, burning your kidnappers to death till nothing remains. After that, it’s back home to put you into a tower so heavily fortified and reinforced that a fly couldn’t accidentally get through the door. 

Once you’re safe, the sadness kicks in. He can’t bear to lose you ever. So the fact that he let his guard down enough to nearly let you be killed is breaking him. His entire purpose is to protect and love you, and he’s failed in that, so please do your best to reassure him that you’re not going to leave him, he’s had a hard ten minutes. 

Oh, but don’t expect to go outside for the next year though once you do. He’s not exactly under the impression that you won’t be taken from him again. So he’s going to be even more clingy and protective.

Before getting you back - Angry, infuriated, vengeful. He's killing someone today and it's going to be one or all of your kidnappers. 

After getting you back - Sad dragon hours. He's craving reassurance and your love to make himself feel better. Give him cuddles, please.

[solxamber]

All the NRC students (+maybe neige and Chen'ya) with a incubus? Can be either platonic or romantic but romantic would be preferred

(Male reader please!)

All NRC (-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader

thanks for the request <3 also had a lot of fun writing this so it ended up getting a little out of hand

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle prided himself on maintaining control—control of his dorm, his emotions, and, most importantly, his heart. So when you, with your playful, lingering glances and mischievous smirks, started pulling him into your orbit, it rattled him.

It didn’t help that you knew exactly what you were doing.

“I’ve told you before about your uniform,” Riddle said sternly, eyes flicking over the slightly disheveled appearance you sported. The red cravat was loose, shirt collar slightly askew, and there was something about the casual disregard for the rules that sent his pulse racing.

You tilted your head, stepping just close enough to make his heartbeat uncomfortably loud in his ears. “I’d fix it, but I think you like it this way.”

Riddle’s face burned, and he instinctively took a step back, his composure slipping. “T-That’s absurd! The rules exist for a reason—”

You smiled, a slow, deliberate thing that made his breath hitch. “Maybe you just like breaking the rules when no one’s watching.”

Riddle’s heart thudded against his ribcage, his voice lowering to a flustered murmur. “I... I don’t know what you’re implying, but... please—fix it.”

But you didn’t move, and for the first time, Riddle wasn’t sure if he wanted you to.

Trey Clover

Trey had always been steady, reliable. The calm amidst the storm of his fellow Heartslabyul students. But you? You were the unpredictable spark in his otherwise predictable life.

He watched as you leaned casually against the kitchen counter, watching him roll out the dough with that knowing smile on your face. The way you lingered so close, the heat of your body just barely brushing against his, had him more distracted than he’d ever admit.

“You know,” you said, voice low and smooth as honey, “you’re really good at this whole ‘baking’ thing. I can’t help but wonder what else you’re good at.”

Trey’s hand stilled, his heart suddenly pounding a little harder. He glanced at you, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s... just practice.”

You laughed, the sound soft and intimate, as if the two of you shared a secret. “Hmm. Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’m a quick learner...”

Trey swallowed, eyes flicking to yours, his usual calm slipping just a bit. “I-I could. But, uh, maybe we should focus on the task at hand first.”

But the way you stepped closer, your shoulder brushing against his, told him that focusing was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Cater Diamond

Cater loved attention. He lived for it. But the way you looked at him? That was something different. Something that made his heart skip a beat, even though he’d never admit it.

“You’ve got all those fans, Cater,” you said, leaning close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from you, “but when’s the last time you had someone all to yourself?”

Cater’s grin faltered, just for a second. “What’s this? You jealous? Don’t worry, I’ve always got time for you.”

But his casual charm wasn’t quite enough to hide the way his pulse quickened as you leaned even closer, your breath brushing against his ear.

“Jealous?” you echoed, your voice low, teasing. “Nah. Just curious. Wondering if you can handle it when all the attention’s on you for real.”

Cater swallowed, his playful demeanor slipping as his mind raced. You always did know how to get under his skin. “Hah... you’re too much, you know that?”

You grinned, and Cater couldn’t help but wonder if, for once, he’d met someone who could play his game better than him.

Ace Trappola

Ace liked to think of himself as smooth. Unshakable. Too clever to fall for anything or anyone. But every time you got a little too close, flashed that wicked grin, or dropped a suggestive comment, he found himself floundering in a way that left him both frustrated and intrigued.

“So, Ace,” you drawled, standing far too close for him to feel comfortable, “how long are you gonna pretend I’m not getting to you?”

Ace shot you his best smirk, crossing his arms as if the proximity wasn’t bothering him at all. “Pfft, please. You’re not even on my radar.”

But the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him, and you stepped even closer, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Really?” you murmured, your eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re telling me that if I kissed you right now, it wouldn’t faze you at all?”

Ace froze, his heart doing an acrobatic flip in his chest. “I-I mean... not at all,” he stammered, but the blush creeping up his neck told a different story.

You grinned, pulling away just before he could gather his thoughts. “We’ll see about that.”

Ace exhaled shakily, trying to regain his composure, but all he could think about was the way his heart hadn’t quite slowed down.

Deuce Spade

Deuce wasn’t used to being flustered. He was the serious one. The dependable one. But you? You had a way of completely throwing him off his game with nothing more than a smile.

“Deuce, you’re looking a little tense,” you teased, your voice soft and almost soothing as you stood in front of him. “Something on your mind?”

Deuce swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything other than the way your fingers lightly brushed against his arm. “N-No! I’m just... thinking.”

“About me?” you asked, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin.

Deuce’s face turned bright red. “N-No! I mean, not that I don’t—no, wait, I didn’t mean—uh—”

You chuckled softly, leaning in just a bit closer, your lips barely inches from his ear. “Relax. I’m just teasing you. Unless...”

Deuce’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he tried to find his voice. “U-Unless?”

You smiled, pulling away slightly, but the warmth of your touch still lingered. “Unless you want me to be serious.”

Deuce’s brain short-circuited for a moment, and all he could do was nod, his face burning as his heart hammered in his chest.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was used to being in control. To having people fall in line around him. But you? You were the one person who never seemed to be affected by his lazy dominance. If anything, you enjoyed pushing his buttons.

You stretched out beside him in the sunlight, lazily twirling a blade of grass between your fingers. “So, what’s the plan, Leona? Gonna keep pretending you’re not interested forever?”

Leona opened one eye to glare at you, his voice a low growl. “I told you, I’m trying to sleep.”

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbow to lean closer to him. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’re not very convincing when your heart’s racing like that.”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You think you’re cute, huh?”

“I know I am,” you replied smoothly, your fingers brushing against his arm just enough to make him tense.

Leona scoffed, turning his head away, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re asking for trouble, herbivore.”

But the way he didn’t move away told you he didn’t mind one bit.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of tricks. He was the one who pulled the pranks, got the upper hand. But you? You had him constantly on edge, never knowing what you’d say or do next.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ruggie said, his voice low and teasing as you sidled up next to him.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Am I? Or maybe you’re just not used to someone playing it better than you.”

Ruggie laughed, though there was a hint of nervousness behind it. “Better than me? C’mon, I’ve got this in the bag.”

You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I don’t think you do.”

Ruggie’s heart skipped a beat, his mind scrambling for a witty comeback, but all he could focus on was the way your lips brushed against his ear ever so slightly. “Y-You’re not playing fair.”

You chuckled, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. “Who said anything about playing fair?”

Ruggie grinned, his confidence slipping just a little. “You’re trouble. But... I think I like it.”

Jack Howl

Jack prided himself on his discipline, his focus, his unwavering sense of duty. Yet, you had a way of completely unraveling all of that in a matter of seconds.

He was lifting weights in the gym, mind focused, muscles straining, when you appeared beside him. “Need a spotter?” you asked casually, leaning against the bench with a smile that was just a little too playful.

Jack grunted, trying to ignore the way your presence made his heart race. “I can handle it.”

You chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m sure you can, big guy. But why pass up the chance to have me watching your back?”

Jack nearly fumbled the weight, his ears flicking in annoyance, though he couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I-I’m fine.”

But you didn’t move. Instead, you rested your chin on your hand, watching him intently. “You know, I think you try too hard sometimes. Maybe you should let someone else take care of you for a change.”

Jack’s grip tightened on the barbell, his pulse quickening. He wasn’t sure if it was the weight or the way you were looking at him that was making his chest feel tight. “I don’t need—”

You reached out, brushing a hand against his arm, sending an electric jolt through him. “Don’t need help? Or don’t need me watching you like this?”

Jack huffed, setting the weight down with more force than necessary. “You’re impossible.”

But the way his tail twitched betrayed the fact that he didn’t really mind.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was a planner. Every move, every interaction was calculated, precise. And yet, somehow, you always seemed to throw his carefully crafted plans into chaos.

He watched as you entered the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge, that ever-present smirk on your lips. “You’re awfully quiet today, Azul,” you teased, crossing the room with a confidence that always made his palms sweat.

Azul adjusted his glasses, trying to maintain his usual calm demeanor. “I’m simply... observing.”

“Observing, huh?” you echoed, leaning on the edge of his desk, far too close for comfort. “And what exactly are you observing?”

Azul cleared his throat, eyes flicking nervously to yours. “Y-You, of course. You’re quite... unpredictable.”

You grinned, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk, inching closer to his hand. “Unpredictable? Or maybe you’re just bad at reading me.”

Azul’s heart raced, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. “I assure you, I’m quite skilled at reading people.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Then what am I thinking right now?”

Azul froze, his mind scrambling for a coherent thought, but all he could focus on was the heat radiating from your body and the way your eyes seemed to see right through him. “I-I...”

You chuckled, pulling away just before he could respond, leaving him flustered and very much off balance. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought.”

Azul adjusted his glasses again, trying to regain his composure. “You... are infuriating.”

But the flush on his cheeks said he didn’t mind being bested by you.

Jade Leech

Jade was used to being in control, much like his boss. He enjoyed observing people, watching how they reacted, and staying two steps ahead. But with you? You were always just a little bit ahead of him, and that intrigued him far more than he’d like to admit.

“So,” Jade drawled, his usual polite smile firmly in place as you stood across from him in the lounge, “what brings you here today? Surely not just to cause more chaos?”

You smirked, tilting your head in that way that always made his heart beat just a little faster. “Maybe I just like the view.”

Jade raised an eyebrow, though his pulse quickened. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware the decor was so interesting.”

“Oh, the decor’s nice,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers lightly brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “But I wasn’t talking about that.”

Jade’s smile widened, though he couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of surprise in his chest. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“Bold?” you echoed, your hand resting on the table just beside his. “Maybe. Or maybe I just know what I want.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with intrigue, his voice lowering to a murmur. “And what is it that you want?”

You leaned in, just enough to make his heart skip a beat. “I think you already know.”

For the first time, Jade found himself unsure of what move to make next—a sensation both unsettling and thrilling. “You... are quite the enigma.”

You grinned, pulling away with a wink. “And you love it.”

Jade’s smile didn’t falter, but the way his heart raced told him that, perhaps, you were right.

Floyd Leech

Floyd was wild, unpredictable, and always on the hunt for something exciting. You? You were the perfect mix of chaos and control, and that made you his favorite person to mess with.

“Shrimpy~!” Floyd’s voice echoed down the hallway as he bounded toward you with his usual enthusiasm. “Whatcha doin’? Boring stuff again?”

You glanced up, smirking as he slid to a stop in front of you. “Just waiting for you to catch up, Floyd. Took you long enough.”

Floyd grinned, his mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oho, you’re in a mood today, huh?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the wall, your posture casual, but your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just wondering if you can keep up.”

Floyd’s grin widened, his heart racing at the challenge. “Oh, I can keep up, don’t worry.”

You stepped closer, close enough that Floyd’s playful grin faltered for just a second. “Can you, though?”

Floyd’s eyes narrowed, his excitement turning to something sharper, more focused. “Heh, you’re askin’ for it, Shrimpy.”

But instead of backing down, you just grinned, your hand lightly brushing against his arm. “Maybe I am.”

For the first time in a while, Floyd found himself caught off guard, his usual chaotic energy tempered by the unexpected heat in your gaze. “You’re somethin’ else, Shrimpy.”

You winked, pulling away before he could react, leaving him both intrigued and frustrated in the best possible way. “I know.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was all sunshine and joy, always smiling, always positive. But when you were around? He found himself feeling something a little different—a flutter in his chest that he didn’t quite understand.

“You’re always so happy, Kalim,” you teased, your voice soft but playful as you sat beside him on the steps of Scarabia. “What’s your secret?”

Kalim beamed at you, his usual enthusiasm shining through. “It’s easy! I just focus on the good things. Like you being here with me!”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “That’s sweet. But what if I wasn’t here?”

Kalim blinked, his smile faltering for just a second. “Then... I’d be sad, I guess.”

You tilted your head, your smile turning a little more mischievous. “Really? Sad? Or maybe... you’d miss me?”

Kalim’s face flushed, his usual cheerfulness giving way to a sudden nervousness. “O-Of course I’d miss you! You’re my friend!”

You leaned in, your voice lowering just enough to make his heart race. “Just a friend?”

Kalim’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “W-Well, I mean... I-I—”

You chuckled, pulling away before he could stumble over his words any more. “Relax, Kalim. I’m just teasing you.”

But the blush on his cheeks remained, and Kalim couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be more than just friends.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had spent most of his life in control, always planning, always calculating. But with you? You threw all of that right out the window. No matter how hard he tried to remain calm, you always seemed to know just how to get under his skin.

He was organizing a batch of ingredients for the next Scarabia banquet when you strolled into the kitchen. “Jamil, you’re always working so hard,” you said, your voice lilting with a teasing edge.

Jamil didn’t look up from his task, though the way his grip tightened on the spoon betrayed his reaction to your presence. “Someone has to,” he muttered, keeping his voice neutral.

You leaned against the counter, watching him with that playful glint in your eye. “But don’t you ever get tired of being so... responsible all the time?”

Jamil glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What are you getting at?”

You grinned, reaching for one of the nearby aprons. “I’m saying, maybe you need a break. Let someone else take care of things for once.”

Jamil snorted, shaking his head. “And who exactly would that be? You?”

You slid the apron over your head, your movements far too casual. “Why not? I can handle a kitchen just fine.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow, watching as you tied the apron with a flourish. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

You shot him a playful wink. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

For once, Jamil was at a loss. The idea of letting go, even for a second, was foreign to him. But the way you moved with such confidence... it made him wonder what it would be like to let someone else take control, just for a little while. “Fine,” he said after a moment, crossing his arms. “But if you burn anything, you’re cleaning it up.”

You grinned, reaching for the nearest pan. “Deal.”

And as you moved around the kitchen, humming to yourself, Jamil found himself watching you with a mix of exasperation and something warmer—something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil had always prided himself on his perfection. His looks, his demeanor, everything about him was carefully crafted to be flawless. But you? You were the one person who could make him forget all of that, even if just for a moment.

He was seated at his vanity, carefully applying his skincare routine when you entered the room. “You know, Vil, you’re almost too perfect,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

Vil raised an eyebrow, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Almost?”

You stepped closer, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah. But perfection’s boring.”

Vil turned slightly, regarding you with a cool, appraising look. “I see. And what, pray tell, would you suggest?”

You grinned, walking up behind him and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Maybe you should loosen up a little. Try being... I don’t know, human.”

Vil’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m afraid that would be lowering my standards.”

You chuckled, your breath warm against his neck. “Or maybe it would just make you more relatable.”

Vil’s gaze flicked to yours, a spark of something sharp and amused in his eyes. “I’m not interested in being relatable.”

You straightened, your smile widening. “Good thing I’m not asking you to be.”

Vil turned fully to face you now, his violet eyes narrowing slightly. “Then what are you asking?”

You shrugged, your tone playful. “Maybe I’m just asking you to let me in.”

For a brief moment, Vil’s carefully crafted facade cracked, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to let someone see beyond the perfection. But he quickly composed himself, his smile returning. “Perhaps.”

But the way his heart skipped a beat told him that you were already closer than he’d like to admit.

Rook Hunt

Rook loved beauty in all its forms. He admired it, sought it out, and treasured it. But there was something about you—something wild, unpredictable, and utterly enchanting—that drew him in like nothing else.

You were standing at the edge of the Pomefiore courtyard, gazing out at the forest beyond when Rook appeared beside you. “Ah, mon trésor,” he murmured, his voice soft and reverent. “What a beautiful sight.”

You glanced at him, smirking. “You say that about everything.”

Rook chuckled, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “Perhaps. But in your case, it is always true.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter. “You’re such a romantic.”

Rook smiled, leaning in just a little closer. “Can you blame me? You are... irresistible.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk turning playful. “Am I?”

Rook’s eyes sparkled, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Without question.”

For a moment, you were caught in his gaze, the intensity of his admiration washing over you like a wave. But then, with a grin, you stepped back, breaking the spell. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep chasing me, then.”

Rook laughed, his heart racing at the challenge. “Ah, mon cœur, I would chase you to the ends of the earth.”

And as you turned away, a smile playing on your lips, Rook knew that he would do just that—no matter how long it took.

Epel Felmier

Epel had heard rumors about you—whispers in the halls of an incubus who could charm anyone with just a glance. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was your mix of quiet strength and subtle flirtation that kept him intrigued. You had this easy confidence that drove him wild, even though he’d never admit it.

You were lounging on a low wall near the Pomefiore gardens, basking in the afternoon sun when Epel stormed up, looking as if he had something to prove. "So, how does it work? Your whole 'incubus charm' thing?" His tone was half curious, half challenging.

You chuckled, tilting your head. "You want a lesson, Felmier?"

Epel crossed his arms, trying to appear unaffected, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away. "Nah, I just... I don’t get it. How do ya make people swoon without even trying?"

You smiled, leaning forward slightly, your voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Maybe I just have that effect on you."

Epel’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, cheeks turning a brighter red. "Y-yeah, right. As if!"

You laughed softly, standing up and stepping closer, close enough for Epel to feel the warmth radiating from you. "You seem flustered. Careful now, or people might think you're one of my admirers."

Epel swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "I ain’t like the others, y’know. You’re not gonna charm me that easily."

"Oh, Epel," you teased, brushing a finger lightly under his chin, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. "Who said I was trying?"

Epel froze, heart pounding in his chest, his usual bravado completely melting under your touch. But before he could say anything, you pulled back, leaving him standing there, speechless and confused.

"You’re fun to mess with," you said with a wink, turning to walk away. "But don’t worry. I like you for more than just your pretty face."

As you disappeared down the path, Epel stood there, face burning and thoughts racing. He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or completely thrown off balance, but one thing was for sure—he was hooked.

Idia Shroud

Idia hated attention, and you—an incubus who naturally drew people in—was the last person he expected to become infatuated with. But there was something about you that made it impossible for him to focus on anything else. It didn’t help that you seemed to enjoy making him squirm.

He was holed up in his room, hunched over his desk, when you casually materialized in the middle of the room. "Yo, Idia," you greeted with a grin. "Miss me?"

Idia nearly fell out of his chair, his hands fumbling to close several tabs on his computer in a panic. "W-what the—don’t sneak up on me like that!"

You chuckled, leaning against his desk with your usual easy confidence. "You’re cute when you’re flustered, y’know that?"

Idia’s face turned bright red, and he pulled his hoodie over his head, muttering under his breath. "N-n-not cute. I’m not... cute."

You smirked, leaning in closer. "Oh, but you are. The way you hide in your hoodie, the way you avoid eye contact... It’s pretty endearing."

Idia peeked out from under his hoodie, his golden eyes wide with a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Endearing? M-me?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, reaching out to brush a strand of his blue hair away from his face. "You’re more interesting than you think, Shroud."

Idia’s breath hitched, and he quickly pulled his hood tighter, as if it could somehow protect him from your teasing. "Y-you must be messing with me," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

You grinned, leaning back but keeping your eyes on him. "Maybe a little. But I mean it. You’ve got this whole mysterious, untouchable vibe going on. It’s kind of hot."

Idia froze, his mind short-circuiting at the word "hot" being used in reference to him. He stared at his screen, trying to pretend like he wasn’t blushing furiously under his hood. "Th-this is like... some kind of nightmare..."

You laughed, pushing off the desk and heading toward the door. "Nah, just a dream you’re not ready for yet."

Idia didn’t dare look up as you left, but his heart was racing, and his mind was filled with thoughts he had no idea how to process. You were dangerous, but also kind of intoxicating. And despite everything, he found himself looking forward to the next time you’d appear in his room out of nowhere.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was used to people fearing him, revering him even. But you? You weren’t scared. In fact, you treated him with the same teasing confidence as everyone else, and that... intrigued him.

You had found him in his usual spot by the gargoyles, admiring the stone figures with that serene look on his face. You leaned casually against a nearby pillar, watching him for a moment before speaking. "Y’know, for someone so powerful, you sure spend a lot of time alone."

Malleus turned to you, his emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Does that surprise you?"

You grinned, walking over to stand beside him. "A little. I mean, shouldn’t someone like you have people fawning over them all the time?"

Malleus raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but amused. "I am not particularly interested in such... distractions."

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. "Oh, come on. Everyone needs a little attention sometimes. Even you."

Malleus looked at you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. "And you believe you are the one to provide it?"

You met his gaze, your smile softening just a bit. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just curious about what makes you tick."

Malleus considered your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your playful demeanor. "You are unlike any other... bold, yet not reckless."

You smirked, leaning closer. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

Malleus tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. "Perhaps it was meant as one."

For a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension, but you broke it with a light laugh, stepping back. "Well, if you ever get tired of talking to gargoyles, you know where to find me."

Malleus watched as you turned to leave, his lips curving into a small smile. "Indeed. I may take you up on that offer."

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just unlocked a side of Malleus Draconia that few had ever seen. The thrill of it was enough to make your heart race.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had lived through centuries and seen all manner of beings, but you—a cheeky incubus with a penchant for teasing—caught his interest more than anyone in recent memory. You had a charm about you that was hard to ignore, and Lilia, of course, found it entertaining.

One evening, you found him lounging upside down on a tree branch, casually playing a game on his phone. You leaned against the trunk, grinning up at him. "Don’t you ever get tired of hanging upside down like a bat?"

Lilia’s red eyes flickered toward you, and he chuckled softly. "Why would I? The world looks more amusing this way. And I get to see delightful surprises, like you."

You smirked, folding your arms. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

"Ah, but I don't need flattery with you, do I?" Lilia responded smoothly, dropping down from the tree and landing gracefully beside you. "You're already drawn to me."

You laughed, stepping closer. "Confident, are we? You must know my type, then?"

Lilia’s smile widened, his sharp fangs peeking through. "Perhaps. You do have a taste for the mysterious and ancient, do you not?"

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. "Maybe I like a little danger."

Lilia’s eyes gleamed mischievously. "Careful now. I might just take you up on that."

For a moment, there was a spark of something unspoken between you—something thrilling, intoxicating. But you knew Lilia well enough to know he enjoyed the dance as much as you did. You gave him a wink before pulling back. "See you around, old man."

Lilia chuckled, watching you walk away with a look of pure amusement. "I do enjoy our little games," he murmured to himself. "Such an interesting soul you are."

Silver

Silver had always been calm and composed, his emotions well-guarded behind his serene expression. But with you, something shifted. You had a way of breaking through his defenses, and even if he tried to ignore it, you seemed determined to fluster him.

One afternoon, you found Silver in a quiet spot near the garden, practicing his swordsmanship. He was focused, moving with precision, but you, being you, couldn’t resist a little disruption. "Nice form," you called out, leaning against a tree. "But I bet you’ve never faced a foe like me."

Silver paused, lowering his sword and turning to you with his usual calm gaze. "Are you suggesting a duel?"

You grinned, stepping forward. "Not exactly. More like a... sparring of wits. I think I’m winning already."

Silver blinked, clearly puzzled by your words, but there was a slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "I wasn’t aware we were competing."

"That’s because I’m subtle," you teased, giving him a playful look. "You should keep up."

Silver’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his usual stoic expression faltered. "I’m trying. But you... you’re not easy to figure out."

You took another step closer, your voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Maybe that’s part of the fun."

Silver’s breath caught for a moment, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "You’re... different from anyone I’ve met before."

"And that’s a good thing?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Silver nodded slowly, meeting your eyes with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. "Yes. It’s a good thing."

For a moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the connection between you growing stronger. And though Silver was not one for grand gestures or flirtatious banter, his presence alone made you feel something deeper than words could express.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was nothing if not loyal to Malleus, and that made dealing with you—a distracting, charming incubus—all the more frustrating for him. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his duties, you always seemed to show up at the worst possible moments, throwing him off balance with your teasing.

You found Sebek in the library, his nose buried in a book about fae history. With a sly grin, you slipped into the chair beside him, leaning on your elbow and watching him intently. "You know, Sebek, you could use a break every now and then."

Sebek stiffened, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at you. "I have no time for distractions! Lord Malleus requires my full attention at all times!"

"Uh-huh," you replied, clearly not buying it. "I’m sure Malleus is off doing his own thing. Meanwhile, you’re here, working too hard."

Sebek slammed his book shut, standing abruptly. "I am not ‘working too hard!’ I am doing my duty! Unlike some people who waste their time with frivolous nonsense!"

You smirked, standing up to match his energy. "Frivolous, huh? Is that what you think of me?"

Sebek’s face turned red, but whether from anger or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. "Y-you’re always... always causing trouble! With your... your incubus ways!"

"Incubus ways?" you repeated with a laugh, stepping closer to him. "Sebek, you’re adorable when you’re flustered."

"I am not flustered!" he barked, though his reddening face said otherwise.

You leaned in, lowering your voice just enough to make him even more uncomfortable. "You’re really bad at hiding it, y’know."

Sebek sputtered, taking a step back as if he didn’t know how to handle the situation. "I... I have no time for your... your charm!"

You grinned, thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on him. "Don’t worry, Sebek. I’ll leave you alone... for now."

As you walked away, you heard Sebek muttering something under his breath about ‘distractions’ and ‘duty,’ but the small smile on your face told you everything you needed to know. He was hooked—whether he liked it or not.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo prided himself on being composed, dignified, and resistant to the distractions of the outside world—especially when it came to magic. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the temptations of the world, you always seemed to challenge his resolve.

It was an unspoken game between the two of you. Whenever you visited the City of Flowers, you'd find a way to tease him, either with your charm or just by being yourself—a confident, unabashed incubus who was clearly enjoying Rollo’s discomfort.

One afternoon, you caught Rollo walking through the garden, looking as serious as ever. "Rollo, fancy seeing you out here in the sunshine," you said with a grin, stepping into his path.

He stopped, eyeing you warily. "What do you want?"

"Now, is that any way to greet a friend?" you teased, taking a step closer. "I was just admiring the flowers. They seem to like the sunshine—maybe you should give it a try."

Rollo’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to understand your motives. "I have no interest in trivial matters like sunlight. I have more important things to attend to."

"Of course you do," you said, rolling your eyes. "But maybe you should lighten up a bit. Enjoy life while you can."

Rollo’s expression hardened, clearly annoyed by your carefree attitude. "Not everyone indulges in hedonism like you, incubus."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "Who said anything about hedonism? I’m just suggesting you try having some fun."

"Fun," Rollo repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "Fun is not my priority."

"Maybe it should be," you said, giving him a sly look. "Life’s too short to be so serious all the time."

Rollo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his resolve clearly wavering. "You’re wasting your breath. I won’t be swayed by your... charms."

You grinned, leaning in just a little closer. "We’ll see about that."

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the way Rollo’s gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to wear him down.

Neige LeBlanche

Neige was a sweetheart—open, cheerful, and always kind-hearted. He found your presence comforting in a way that surprised even him. Despite your incubus nature, he was drawn to your charm, though it was clear you used it in a more subtle way around him.

One snowy evening, the two of you were out in the village, walking together under the falling snow. Neige was humming a soft tune, his usual cheery self, but there was a quiet warmth between you that wasn’t there before.

"You really like the snow, don’t you?" you asked, watching as Neige caught a snowflake on his finger.

He smiled, his cheeks rosy from the cold. "It reminds me of home. There’s something so peaceful about it."

You nodded, watching the way the snowflakes danced around him. "It suits you. You’re like a snow prince."

Neige laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. "That’s a sweet thing to say. But I’m just me."

"Just you?" you echoed, tilting your head. "Neige, you’re a lot more than just ‘you.’ You’re... warm. Kind. You make people feel at ease, even me."

Neige looked at you, surprised by your honesty. "I didn’t know you felt that way."

"Of course I do," you said with a smile. "You’re different from anyone I’ve met. Most people don’t look past the whole incubus thing, but you... you see more."

Neige’s smile softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand. "I don’t see you as an incubus. I see you as... someone special."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for once, you didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, you squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch against the cold winter air.

"Neige..." you began, but before you could say more, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "For being you."

You stood there in the snow, your heart racing as you realized just how much Neige meant to you. And for once, you let yourself enjoy the moment without any teasing or playful banter—just the quiet, tender connection between you and him.

Che’nya

If anyone was as mischievous as you, it was Che’nya. The two of you were a chaotic pair, always getting into some kind of trouble together. He found your incubus abilities amusing, often encouraging you to use them to mess with others. But when it came to the two of you, there was an unspoken understanding that your games were more than just harmless fun.

One day, you found Che’nya lounging in a tree, his signature grin plastered across his face. You jumped up to join him, perching on the branch beside him. "Up to no good again?" you asked, smirking.

"Always," Che’nya replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But what about you? I hear you’ve been causing quite the stir lately."

You grinned, leaning back against the trunk. "What can I say? It’s in my nature."

Che’nya chuckled, leaning closer to you. "You do have a way of stirring things up. But I wonder... what would happen if you turned your charm on me?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "Is that a dare?"

"It’s an invitation," Che’nya said, his grin widening. "Let’s see if you can out-charm me, incubus."

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his. "Careful what you wish for, Che’nya. You might just fall for me."

Che’nya’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a hint of something more in his gaze. "Maybe I already have."

For a moment, the playful banter between you fell away, replaced by a spark of real connection. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding that there was more between you than just teasing and games.

But, true to form, Che’nya was the first to break the moment with a laugh. "You’re good, I’ll give you that. But I’m not so easily won over."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "We’ll see about that."

As you jumped down from the tree, you glanced back at Che’nya, your grin widening. "I’ll be back to claim my victory, Cheshire."

Che’nya’s grin never faltered as he watched you walk away, but deep down, he knew that when it came to you, he was already losing the game.

Masterlist