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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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🎀 Cosplaying with Leona 🎀

🌸: My entry for the @briarvalleyarchives “New Beginnings” spring event

🌸: During this spring season, with new beginnings blooming left and right, Leona learns about and enters the wonderful world of cosplay with his gn!reader S/O who is a cosplayer

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🍓 Characters: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader who is a cosplayer. Leona and gn!reader are in an established romantic relationship. Other characters mentioned are Cheka Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, and Ortho Shroud.

🍓 Note: This headcanons + drabble post came to life because hi, I’m a cosplayer outside of Tumblr and if I was dating Leona irl, I would absolutely make him do couple cosplays with me >:)

🍓 Song rec I highly recommend: “SHOCK!” by Ayase

🍓 Other notes: Text borders used from the website Cute Kaomoji

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𓈒𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ┈ 𓈉 ┈ 𓈒 ┈ 𓈊 𓈒 ┈ 𓈉 ┈ 𓈒 ┈ 𓈊𓈒

🌸 The first time Leona saw you in cosplay, he did a double take. He’s not one to be surprised easily, but for a second, he thought that a whole new and random person broke into Ramshackle (that’s how good your cosplays are ;)).

🌸 He’s not into animes, Webtoons/webcomics, books, or any fandoms really. The only “fandoms” Leona’s even remotely a part of are those of Pro Magift teams, so he’s not familiar with cosplay. You have to explain to him all the cosplay terms, like “cosplan” (your future cosplay plans/projects), “costest” (testing out a cosplay), or even “con-crunching” (putting together your cosplay near the date of/or even the night before the convention).

🌸 Leona’s also not one to care about clothes much in general, but he knows the time and dedication you put into your cosplays…from the hours you spend putting together your cosplay to angling your phone camera just right when you film your cosplay videos.

🌸 If you’re trying to film a video in cosplay for TwstTok or Magicam either in your room in Ramshackle or Leona’s room in Savanaclaw (Leona’s room has better lighting tbh), Leona’s just laying on the bed on his stomach with his cheek resting in his palm as he gazes at you the entire time with a smirk.

🌸 He kept showering you with a ton of one-worded compliments such as “Breathtaking,” and positively relished seeing you break character while filming as a flustered expression creeped up onto your face at his compliments.

🌸 “Leona, can you please go outside for a few minutes?” you mumbled, your cheeks warming.

🌸 “I don’t wanna miss a second of your creative process,” Leona winked, to which you responded with a loving eye roll. He’s so down bad for you. Whenever you post your cosplay videos, he watches all your videos, likes them, and saves them on his private, never-active TwstTok account.

🌸 When you feel more comfortable with filming cosplay videos or doing self-photoshoots in cosplay around Leona, he becomes your cosplay partner-in-crime.

🌸 For example, fixing cosplay wigs are a pain and for a while, you didn’t have a wig mannequin (they’re expensive and Sage Island isn’t the best place geographically to receive online packages via shipping). Thus, you had the brilliant idea of using Leona as your wig model (even though his head shape and your head shape are completely different). He found cosplay wigs weird at first, until you asked him to try on one of your long and fluffy wigs, and the soft material of the wig made him fall in love with cosplay wigs right then and there.

🌸 “Just gimme a few minutes, herbivore,” Leona patted your cosplay wig on his head and laid down on his bed, out like a light and sleeping with his hands folded together on his stomach like a storybook princess. The flowy and wavy strands of your long wig fanned out around his shoulders and arms, and for a second, Leona really did look like one of those storybook princess cursed into eternal slumber. You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead.

🌸 Cheka, on the other hand, likes to use your cosplay wigs as disguises of sorts whenever the cub plays hide-and-seek with Leona.

🌸 Your and Cheka’s giggles filled Leona’s room as Leona turned around from facing the stone wall after counting to ten with one hand over his eyes. “Sigh…ready or not, here I come,” Leona indulged his five-year-old nephew in a game of hide-and-seek.

🌸 It didn’t take long for Leona to spot Cheka crouching down next to his bedside table. The cub took one of your long cosplay wigs earlier and wore it; the wig comically and practically covered the cub from head-to-toe. You tried your best to stifle your laughter as you sat on the right side of Leona’s bed, sewing a button onto your cosplay.

🌸 “Gee, I wonder where the furball could be,” sarcasm oozed from Leona’s voice as he sauntered over to his study desk just a few feet away from his bed. “Is he over…here?” Leona clicked his tongue and made a show of ducking under the desk to check.

🌸 Cheka’s adorable laughter grew in volume, to which Leona turned towards you. Leona winked at you, lifting a finger to his lips, before walking over to you. “I just can’t seem to find my beloved nephew anywhere,” Leona sighed. He perched at the edge of his bed, making sure he didn’t sit on your cosplay. “Where could he be? Got any ideas, herbivore?”

🌸 “Beats me,” you hummed, looping thread through the button’s hole. You and Leona were planning to attend a spring anime convention in Sage Island the next day (your first anime convention in Twisted Wonderland and with Leona), so you were officially “con-crunching.”

🌸 “Hm…” Leona rose from the bed and made his way over to Cheka. “What’s this? A furball?” Leona leaned down and scooped Cheka up in his arms.

🌸 “Oji-tan, you found me!” Cheka squealed, your wig almost falling off the cub as Cheka moved the strands of your wig away from his tiny face to look at Leona.

🌸 “Uh-huh, now it’s time for your nap,” Leona gently took your wig off of Cheka’s head. As if on cue, the cub let out a cute yawn and closed his eyes. After tucking Cheka in on the left side of his bed where your cosplay materials were well out of Cheka’s reach, Leona went over to you and gave you back your cosplay wig.

🌸 “We should do a family cosplay with Cheka someday,” you shot a soft smile at Leona. Leona went over to his study desk and plopped down onto the wooden chair in front of it. He sat backwards so that he faced you.

🌸 “Yeah,” Leona hummed, watching you secure the button in place on your cosplay. For the rest of that spring afternoon, you continued to work on your cosplay while Leona helped by handing you more thread, scissors, glue, etc. as Cheka napped.

🌸 The next day, you and Leona attended the “con” (short for “convention”). The two of you were decked out in a couple cosplay (you as a plumber and Leona as a princess from a popular video game). Even though it was barely noon, Leona was already annoyed by the con attendees who pushed past him or almost stepped on his toes in their cosplay heels and boots. He was intrigued, however, by some cosplayers’ extravagant props, and he appreciated their craftsmanship.

🌸 Leona’s usually not one to strike up conversations with strangers, but when you complimented fellow cosplayers’ outfits and props, Leona also chimed in with questions on how they made their props (and that just led to the cosplayers’ enthusiastic and lengthy answers about the materials they used and Leona listened with interest the entire time).

🌸 Leona found the Artist Alley and merch booths to be too crowded, and nothing really piqued his interest. Leona bought some prints and keychains of your favorite anime characters and fandoms for you. Artists gave you and Leona a lot of mini freebies like stickers and gushed over “how cute” you and Leona looked together in your couple cosplay (which Leona would respond with a grin and, “You got that right”).

🌸 Leona also couldn’t help but quirk a proud grin when a little kid with cosplayer parents ran up to you and asked you for a picture because you and Leona “looked so cool.” You noticed that Leona posed in-character for the picture with you and the kid, which made you love Leona all the more.

🌸 Leona took a ton of pictures for you at the con, both cool and professional-looking photos of you in cosplay (you taught him how to take better pictures lol) and off-guard derpy photos of you in cosplay when the two of you rested a bit in a tiny corner (Leona grumped about the lack of resting/sitting areas in the venue) after traveling around the convention venue for hours.

🌸 Even though this was his first con, Leona came to the con prepared (“Be prepared” is his motto, after all). Leona had a bag on his shoulder the entire time with your sneakers in it because he knew those uncomfortable shoes you wore with your cosplay would hurt your feet (for Leona, underneath his cosplay, he wore his everyday sneakers). After you changed into your sneakers and the two of you took a water break, the two of you traveled around the con some more.

🌸 The two of you even ran into Idia and Ortho, the former carrying multiple bags of merch (fan art, official merch, body pillows, what have you). You and Leona didn’t chat with the Shroud brothers long, since Idia scurried away to catch a panel hosted by his favorite anime voice actor and Ortho flew after him.

🌸 You and Leona returned to the Artist Alley near closing time, where there were thankfully less people. At a booth that sold more general trinkets than fandom-specific ones, Leona picked up some stuff like a donut keychain for Ruggie and a succulent keychain for Jack, and some other keychains or charms for other members of his dorm. You smiled to yourself; Leona always thought about others even if he wasn’t the best at showing it outright.

🌸 The last booth you and Leona went up to was a booth selling inexpensive rings (both fandom-specific and general rings). You noticed a pair of matching rings with a slim gold band. The rings’ gems were transparent water-drop ovals with teeny dried-up blush, marigold, emerald, and ivory flower petals inside.

🌸 “Leona, what do you think about getting matching rings?” The ring would pair perfectly with your spring outfits, and the dried-up flower petals in the rings’ gems reminded you of one of your and Leona’s favorite places: NRC’s Botanical Garden.

🌸 “Not too shabby,” Leona grinned as he leaned down to look at the rings with you. “Plannin’ on proposing to me already, huh, herbivore?” Leona then made a show of looking at his left hand, which made you laugh. He liked the rings too, and didn’t care that they weren’t made of real gold.

🌸 “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s proposed to their partner at a con,” The seller, a fae cosplaying a popular blonde spy character from an anime about spies and families, chuckled as they rang up your order.

🌸 Leona thought about the seller’s words as the two of you left the Artist Alley and ultimately the con after you bought the rings. As the two of you made your way through the venue to the exit, Leona thought about how he couldn’t imagine proposing to you or you proposing to him in front of hundreds of people at a con.

🌸 Leona knew himself well, and he knew two things at the moment: 1. He values his privacy and 2. If he was ever going to propose to you, which he planned to do so in the far, far future, it would be a private, intimate, and special moment for just the two of you.

🌸 Leona’s head then filled with thoughts of his proposal to you in the far, far future. He wondered what the two of you would wear during the proposal, whether it would be fancy clothes, pajamas, or even a couple cosplay. The quiet yet gushy smile on his face was apparent as he thought about all this.

🌸 “What’re you smiling about?” You smiled at Leona before unleashing a yawn. After a whole day at the con, you were ready for dinner and rest.

🌸 “Nothin’,” Leona replied with sly nonchalance. “Just that I like the rings you picked out for us.” He held out his right hand, where he wore his new ring on his right pinky.

🌸 You held out your left hand with your new ring on your left pinky before intertwining your left fingers with Leona’s right fingers. “I like them too.” The gems on your and Leona’s rings cast tiny rays of multi-colored light from the dried petals in front of the two of you as the sun began to set and its golden rays made their way through the glass building of the convention venue.

🌸 Hand in hand, you and Leona left your first (and definitely not last) con together.

𓈒𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ┈ 𓈉 ┈ 𓈒 ┈ 𓈊 𓈒 ┈ 𓈉 ┈ 𓈒 ┈ 𓈊𓈒

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Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :). Want more Leona romance fluff? Check out my masterlist

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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A New Beginning

Twisted Wonderland

Deuce overheard his mom speaking on the phone to his grandmother one night. Her words that night play in his head over and over again.

Word Count: 1842 ✯ AO3 Version

Characters: Deuce Spade, Deuce’s mom

Tags: Character Study, Light Angst, Minor Story Spoilers for cards and main story details to pertain to Deuce’s backstory, a few lines of dialogue lifted directly from main story

(A/N): This is my event entry for the prompt “New Beginnings” by @briarvalleyarchives ! I am…not very creative with titles…I hope you enjoy this short piece on Deuce and a brief look into his life before he would have received his letter from NRC.

“All I ever did in middle school was screw around… I was a terrible person that went as far as to use magic to lord over those who couldn’t.

Then, one night…I saw my mom hiding away tears as she called my grandma.

‘Was the way I raised him wrong?’

Even though none of it was her fault…

I swore that I would never make her cry again.”

Deuce slouched at his desk as he stared blearily ahead at the whiteboard, the writing on the board some assignment or other he couldn’t be bothered to focus on reading right now. The chatter of his classmates, whispering amongst themselves about his presence in the room, was nothing but a buzz of white noise as he mulled over the conversation he’d overheard his mom having with his grandma on the phone last night.

“Is it my fault for not being there for him more?” she’d all but sobbed into the phone.

“Tch.”

He scowled at the memory, scoffing at the classmates that flinched away from his glare. Exhaling and forcing his face to relax, he turned his back on them to stare out the window and watch the clouds, like his mom had taught him to when he got too irritated to contain it.

“Was the way I raised him wrong?”

He forced his jaw to unclench as the morning bell rang, forcefully focusing on the clouds while the teacher called roll.

“And now Spade, who - huh? Spade? You’re here today?”

He glanced over to find his home room teacher slack-jawed, the untrusting stares of his classmates crawling all over him.

“Well,” his teacher coughed, poorly attempting to compose himself, “if even the infamous Deuce Spade of all you failures can bother showing up for once, then maybe there’s hope for the rest of you lot making it to graduation yet.”

Deuce’s hands clenched as he focused on watching the clouds.

“Would it have been better if he had both parents?”

The morning lecture droned on too fast for him to grasp anything well enough to take notes that would make any remote sense. The class work that got passed around, when his classmates even bothered to give him a handout, might as well have been written with instructions done in gibberish.

“I…,” her voice cracked, dropping to such a whisper that Deuce had to strain his ears, “I feel like a stranger to him…I don’t…”

The whispers of his classmates….the whispers of his teachers…whispering, whispering about his presence in class, whispering about his “half-assed notes,” his “piss-poor class work,” whispering “Spade’s here? A fight’s sure to break out soon…”

“I don’t know how to reach him anymore…”

He bolted the minute the lunch bell rang, the patrolling teachers too used to his routine to even bother trying to stop him from jumping the school’s chain link fence. Some students hollered “Good riddance!” after him as he ran. Some of his fellow delinquents cheered and called out to him as he ran.

“I…I don’t want to give up on my baby…”

The voices all faded, one by one, until the only sound was that of his sneakers hitting the pavement and the surf of the sea that bordered town.

“When did I go wrong?”

Running, running, running…

“How did I…get to this point?”

Running, running until he reached the familiar shore on the edge of town that no one bothered visiting because it was more mangrove roots than an actual beach. Running until his knees hit the sand, face staring up at the clouds above as he shouted, “HOW DID I GET HERE?! WHAT AM I - ?!“

His lungs heaved as he slammed his hands down with a shout, sucking in air, “HOW COULD SHE THINK ITS HER FAULT?! I - I’M THE ONE WHO - WHO’S - !”

His fists clenched around sand, squeezing and squeezing until bits of shell and shards of pebbles dug painfully into his palms, a growl of aggravated frustration tearing from his throat as the tide came in and washed the sand out from under his fists and soaked his clothes.

“I don’t want to give up on my baby…”

The fight in him washed away with the receding tide, his shoulders slumping as he allowed himself one sniffle, sitting back on his heels.

“I’m the one who…I’m the one who’s been screwing around…And…And for what? Cuz sitting around in school was lame? Cuz doing projects and festivals was stupid?”

His fists clenched around the sand again, but it was loose and slipped through his fingers quickly in the ebb and flow of the afternoon high tide.

“I don’t understand any of the shit in class now…”

The ebb and flow of the waves nudged at him like a silent friend listening to all his deepest worries, like it always did. The sea never judged him.

“Ugh!” He scrubbed through his hair in a fit of irritation, but the sight of his bleached hair just made him even more agitated. “How could she think…?! I was the one…! I was the one who got a big head when the seniors showed me how to use my magic in a fight! I was the one who got a big head when they called me cool and showed me how to skip class! I was the one who…! Who…!”

His breath hitched as he remembered the ones who would flinch away from him in fear. The ones who would always shout “Good riddance!” whenever he’d leave to skip class for the day. Of the magicless classmates that’d pale if he so much as breathed in their direction. Of the teachers who gave up on him, one by one, and began instead to name him the culprit for every wrong doing he never did anytime something happened in school.

“I don’t want to give up on my son, mom. Don’t you dare say that about Deuce.”

He’d never picked a fight himself. He was in them all the time, sure, but he never actually started them himself. Sure, he looked down on the magic-less, but he never actually hurt anybody. He would never…he wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t go around harassing people. He didn’t…

“Maybe I went wrong somewhere. Maybe I should have been there for him more. But I…Sevens, why did I call you? I don’t want to give up on my son, mom. Don’t you dare say that about Deuce.”

He didn’t hurt people on purpose. He wasn’t a malicious person. He only ever wanted to be like the seniors he looked up to. He backed his friends up in fights. But, at some point…those friends…

“Deuce isn’t like that. No, I don’t know how to reach him. But I don’t want to give up on my baby. My baby isn’t like what they say and you know it.”

At some point, it always led to his friends dragging him into the wrong places at the wrong time more often than he was really comfortable with. At some point, it led to him not understanding any of the lectures in class anymore. At some point, it led to all his classmates being scared of him.

At some point, it led to no one believing in him.

“I’m not going to give up on my son.”

No one believed in him anymore. No one except that officer that always seemed to be around to give him an alibi to prove his innocence and the one who refused to give up on him despite it all…

“Mom…?”

She stood, wind-swept and still in her work uniform, in the shadows of where the sidewalk met the beach sand. She smiled, a weary, strained tug of lips that made his eyes sting, that stole any words he might have tried to say.

“I thought I might find you here. You’ve had a long day, yeah? You’ve always come here whenever something was extra bad. Let’s head home. I’ll make your favorites.”

Deuce nodded, swallowing painfully around the lump in his throat as he took her hand. She looked up at him in surprise and it hurt more than he wanted to admit. Her eyes tried to search his, but he was too ashamed to meet her gaze.

She sighed; a soft, fond sound. Just for him.

The drying salt of his pants clung to his legs, a scratchy feeling that grounded him just as much as his soaked socks and sneakers. They walked in silence, hand in hand like they used to, before he began insisting that he was much too grown and much too tough of man to be seen doing such prissy things as doting on his mom.

Before he began bleaching his hair, before he began wearing leopard print jackets, before he began wearing clip-on piercings, before he began wearing eyeliner to make himself look tough and before he ever began skipping classes.

“What…have I been doing with myself this whole time?”

By the time they reached home, their yard was cast in the orange glow of the setting sun and their mailbox was cracked open from the day’s post delivery. The two of them parted ways so that Deuce could unlock the door while his mom retrieved the mail.

A gasp startled him, so much so that he fumbled and dropped the keys, but he had no mind for the keys when he was too busy with what could have possibly shocked his mom like that.

His mom was holding a black envelope with a white wax seal, a stately raven printed right in the middle of it. He’d seen that exact letter before. He’d seen that exact same envelope before, in the hands of seniors past, who’d brought it with them to school to show off to anyone who’d look, to anyone who’d listen.

Boasting that the Night Raven College had reached out to recruit them for their magic.

His mother’s hands trembled as she fumbled to open the letter, her eyes just as wide as his were.

Boasting that entry into Night Raven College, on that Sage’s Island, was by invite only.

The letter in her hands shook so much that Deuce had to wonder if she could even read it properly, let alone process anything that it said.

Boasting of a school for elite mages, that those who were lucky to manifest magic could only ever dream of attending.

The shout of pure joy, the smile that stretched from ear to ear, left no doubt in Deuce that the letter was really meant for him, of all people. Him, the delinquent. Him, the one who wasn’t even sure he could even envision going to high school.

Him, who made his mother cry for him.

As his mom cried again that evening, letter crushed between them as she hugged him close, hugged him so tight that he felt like she was trying to prove to himself that he truly was in her grasp, in her reach…he couldn’t help but think…

This was a new beginning that he desperately needed.

Likes and reblogs are always loved and appreciated!

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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The Language of Flowers

☾ Genre: Fluff

☾ Warnings: N/A

☾ Pairing(s): Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

☾ Notes: Entry for the event "new beginnings from @briarvalleyarchives. I think Diasomnia fans deserve a nice fluffy treat for all that's happening.

Malleus believed that humans were selfish, greedy, and annoying cowards. Throughout his long life, the Fae Prince has seen humans steal from themselves and others. Bring down their own kingdoms and destroy his people’s lands. He truly believed that most, if not all, humans were the most despicable things in the world. But even so, he could not deny that they were interesting.

Even though they touch everything that they destroy, humans were able to rebuild as well. He has seen the gardens they have built. The families they created. The art that they made. He has seen them thrive no matter the circumstances they faced. Humans were abhorrent creatures, yes, but the select few were admirable beings.

Malleus rarely took any time to research them. Yes, some humans lived in Briar Valley, but most kept to themselves and the families that they surrounded themselves in. They were rarely in the castle and although he had run into a few of them in the woods, Malleus never stayed any longer than he needed to. So, when he found himself falling for the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm—a magicless human, at that—he was not quite sure what to do. He was not well versed in human courting rituals and any advice he took from other humans did not seem good enough. The Prefect had captured his heart without him knowing, but as they were human, he was not sure where to go about courting them.

How does one capture a human’s cruel heart?

That was the first question Malleus had asked Lilia. He was the one to suggest that they attend Night Raven College so that the Fae Prince may expand his knowledge on humans and other species around Twisted Wonderland. He should be able to provide Malleus with the means of courting a human.

“How about flowers?” his caretaker suggested.

The pair sat in one of the black velvet couches in Diasomnia’s lounge. Green light emanated from the candles sitting on the brass candle holders that dotted the dorm, providing enough light to make up for the lack of windows inside. Lilia cradled a glass of tomato juice in his hands, sitting on the left end of the couch as Malleus held a mug of black coffee, sitting on the right end. The other residents in their dorm were fast asleep, leaving the two faeries to themselves and their conversation.

“That suggestion was given to me too many times to count,” Malleus stated. It was a repetitive proposition that was given to him by both Vil, Riddle, Cater and any other humans that he came across. He did not quite understand why giving them such a simple thing as a bouquet would make the Prefect happy. Flowers would not last as long as his love for them, but gold and gems would.

Alas, the last time he tried to give the Prefect a wonderful emerald necklace, they rejected his offer stating that they could not possibly take something so valuable. “I still don’t get why the Prefect won’t accept the gems and gold that I have given to them.” He sighed, feeling an ache in his chest as he remembered his latest gift being pushed back into his hands.

“Young Master, you must remember that the Prefect is a normal human,” Lilia chided, taking a sip from his cup. “Gems and gold are not the standard for them, not to mention it’s more inline with families like the Al-Asims.”

“If I can’t give gems, nor gold, then what shall I give them?” It was how dragon fae courted each other. Showering each other with the shiniest gifts that they could afford was the way that Malleus was taught to court others; although, it was assumed that he would take a fae lover, not a human. “And I do have the intent of marrying them!”

Malleus watched as Lilia sighed before placing down his tomato juice and snapped his fingers. A book appeared in his hands titled: A Guide to Floriography. Sitting up from his seat, Malleus leaned in closer as his caretaker flipped through the yellowed pages before stopping and meeting Malleus’s gaze. “I am well aware of your feelings towards the Prefect and flowers are a sure-fire way for you to properly confess your infatuation with them. It would help bring your relationship to the next level, so to speak.”

The prince looked at the green book in Lilia’s hands. Floriography was something that he was not interested in, and although he may know the meaning of a select few flowers, it was not important in his eyes. But if something as simple as a bouquet would be able to reach the Prefect’s heart, then he would send them one.

“Very well, I’ll play along.”

Lilia clapped his hands together and with a grin states, “Splendid! Let us begin.”

It was late at night when you heard the doorbell of Ramshackle ring throughout its halls. Grim was already sound asleep in your bed, snoring and muttering under his breath. The ghosts had already retired for the night as well. You were the only one awake at that hour and knowing the headmage, he must have sent something for you to take care of. Again.

With a heavy heart in their chest, you walked towards the front door. Upon opening it, a beautiful bouquet set in a green vase was the only thing left on the porch. Confused, you looked around the area, seeing nothing but darkness and the flicker of lights from the college. You didn’t know what this was for, but you did have an inkling of who might have given it. After all, Malleus wasn’t known as one of the greatest wizards for nothing. It wouldn’t be surprising for him to poof! into existence in front of your doorstep, drop off the flowers, and then disappear again.

Picking up the vase, you noticed the thorny vines and flowers painted around the vase glinting in the moonlight. A yellow card caught your attention. A gust of cold wind hit you, and you quickly went inside to avoid the cold. Once the door was shut, you looked back at the card tied to one of the stems of the flowers and read it:

My dear beloved,

For the last few weeks, I have been attempting to court you. I was not sure how humans started their courting rituals, so I started courting you in the way that I might court a faerie. I apologize for that as it seems that my intentions were not clear for my affections for you.

I shall make them clear right now.

My dear, since the night that we have met, I have been enraptured by you and your personality. I cannot say all that I feel through words alone, so I will let the flowers help me—as silly as that sounds. I will start with the ones on the vase.

Briar Rose – I Am Wounded

Initially, I was offended that you had rejected my gifts. Most people from my kingdom would be honored for such riches, but I forget that you are human and not of this world. So, while I am no longer wounded, I still feel the sting of rejection whenever I remember the returned gifts given back to me. Now, onto the bouquet.

Carnations – Fascination

The night that we had met, I admit that I was running from my guards. I had wanted to look at the beautiful gargoyles that sat atop the ledges of Ramshackle dorm and one such guard claimed that it was far too late for such a thing. I disagreed and went anyway. When you emerged from your dorm to see me, I was surprised that you had not known me, so I allowed you to give me a name. It took quite a while for you to find out my identity, but I still like the fact that you call me “Tsunotaro.” An interesting name and one that I cherish.

Red Chrysanthemums and Forget-Me-Nots – I Love You and True Love

I have loved throughout the years, but none as strong as my affections for you. Love is not something that is readily available for the fae, yet humans seem to have an affinity for it along with destruction. It’s funny. We are not able to lie so you would think that we would wear our hearts on our sleeves, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. We keep our hearts to ourselves, as close as we can, so for me to lay it bare before you and allow you to take it is something of great significance towards me, and I hope for you.

White Heather and Orange Blossoms – Protection and Innocence

You know nothing of this world, that much is certain, my dear. You have been moved from your home world to mine and knowing all the dangers that this world possesses, I vow to keep you safe. Innocence is something that is not common in this world, but naivety is. You have both and as amusing as it is, I know that if you were to leave these grounds and get hurt, I would never forgive myself for not being there with you. However, orange blossoms also represent eternal love; the love that I have for you. So even when you pass, know that I have loved you and will continue to love you until the day I inevitably pass as well.

Jonquil – Desire For Affection

If you are still reading this letter, I am sure by now that I have gotten my feelings across to you. Now all I yearn for is your affection in return. I wish to see you every morning with a smile on your face. I wish to have your arms around me, holding me gently. I wish to be with you, and I hope that you would allow me to be by your side. If you return my affections, please meet me tomorrow night outside of your dorm and give me your answer.

Yours,

Malleus Draconia

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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To Her Light (Twst one-shot fanfic)

Summary: He remembered the echoes of those very few lives that had been dear to him, and he wished she could come back and whisper to him and tell him how to cradle a life the way she did.

Word count: 798

Warning: Referenced character death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This is for the event “new beginnings” from @briarvalleyarchives. As usual I find a way to change a very positive and hopeful prompt into angst 🤡 Also, this fic was inspired by a very very looong delusional conversation with @chernabogs about Lilia hahaha thank you my friend~

*This fic is also on Ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilia always carried himself with dignity when in the presence of royalty, but today, he grovelled before the Queen, with both his knees on the ground and his eyes facing down, shut tight, and he wished, oh how he wished this fate could’ve fallen on some other poor soul, some other poor souls.

“Queen Maleficia,” he said, where others would have been frozen in fear, his throat was burning in guilt, “They are dead.”

He felt the air pulled into the room. He heard her sceptre violently struck against the ground once. And his weak, weak arms only wrapped more tightly against the egg in his embrace while her emerald flames spread throughout the chamber silently, hauntingly, as if a mindless wraith extending its curse to drown all that is living. His legs were burning inside his armour, he was kneeling in hell, and still he only held the egg tighter, and tighter.

Keep reading

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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When I’m with you, I’m in utopia

Genre: Romantic Fluff.

Characters: Malleus Draconia, GN!Reader, Lilia Vanrouge.

Summary: Wherein you and Malleus spend your first date skating and holding hands.

Warnings:

Malleus is OOC, excessively cheesy and smitten with the reader.

Lilia third wheeling and crashing your lovey dovey moment.

Part of the New Beginnings event, hosted by @briarvalleyarchives

.*･ﾟ

Standing in the middle of the ice rink, you stared at Malleus, awestruck and stunned at how he warmly smiled at the strangers around him.

Eyes filled with pure joy and adoration, you watched him skating with children of different ages.

A genuine smile graced your lips at the sight of him.

Before you crossed paths with him, you didn't know what it felt like to look at someone and smile for no reason.

After meeting him and letting him in your life, you were blessed to experience that feeling. Flowers started to blossom in the dustiest corners of your heart, and your smile was shining once again.

“Boo!” A pair of strong hands pushed you lightly from behind, startling you.

“Lilia!” you screeched, but before you could balance yourself, it was already too late.

With a light thud, you fell down on the icy ground.

Lilia’s playful laughter and childish giggles resonated over the massive place.

With a teasing grin, he waved a hand in the air and skated far away from you.

“Are you alright?” Malleus gracefully glided where you fell, making a smooth stop in front of you.

“I’m okay.” Looking up, you assured him with a timid smile.

“I thought you were good at this.” A soft chuckle erupted from him as he extended his hand.

“I used to be when I was a child.” you admitted sheepishly, taking his waiting hand in yours.

“Then let me teach you.” Malleus helped you get up, placing an arm around your shoulder.

“It’s fine. I’ll observe out there, and wait for you and Lilia.”

“You paid for this, sweetheart. Besides it’s crowded there. I can’t leave you out of my sight.”

“Oh god,” you blushed at his remark. “I won’t be far from your sight. I’ll be sitting on the bench over there.”

“Please allow me to guide you, my dear y/n. I don’t want our first date to go to waste.” Malleus tugged at your hands, pleading with his bright green eyes.

“I’m a clumsy learner though.” With an adorable pout, you finally gave in.

“Don’t worry about it. Even if you fall and trip a thousand times, I’ll gladly endure it.” A soft, heart-stopping smile painted his lips, a smile reserved for you only. “I promise you y/n, I won’t let go of you.”

A short silence suddenly swooped in upon realizing the weight of his last statement.

Nonetheless, he meant it. He really meant it.

Malleus looked the other way to calm his racing heart and regain his composure.

You on the other side set your head downcast, hiding your flustered, rose-tainted red cheeks.

The two of you went to an empty corner, doing nothing but holding hands and basking in each other’s closeness, comforting presence and gentle warmth.

To the crowd of onlookers, it was nothing but a simple and fleeting moment, but to you and Malleus it was more than that.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Malleus?”

“Looking at you like what, darling?” He asked, eyes glimmering with deep affection.

“Like you’re about to kiss me.” you blurted out, heart thumping and swooning at the way he looked at you.

Malleus tilted his head and smiled at you, the lights of a thousand suns dancing in his eyes.

People weren’t stars, but he was the most beautiful and brightest sun your eyes had ever gazed upon.

Letting go of his hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, waiting to be kissed when a sharp gust of air blew in the midst of your sweet moment.

“How dare you ruin our first kiss!” Malleus snapped, throwing a piercing glare at the mischievous culprit.

“Hold my hand, too.” Lilia smiled innocently, outstretching his hands in a childish manner.

Sighing softly, you and Malleus took Lilia’s hands, spending the rest of the afternoon skating to your heart’s content, and trying different kinds of food from the snack bar.

Your first date might not be perfect, but it was well-spent with Malleus Draconia, the person you loved the most, and you won’t have it any other way.

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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A Dance Towards the Light

Genre: Romantic Fluff.

Characters: Malleus Draconia, GN!Reader.

Summary: Wherein Malleus was darkness incarnate, but his love for you was like dancing towards the light.

Warnings:

Reader is half fae/human.

The ending takes place decades after graduating.

Malleus is the sunshine boy. Reader is the brooding/angsty partner, but no mention of angst.

Part of the New Beginnings event, hosted by @briarvalleyarchives

.*･ﾟ

Such a peculiar pair of lovers you were, you and Malleus Draconia, an ill-fated match made in heaven.

People mocked you that you wanted a tragedy, always taunting you that you will love him, and love him, and love him until it it kills you and destroys your heart beyond repair.

But they were entirely wrong.

With Malleus Draconia, you’ve fallen right into the love you’ve found.

His love was far from tragic. His love was beautiful beyond words, more beautiful than epic romance books and paperback fairytales.

When things ended for you, he was a fresh new start. He was the sun that rose in your life again.

He was everything you dreamed of.

He holds your hands during long walks until the sun sets.

He sits with you on a rooftop at one in the morning, and talks about how strange life is.

He dances with you when the sky is pouring rain.

He sends you lavender-scented love letters when he misses you during the days he can’t spend time with you.

He impresses you with his own composed songs, and serenades you with them late at night.

He writes stories about you, for you are his muse and writing is his favorite form of art.

He celebrates your happiness, respects your boundaries, and loves you greatly in the way you want to be loved.

People labeled your romance as straight out boring, utterly dull, and not worthy to gush about.

But what do they know? They only get a glimpse of the surface, but the depths of your bond was hidden from the prying eyes of repulsive onlookers.

A quiet, gentle, slow burn love was all you dreamed of, and those little moments were all you could ask for.

.*･ﾟ

It was early Sunday morning when you woke up, sprawled on the wooden floorboards of the solarium.

The solarium was a dreamscape created by Malleus, a secret place where only the two of you had access to. It was a quiet place for you to rest in when the world gets too loud.

Slats of sunlight spilled dazzlingly through the cracks of the ceiling.

The room was drunk on the pleasant scent of lily of the valley, lilac and gardenia, pleasant enough to send a sense of tranquility through your body.

Blinking away the drowsiness, you rolled at your husband’s side, taking your time to marvel at his captivating beauty.

Malleus’s profile appeared so serene in the sunshine, his glorious black hair catching the bright rays, making him look like he was wearing a crown of daylight stars.

“The only thing I’ve been dreaming of is eternal happiness with you. It doesn’t have to be fancy or perfect.” Gazing at him, you hummed to the song that you sang to him on your wedding day. “The only thing I want is you. Don’t worry, l believe. Always, l believe. I won’t forget this moment. In my arms, l believe your smile will never lose its light.”

“Cause your love is so sweet, you are my everything. I’m not just saying this because I’m happy.” A dreamy sigh escaped your lips as you carried on. “I will never change, I won’t change. I’ll only have eyes for you.”

“You’re the light of my life, you’re the one in my life. Even if I lose everything, I will never regret it.” Malleus cut you off in a voice so entrancing. “And keep loving you with the everlasting love in my heart.”

“Your Majesty, the King of my heart, why do you always interrupt me during that part?” you chortled, quirking a brow at your husband who just woke up.

Or maybe he was awake all along?

“Because that’s my favorite part.” Malleus replied delightfully, his smile caught in the sunlight, an alluring smile that puts you in a dreamy state.

You blushed in return with a bashful smile adorning your face.

“Did you stay up all night writing a book about me again?” you asked when your eyes landed on the pens and the crumpled papers scattered on the floor.

“You know that that’s one of my ways to get rid of the tiredness of my day, right darling?” Malleus raised his hand, blue ink-stained fingers tracing your face with utmost gentleness. “And who else am I going to write about? You’re my one and only muse.”

“What’s the story about this time?” Taking his hand in yours, you kissed the inked smudged spots.

“I wrote about how loving you is truly a magnificent and splendid adventure.”

A shy flutter touched your heart. Even after all those years, your husband still managed to steal your breath away like the first time you met him.

“My dearest king, am I truly worthy of the love you write about?”

You never doubted him, but a little reassurance wouldn’t hurt sometimes.

“Of course.” Malleus pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead, a kiss filled with a love so deep and sincere. “You’re my wonderfully chaotic partner. A beautiful perfectly put together mess. You’re always worth it to me.”

No doubt, even if you were a walking catastrophe, he would still choose you.

Even if the flowers wilt and the roses wither away, his love for you would keep on blooming.

Even if the stars burn out, he would be the light that never fades and he would still love you the same.

You’ve never heard a declaration of love so honest and so sweet, a love that has found a home within your heart and soul.

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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the time of spring has come, dear readers! let us celebrate with sweet drinks, a cool breeze, and a tissue box to share among the ones whose noses can't quite take the increase of pollen.

❝A FIRST SPRING❞

❦summary; there's not much pollen in the sea, now is there? or at least one merfolk have encountered before.

♪the characters in this story; azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech

✎word count;

❀what do the ghosts say?; no reader x character relationships, platonic, set during azul's first time on land, not canon-accurate, azul suffering allergies, he does not know what's going on, leech twins tease him about it but they still take care of him in their weird eel ways

☛the author's notes; a part of the @briarvalleyarchives new beginnings event! i wanted to be mean to azul and no i'm not projecting on azul again y'all are crazy /s

☪look at the catalogue?

Azul had always been curious about the seasons on land when he was younger. Books can only go so far and the young mer was desperate to learn more, among other things, about life on the land. An invite to the prestigious Night Raven College had Azul ecstatic, to be recognized by that famous Dark Mirror only boosted his confidence and determination to become better than the child he once was.

And while he thought he had long abandoned those childhood dreams he deemed foolish, a small shred of him was excited to experience the changing seasons.

Azul’s first year began during autumn, when the leaves were colored all types of oranges, reds, gold, and warm colors. It brought a sparkle to his eyes at the sight, the colors so vibrant despite the description other students had of ‘the trees just dying’. To Azul, it was like one last goodbye, one last beautiful display before the more barren of winter.

Even if it was barren, winter looked so beautiful. Although he felt homesick, not able to go home due to the freezing temperatures of the ocean, Azul found himself staring out the window to the snow covered grounds time and time again, glistening like hidden jewels in the sun. While the coldness and odd wetness of the snow didn’t appeal to the octo mer, this still didn’t stop Azul from looking from classroom windows. He just took a longer route whenever there was a bit more snow on the path than he liked.

The next season was the one that Azul was most excited about. He had read so much about the flowers that bloomed and sprouted after harsh winters, the flora that decorated the trees. And, oh, when Azul saw all of that and more, he couldn’t believe his eyes. That childish twinkle seemed to be sparked once more as he stared and watched and observed the outside.

What Azul didn’t know was the pollen that was sprinkled through the air. He awoke one morning to a tickle in his nose. Azul only rubbed his nose, carrying on with his day as normal. Unfortunately, the day didn’t continue on as normal.

Around second period, Azul could feel his eyes watering at the edges. It was uncomfortable, along with the fact that his morning sniffle came back again, this time tickling his nose enough to cause him to sneeze. It was a quiet sneeze, something that could be described as a kitten sneezing.

With the day carrying on further, Azul kept on sneezing, louder and louder, more frequent and more hindering to his day. His handkerchief was a constant presence in his hands, raised and ready to catch any sneezes that were bound to come soon.

He did his best to hold them in, but that only made it worse, the sneeze after that coming with two times the force and making Azul jump in his seat. By day’s end, Azul felt exhausted, head dizzy and unable to breath well from his nose, collapsing onto the bed.

“Azuul~” Ah. Another problem Azul didn’t need at the moment.

Two fingers poked at Azul’s sides, making the mer’s body flinch at the touches and Azul to let out a muffled groan against his pillow. Then, Jade’s voice came close against Azul’s ear, a playful tint to his words as he spoke.

“Hmm? What's got you so down Azul?”

“Azul’s all flat like a stingray!”

“Yes, yes, I can see Floyd.”

Azul felt that now familiar tickle before he was about to sneeze and, not wanting to spread snot all over his covers, raises his head quickly, turning his head and sneezing. Jade leaned back, eyes widening just the slightest bit. Floyd laughed loudly, giggling at this sight.

“Azul’s all sneezy! Ehehe!”

Azul groaned, wiping his nose for what seemed like the umpteenth time with his handkerchief.

“Shut up Floyd... Perhaps I’m just... a-adapting to land...”

There was a chuckle from Jade, that type of chuckle that felt like he knew something more than he said. But Azul wasn't in much of a mood to interrogate the eel. He laid his head back down on his pillow, groaning as his eyes fluttered shut, another wave of exhaustion hitting him every time his eyes shut for a second.

“You seem tired, Azul. I believe Floyd and I will have to bother you later.”

Azul let out a small relieved sigh, pressing his face back into his pillows, knocking out soon after.

When he woke up the next day, Azul felt quite alright, his stuffy nose clearing up. With this, he felt confident that he could make it through the day today.

He did not. The same cycle began all over again, his nose slowly getting more clogged and more sneezing occurring throughout the day.

“I’m fine!” Azul claimed. “Just adjusting to a new area,” Azul said. And then, at the end of the day, he passed out in his room, head dizzy, nose tinted red and eyes teary.

After the fourth day of this, this time in history, the sneezes start to annoy even Trein, who stops teaching at another of Azul’s sneezes.

“Ashengtotto, please, go to the nurse’s office.”

Azul froze at the command, the first year blinking a few times in disbelief. “But sir, I—”

“Go, now. Lay down and rest, you clearly have allergies.”

Oh, Azul wanted to either crawl into a deep hole or burst into a furious blush. It seems that Azul decides for the latter as he gets up from his seat, head facing down as he quickly vacates the room towards the nurse’s office. The only thing he does is lay on one of the beds, almost pouting at the fact he was sent out of class for some measly sneezes. It’s not even that bad!

Sure, his nose has been stuffed for the better part of the week and sure, it’s been a while since he’s known what a clear nose felt like, but he could push through it, he swears!

The nurse tells him that he has pollen allergies when they check him and make him take allergy medicine.

Once again, Floyd and Jade always seem to come whenever Azul is not needing them the most.

“My, my, what’s happened to you this time Azul?” The two twins lean over Azul in bed, grins wide as their teeth seem to gleam. To anyone else, this would be what their paralysis demons look like, but to Azul, really, it feels more like a normal Wednesday.

Azul groaned softly, an arm over his eyes as he sniffled, glasses on the side table.

“Ugh... the nurse says I have allergies.”

Floyd crouches down next to the bed, laying his arms on the mattress and looking at Azul. “Mm? What does that mean?”

Jade pipes up, smiling at his twin. “It means that the pollen from the recent spring flowers are irritating Azul’s nose and his body believes it’s an attack on the immune system.”

Azul’s almost closing eyes snap open and flick over to Jade, still smiling that calm smile of his. Floyd lets out a soft ‘oooh’ before poking Azul’s cheek.

“Your body is dumb Azul. Tell it to stop.”

“How long have you known that Jade?” Ignoring Floyd’s comment, Azul turns his spinning head to Jade, awaiting an answer. And then he chuckles, his smile spreading a bit wider.

“Oh for a little while. I read it in a book that was given to me during our transition period.”

Azul could feel his eye twitch, taking in a deep breath before turning over onto his side.

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Ooh! Me too, me too!”

Before Azul can protest, Floyd quickly climbs onto the bed with him, holding another pillow and blanket he probably took from another bed. Floyd gets comfortable too quickly, arms wrapped around Azul tightly, head nuzzling into the pillow.

“Wha-?! Floyd!”

“Oh, let me join in.”

Jade then climbs onto bed, taking the other side of Azul, arms wrapped around Azul too quickly for him to protest.

Trapped between two eels, wrapped tightly in their hold, and a dizzy head, all Azul could do was accept his fate and sigh. He yawned softly.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, this was quite comfy for Azul, being tightly held like this. His eyes started to slip closed, but he had no qualms about it, letting himself fall into a refreshing sleep.

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briarvalleyarchives · 11 months

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Ataraxia

N. A state of serene calmness; of freedom from worry, and anxiety.

They tell you many things about what happens when a mage overblots. Often it occurs in stages, contrary to the belief of many. It begins with an emotion, a negative, itching feeling, which worms into your mind and speaks in a voice only you can hear. Then, it finds power—through you, through other means. You don’t always notice the stone turning black until it’s far too late, and at that point it just feels better to give in than to try and fight back. So what if a phantom overtakes you? So what if you become this lonely, incomprehensible beast, with only a hunger to drive your existence? If you forget who you are, or who you were, and those who knew you once before?

See, what they don’t tell you is what happens to the mages that overcome a blot. Those few instances become side notes—something mentioned as an ‘oh yes, and—’ at the bottom of a page, which you need to squint at to read and half of the time you don’t see at all. No light is given to the aftermath, to the comprehension of what happened or the slow process of recovery. No light is given to those seeking out their new beginnings.

But they exist. They are a tale of their own.

Riddle

He would classify what happened as more of a slow build than an all-at-once incident. He considers it like a game of Jenga, where the blocks of his put-together persona are built up in a tottering manner, and it only took one small error to send it crashing in a fit of black, tar-like magic and overly aromatic roses. He considers blaming his mother for it—after all, it’s by her hand that he’s like this—and then he briefly considers blaming himself for it, as well. Martyr guilt, some might call it; he’ll fall on his own sword before blaming others for his behavior. But not every man is a martyr, and sometimes one needs to realize that they aren’t the designers of their own person. Personalities are like patchwork, and a mother who expects only perfection most certainly has a few threads woven in there.

When he came through, he wept. It was cathartic, to cry openly for the first time in a long time, to express himself in a way that was often frowned upon at home. It was equally surreal to receive comfort for those tears, whereas he’d often only receive scoldings if it were in front of his mother. Apologies were exchanged, a tea party was held, and the sun came out again.

But what about when the party ended?

It was an ironic rebirth of sorts. A light shining on a new path for him; his friends were more aware of his emotions, he saw more clearly that they cared, and this combined with the stifling meetings with a counselor functioned as a sort of rehabilitation. Did he still lose his temper? Yes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks in a single day, it’s a gradual process. But did he collect himself more and take responsibility for these acts? Yes, because despite not being able to teach an old dog a trick in a day, the dog will still learn, nonetheless. It won’t be perfect, but it will be a start.

Even now, as he sits at the unbirthday party and watches as Ace and Deuce break yet another one of the Queen’s rules, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. The white roses smell sweet today, the sun is warm on his skin. He hears his friends laughing and tastes strawberry tart on his tongue. He is okay. He is okay, and he can learn to let it go—even if he will certainly be making a comment to the duo later.

It’s a beautiful day.

Leona

Rather than address it, he prefers to pretend it never happened. In the back of his mind he knew what he had done, and what had happened as a result. He won’t say he was envious—after all, what does he have to be envious of?—but he will acknowledge that perhaps, just perhaps, he’d let his emotions get the best of him for once. The slow erosion of being seen as second to all for one’s entire life is unnoticeable right up until the cliffside crumbles, as it did when he overblotted on that field where the scent of sand and dead grass clung to the stifling air that surrounded them.

When he came through, he didn’t weep—not like some. Was he disappointed in himself? Absolutely. Did he, admittedly, feel a sense of concern over the wellbeing of Ruggie and the others? Absolutely, but he couldn’t tell them that. Ruggie would never let him live it down. Did he tell the counselor he was mandated to meet all these thoughts, this hurt, this feeling of inadequacy he privately battled since he was a child? In a way. He couldn’t give up too much of himself, you know.

He began to see it as a challenge. In the dawn of the coming days, of the new mornings, he took it as an impromptu educational piece. Yes, there were conversations with Farena in private about what happened—his brother was concerned, much to Leona’s mild interest—and this served as to form a sort of understanding between the two Kingscholars. He began to see Ruggies efforts in a new light, and even forced himself to interact with his dorm more. He attended classes (reluctantly, at first) and was more actively involved in extracurriculars. His overblot had, in a roundabout way, re-motivated him to try.

The grass doesn’t smell dead anymore. The air is a bit cooler as he rests on the sidelines, watching the rest of the spelldrive club warm up. A breeze rustles through his hair and he fights the urge to close his eyes and just fall asleep. He raises his water bottle to his lips, squinting out across the field, and exhales slowly. Someone calls out his name, and he looks their way.

It’s a beautiful day.

Azul

He thinks it may be a desire to have control that drove him to do it. At least, that’s what the counselor said.

When he was younger, his parents divorced—and it wasn’t amicable. There was conflict, arguments and chaos. He was shuttled from his mother to his father to his mother again and this, on top of the bullying he endured in school, made him feel like he had no say in anything in his life. He strove to become better than anyone else, not only to stave off the comments, but to make his mothers life easier as she carried a burden of newfound single parenthood. It instilled an anxiety in him, and when that anxiety was robbed in one, catastrophic moment, it sent him spiraling in a fear that impacted everyone around him.

He was embarrassed. It’s understandable, considering the cool, collected persona he’d presented himself with for so many years. To snap like that before all his peers and then to just cry left… a sour taste in his mouth. He had a fear that he’d lose a lot more than his reputation because of his actions—his friends, for example, and his role as a dorm leader. Jade and Floyd both told him they were sticking around, though, and no one else seemed too keen on taking over Octavinelle from him, and so he began to think that he could relax a little.

But he couldn’t. Every time he looked at that vault, he wanted to crawl under his desk. He drowned himself in work and hoped that by going back to what he was before, everyone would forget about the incident entirely. The twins called him out on it in a rare moment of seriousness from both—even Floyd was unusually composed—as they told him, quite frankly, he needed to speak about it. That they had long overlooked the situation, but he needed to sort things out himself before it can be concluded.

So he did. It was a weird journey of introspection on his end. He spoke with his mother, and with the counselor. He spoke with Idia, which was very strange, and the twins—although he’s not sure if they really were listening or just pretending to stave off work hours. But the more he spoke, the more he found himself feeling settled, and soon it was enjoyable again to speak of contracts, and business ventures, and all the possibilities before him that he could just grab as his own.

His pen taps a document as he reads it for the fourth time. It’s a new idea for the Lounge he’s been toying with for a while. Outside, he can hear Floyd’s cackling as he no doubt inflicts some terror on an unexpecting customer, followed shortly by Jade’s quiet chastising. His lips curl into a grin as he listens before he sits back in his seat and closes his eyes, for just a moment.

It’s a beautiful day.

Jamil

It’s Najma who finds out about it in the end, and he considers that as the worst possible result. In his mind, he had done an excellent job at shielding her from many of the harsher realities of the Viper’s roles; servitude, which it was, was not always gold plates and parties. When one is denied their own autonomy for so long and told to constantly put another on a pedestal before them, it’s understandable that the frustration would eventually boil over. They say that a naivety towards the imbalance between the world of the wealthy and the world of the poor is the most fatal mistake any nation can make—and Jamil considers that a hard truth.

When his overblot ended and Scarabia was in chaos, his mind immediately went to one thought: my parents. The consequences of his actions would create a ripple effect that wouldn’t only affect him, but his parents, and Najma, and the entire Viper family reputation. When Kalim told him not to worry, with that same sunny and forgiving smile on his face, Jamil wanted to scream. The rest of Scarabia treated him like a pariah for a while, as they should, but Kalim. It was always Kalim.

It took a while for him to come down from everything. Speaking with a counselor contributed a little, and then when Najma calls him and the ugly truth spills out, the unshakable bond between brother and sister rears its head at last—and he listens. Kalim grants him more spotlight and in turn, Jamil becomes more amicable. He doesn’t call them friends quite yet (Kalim does, though) but he’d consider them as competitive equals. The world continues to turn, and Jamil finds himself turning with it, just with a voice for himself now.

It’s on a particularly muggy day that it finally hits him. The scent of spices and cooking meat fill the kitchen as Jamil alternates between one pot to the next, his mind falling into that comfortable monotony that cooking so often brings him to. When he puts a lid over a pan of stir fry and glances up at the light of the kitchen, he pauses. A strange, and sudden thought rises, and he sets the spoon down, looking around the empty kitchen in a near state of wonder. He’s here, on his own accord, cooking for himself, and he isn’t feeling stressed. There aren’t a million thoughts or worries in his mind. He knows where Kalim is, he knows what the students are doing, and he’s just… here.

A small laugh escapes from his lips before he shakes the thought away and turns back to his dishes. How silly, how unexpected.

It’s a beautiful day.

Vil

When he was younger, he would watch his father perform, and ever since the first time he saw that curtain close at the end of a show, he knew that was exactly where he was meant to be. Hard work begets grand rewards—that’s the mantra he’s always lived by—but no one really talks about the giving one must do to get those rewards. Yes, he has success—he’s a renowned model and actor, after all—and yes, he has a reputation. But it isn’t for the roles he desired, and slowly, slowly, a seed of resentment began to grow. He always thought he was self-aware, but he isn’t, because he never noticed that seed growing into a tree filled with rotten fruit until the moment his magic lost control.

It was numbing. He remembers coming through, and then performing right after. He remembers seeing how exhausted everyone else was and knowing he was the cause. When the curtain finally closed and the lights went out, it felt like he was standing alone on that stage, staring at the burning pyre he had constructed from his own unchecked feelings. Was he proud? Was this what he wanted all along?

It was when his father called him with that parental fear in his voice, swearing up and down that he’d cancel everything and come to Vil right now, that Vil found himself pouring out his own feelings on the matter. The beautiful thing about a parent is that they’ll always forgive you, no matter what you’ve done. He was crying when he told his father every ugly, dredging feeling he’s experienced; every thought, every fear, and the more he talked, the more he felt that old tree with the rotting fruit within his heart begin to fall away. Eric Venue may not understand the complexities of magic himself, but he certainly loves his son, and it was after that long, long phone call that Vil came to realize a few things.

First, he apologized, and found that he was already well and forgiven. Rook was simply happy to have him back to his usual self, and although Epel grumbled a bit, it was hard to miss that glint of relief in his gaze as well. Then, he made amends. He paid for renovations, stormed into a reverse-anti-aging pit for a friend, and came to genuinely appreciate what he had, rather than what he didn’t. That tree with the rotting fruit was nothing more than an uncomfortable memory now—never forgotten, to ensure it never blossoms again, but no longer present, either.

Even now, as he readjusts yet another collar, raises an eyebrow at a student’s scuffed shoes, and makes a mental note of lessons to give, he finds himself not actually stressing too much about it. He breathes deep, takes a moment, and exhales again as he looks out over the Pomefiore dorm.

It’s a beautiful day.

Idia

It isn’t quite self-loathing, but it’s certainly close enough to be mistaken as such. He spent many years of his life avoiding reality to craft his own narrative; they don’t want to see him, they want to mock him. They don’t want to understand him because they’re friends, they want to do so to use it against him. He had been denied so many good things in his life that it felt almost hostile when something good was given, because nothing is free. So, could anyone blame him, when the opportunity to have the one good thing in his life given back arose? Could anyone blame him, when he overblotted to make amends for a tragedy he believed he caused? When Ortho called his nickname, his reality became only that sole moment. Could anyone blame him, truly blame him, for thinking in a moment that he could do it right?

Perhaps. When he found Ortho’s memory card in the aftermath, it felt like a slap, and he told the counselor such. He wondered if it was just situational irony when he plugged it in and brought his brother back so easily. Was this really all it took? Was the overblot ordeal really for nothing? It threw him for a crisis of existence; the counselor told him it was okay to feel like this, that forgiveness would come, and he had considered calling them out on that. He doubted anyone would forgive him for the near-catastrophic events he just caused.

But, as always seems to be the case, he was wrong. It began with Ramshackle, right after the events at STYX. When he was playing the game with everyone watching—Ortho commentating, Epel nearly ripping a pillow apart, Ace egging him on—an odd feeling of connection began. Then, it grew. He left his room more, he tried to use his tablet less, he took risks and accepted invitations; Ortho told him he was changing, and it was then that he realized forgiveness was never really needed to begin with. He had always had a place. Sure, he had been grouchy and reluctant about it, but it had always been there—he just needed a push.

He closes the door to his room, fending off the anxious thoughts he’s having, and glances at his phone again. There are several texts from Azul asking him to meet for the board game club. His lips twist into a wry grin as he clicks it off and looks out one of the windows in the hallway of Ignyhide. The sun is out, and although this makes him scowl, he can’t help but appreciate the view for a moment.

It’s a beautiful day.

Malleus

Grief is a funny thing. Whereas rage can be easily classified—passive, volatile, fear-based, pain-based—grief cannot. It manifests uniquely in every person who experiences it. Some may find themselves indifferent. Some may think they’re indifferent, right up until the moment they see what’s hurting them so much. Some scream, some cry, and some laugh because they simply can’t believe this is real. Some—the more magically inclined—try to do everything in their power to stop a loss before it happens.

When he came out of his overblot, for the first time in his many, many years alive, he didn’t have a clear plan. It was like shell shock for him. His mind was rattled, his blood ran cold, and all he could do was look around with wide eyes and ask himself: is this it? Granted, considering who he is, the extent of damage his overblot caused was well and above what a normal mage may do. He had been a man, he had been a beast—he had been everything everyone could fear because he was alone, and he was distraught, and he was grieving for the first time in his life.

It was surreal to sit before a counselor in the aftermath. As a Crown Prince, he’s to remain stoic—he can’t show weakness in front of others. But in front of the counselor, he wasn’t a Crown Prince. He was a student, a boy, still young, still trying to comprehend feelings he’s never had before because all his life people endeavored to hide him away from them. Words spilled from his tongue like gospel; how he felt his gut twist, how seeing Silver weep broke something in him, how imagining a world without those he had come to care for at short notice was too much all at once. He had been told this is normal—he had been told this is grief, and it was strange to step out of that office knowing he was the same as anyone else in this school.

He grew closer to others in the aftermath. Perhaps it was the shared experience, but he found his fellow dorm leaders more receptive to him than before; even Leona seemed to try and bite his tongue. And Malleus tried, too—tried to engage, tried to remember the times of events and capture as many moments as possible. He came to appreciate Silver and Sebek more, came to appreciate the rising sun and the fresh dew of every new morning. He came to appreciate the air he breathed and the family he had left. One day it would go, but he came to appreciate that as well, and as he took in a deep breath and glanced at the sky, he couldn’t help but think to himself:

It’s a beautiful day.

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