skyflicker

[skyflicker]

where loyalty lies trey clover x reader

summary: Sir Trey Clover, an ordinary commoner if not for his title, has been reassigned as your personal knight. Although he was mostly concerned with doing his job properly, certain situations lead to him liking you more than society dictates he should. However, you seem to be hiding something.

author's note: trying something new. not intended to be period accurate, though heavy inspiration from the georgian era, specifically regency. this is my longest fic yet, but i divided each section with roman numerals for easier reading.

tags: gender neutral reader (only you is used), sfw, fluff, knight x nobility, commoner x nobility, 15.1k+ words

you can also read this on AO3

I.

You were not the noble he wished to serve. 

If he were to so much as speak his thoughts out loud, although he would never, he knew it would cause great offense to not only you but your entire family; would earn him a reputation as an ungrateful scoundrel; would expectedly land him a form of punishment; would most likely cause his second reassignment of the year, bringing his own family into shame. Those consequences, however, were hardly worth thinking about when he had no intention of saying what could be wrongly interpreted as treason at worst, stupidity at best. 

You were born of a respectable family, one native to the Queendom of Roses, a family which for the last four or five generations had been rising into property and gentility. You had received good education in your youth, one appropriate for your status and far better than most parents of lesser upbringing could secure for their children; and had seemed to make use of your learnings well, painting the image of the noble house’s most dutiful firstborn. By all means you were a most respectable person, favored and important. 

Trey Clover, commoner without title if not for his ascent to knighthood, equally dutiful firstborn to his mother and father, was known to be a quiet, peaceful, reliable man who simply did as he was instructed—he has been called boring too, though he was hardly in a position to care for such a reputation—and with all those qualities, he made for a good knight. Good, but not excellent, for an excellent knight would swear loyalty without hesitance, an undisputed oath of allegiance, but in his heart of hearts he knew he would not mean it. That knight’s oath had been meant for someone else.

Loyalty laid not in words so he was willing to give it up all the same; but you had interrupted him before he could so much as speak the first words, gesturing him to stop with an elegant wave of the hand. 

“I do not need you to swear upon the Queen or anything of the sort,” he was told by you, quiet as to not attract the attention of your guardians and attendants who awaited outside, but firm to indicate you wanted no protests. “Simply do your work as my knight during your time in our estate. That is all that will be asked of you.”

It is an unheard of request, thought Sir Trey, for would it not be a part of his work to swear his utmost loyalty to you and the rest of your family name?

“Do you say this with certainty, my liege?” Trey asked, despite knowing it was not of good manners to question the sovereign-to-be—or good to question most aristocrats in all matters, them with their pride and prejudice—that was to be his new charge in a few moments.

“I would not have said so if I was uncertain,” arrived your reply, lifting the ceremonial sword that rested atop his shoulders upwards and putting it away completely. “Do not be mistaken—I expect you to not betray me, but as I do not know you nor do you have a noble house to swear your name upon, your words hold little to no value.”

You speak with a dignity more often seen in men and women twice your age. Even having known of your character, it was a small wonder to Trey that he and you were supposed to be of similar age. 

He could afford to be inwardly offended at such a claim, the value placed upon him by you, but he took no offense. It was not simply his unwillingness to argue, but his readiness to simply accept your words as the truth, words a persuasion he could not help but fall victim to. He could not help but be reminded of the difference of your status once more. Your shadow towered over him.

“Your actions will be enough proof of loyalty.”

“Then I shall prove to you as much.”

You neither smiled at him nor did you offer words of gratitude, but his eyes met yours upon lifting his head, approval present in your gaze.

“Then stand and open the doors. The sun has yet to set, and we still have much work left to do.” 

As per your orders he stood up, holding open the door long enough for you to step out, following suit as you bowed to greet your own family. He watched the exchange quietly—formal and distant, but not unkind pleasantries and reminders—and Trey could not help but wonder if this act was merely for the public eye or if all aristocratic families acted like yours. That, amongst many other things, was something he could never understand about you nobles—the insistence on propriety and etiquette, even amongst those who shared their blood. He could never imagine him and his family, commoner they may be, to act so coldly towards each other.

At the very least, your guardians do not seem to loom over your shoulders. Though he envied you for the sake of the young lord that he previously served, he would prefer to not get into another altercation in regards to familial matters that he should have no concern over.

“What type of work should I be doing now?” 

“It will depend on my own schedule and my instructions for you, but mornings will be spent training with the rest of the knights. I will be there as well should I not have made any arrangements; and because I have not made any for tomorrow, I shall be the one to introduce you to them,” you had been guiding him through the hallways with much ease, only to stop in your tracks quite suddenly. “Oh, I could introduce you to two right now.”

Indeed he had spotted two young men dressed in training garments at a distance, both of which were clearly heading your way so as to greet you. 

“They seem quite young for knights,” Trey said, unable to hold back the remark. Both of them seemed younger than him, and he had been newly knighted only a little more than a year ago; but perhaps, despite their physical appearance, they were of the prodigious sort. 

“That is because they are not knights—that is to say, not quite yet—they are still apprentices being trained by their sponsors,” you murmured quietly. Ah, esquires, thought Trey, that certainly made sense. “Though do not make the mistake of underestimating them. They are capable and responsible when needed, but it is their troublesomeness that would do you good to look out for. Ace, I confess, can be clownish at times, thus I hope you do not become a target for his jokes.”

Ace. That was a familiar name, and more interesting was how familiarly you had chosen to call him. Despite you being of higher status, most nobles preferred to stay conscious of each other’s corresponding titles.

“From what houses are they from?”

“Deuce Spade is of a commoner background, and Ace is the second son of Lord Trappola, a Baron. You might know of his older brother? The firstborn Trappola is-”

“Oi! Talking about us, are we?” 

It was terribly inappropriate to interrupt you, but aside from a well-hidden sigh you hardly seemed to care. It was the redhead who chose to do so and, yes, upon further inspection he did bear resemblance to his older brother, an eye-catching but respected knight he had seen at most twice or thrice, and only talked to once. Despite being of a lower title than you, he seemed comfortable addressing you shamelessly.

“Ace, you are so uncouth as always to our liege—ahem, future liege—and it is very unknightly of you.”

“Uncouth! Who is it that taught you that word?” The young Trappola let out a laugh, and Trey was able to deduce that he would be the joking sort of man. “Besides, our liege never cared to correct us before for our transgressions.”

“I never cared to because nobody was there to listen,” you replied, a gentle reprimand to the younger boys, “but could you not have pretended to show some respectability in front of a superior?”

He would hardly call himself a superior, knowing that in a few years time the duchy’s esquires would achieve the same rank as him, especially the mildly clownish Trappola, who even had a noble family to back him up. Still, it was with amusement that he watched the blue-haired boy’s eyes widen the size of the pies his mother sometimes baked, and the other boy’s narrow like the flattening of cookies, thinly veiled skepticism in them. 

“Superior?” Deuce asked, and Trey almost felt bad for how the boy suddenly seemed uneasy.

“Sir Trey is my knight—indeed, Ace, my personal knight and aide—as of today,” you clarified. “He is previously from the Duchy of Rosehearts, so he is yet accustomed to the way around our own duchy. Remember to treat him well.”

“Anything for you, my liege,” the two promised, but Trey easily noticed the envy and suspicion that permeated the air as you guided him elsewhere; no doubt it was their eyes he felt on his back. 

“Forgive me if it is out of the line, but is my being here a disagreeable subject?” he asked, “I would understand. The circumstances that led to this happening are hardly worth mentioning—rather, would preferably not be mentioned at all—though it would be worrisome if that was the general consensus on me.”

“It seems you are mistaken by something, Sir Trey. Nobody but my family, and quite clearly myself, knows of the situation that led you to being here. It is simply Ace and Deuce who are distraught by your being assigned my knight.”

Though Trey could not see your expression, having chosen to walk straight ahead and not even look at him, you sounded troubled yourself. 

“They had been competing for that empty position for two years now, though I hardly understand why they would aim for it.”

Upon hearing the story, Trey felt pity for the two apprentice knights. Though going against you was certainly not being considered by him, he could hardly call himself loyal in heart to you or the dukedom, that much would be clear to everyone; and it would be of no surprise if they felt he had risen to his position quite unfairly.

“They must be fiercely loyal to you, then.”

“Hardly!” you proclaimed, and though you did not snort or giggle or anything of the like, this was easily the most amused he has heard you yet. “They both aim to be one of Her Majesty, the Queen’s suits—lucrative positions considering there are only four, but I support their endeavors nonetheless—thus their leaving the estate to become a royal knight is inevitable. I suppose they think personally guarding me would aid them in their goal, though I think it unnecessary, especially for Ace.”

It was clear to Trey that you had your doubts on the extent of their loyalty to you, but he had reasons to doubt your claims, too. It was neither his duty nor desire to meddle, however, so unless either one of the two esquires would force his hand, he would simply step aside and allow the situation to fester.

II.

Trey expected the esquire duo to carefully watch over him—though he could hardly get upset when their antics reminded him a little too much of a little brother’s mischief—but to have you watch him as well was quite nerve-wracking. 

It should have been expected considering he had been in the estate for a grand total of three and a half days, but he was more expecting you to pass him off to the Knight Commander of the duchy. After all, you did not seem to particularly care for him nor detest him, so he would not be surprised if you just left him be.

It was not so bad the first two mornings, you choosing to sit back, half focused on breakfast as you were on him; but his relief was temporary as you asked, or rather instructed, him to spar with you on the third.

“Sir Trey, do you take me for a fool? Or are you simply too chivalrous?” Very nearly you had managed to land a strike against his side; you would not have missed had he not the foresight to step to his right. “I do not see a single bead of sweat on you. I have heard you were quite the peaceful knight, though that is no excuse to weaken your capabilities for the sake of my pride. If anything, my pride would be damaged more from this half-hearted fight.”

“Today is not as warm as yesterday. Had you chosen to spar yesterday, I would have broken a sweat,” he reasoned, not quite lying. 

You seemed to think highly enough of him due to his being the Lord Riddle Rosehearts’ personal knight before yours, but if you were to ask him he would claim he was rather average in most aspects, including swordsmanship. He would not deny—to himself that is—that there was some hesitance in his actions. He had taken to defending rather than swinging his sword at you, because he could not tell what outcome you, and the rest of the onlooking knights, would prefer to see. 

“You blame the sun?” Trey had nothing to say in reply, though he could have sworn you had smirked, if only briefly, at the thought. “I suppose it matters little who wins or loses. I was merely curious about what type of person my knight would be.”

“Is that something you could derive from a spar that has lasted a few minutes?” Trey asked, curious as to how you would have pinned him down as a person. Would you agree with the comments he has received, comments surely you as well have heard about him? Or would you arrive at a conclusion far different from the rest?

“Yes, to a certain degree, but not completely,” you admitted. Trey observed your movements slow, likely a trick or easy opening from your end, one he did not take. “The lack of warmth from the sun, as you claimed, would not allow you to properly spar with me; however, I believe it would not stop you from doing well against the other knights. Thus, let us end this engagement, and resume combat another time.”

Trey, in truth, would prefer not to go against you again. Battle was not something that he found excitement in, neither was it something Riddle grew interested in nor an expertise of the Rosehearts. They had their fair collection of respectable knights, but what they lacked for in militia they made up for in their sponsorship and support of scholars, doctors, and the rare magicians that would pop up on occasion. The culture in your estate was foreign to him.

“As you wish,” he said, retracting his sword and bowing, mutually forfeiting the mockery of a duel. “With whom should I go against next?”

Unexpectedly you had smiled, but it was not the pretty type of smile that men wished to receive from their lovers. It was the type of smile that schemers wore when they were caught up in their plans, one that was going their way; and belatedly, realized Trey, you might be more troublesome than the two you had warned him about.

“Ace… and Deuce,” catching the look in his eye, you affirmed his guess, “Yes, at once. They are always interesting to go against. Sometimes they will be selfish and want to win by themselves, and other times they will work together. Who knows what they will do against you?”

You were sicking your quite loyal not-quite knights onto him; but even with your claim as to not knowing what they’ll do, Trey was certain with one thing—they would take it as an opportunity to question him, for a spar was not merely a test of skills, but a test of wit. If he were to let go of his guard for a second, he was certain they would take the chance to make head or tail of him.

Still preferable to going against you.

Something he quickly realized about his opponents were the differences in their approaches. Deuce was arguably stronger, with harder swings and an aim that was sure to hurt if he was not careful, even with being equipped with only a practice sword. Ace, meanwhile, employed tricky tactics to try and catch him off guard, only striking when he saw fit. 

He could understand how you found these two so interesting—if they were uncoordinated, it would be easy to single one out, then later take out the other, and if they were coordinated… a pity for their opponent, who would struggle to figure out how to take one out without the other interfering.

Unfortunately for him, they had decided to work with each other today—for the sake of a common goal, he supposed—not only in combat, but in interrogation. Their manner of questioning him was similar to their styles of swordsmanship, with Deuce being direct; and Ace, though still unsubtle, was more careful with his wording.

“Sir Trey, from which house do you hail?”

“The Clovers are a family of bakers. Unless you plan on purchasing from a bakery in the Rosehearts Duchy, they should be of little interest to you,” Trey answered, panting slightly as he dodged a jab from a scowling Trappola.

“So you really came from Rosehearts, then?”

“Indeed. I was knighted there.”

“By a Rosehearts? Or another knight as your sponsor?”

Trey would have preferred to not reveal a direct connection, merely instilling that he was from the area but not a man of the estate, but saying otherwise would cause the implication that he was barely a recognized knight, thus ill-fitted for you. Truthfully he did think he was ill-fitted, you seemed too independent for him to be of service, but he would rather not let go of this employment.

“After a few years of training, yes.”

“Not born of a noble house, no notable achievements to name but good enough to be recognized by either the Duchess or Little Duke, from a duchy about five days of travel away by horse carriage despite seemingly good relations with parents,” As the information they had learned from him was listed down by Ace, Deuce decided it was his turn to question him once more.

“How did you get to become my liege’s knight, then?” Deuce cried out, his frustration clear with how his sword was thrust quite strongly at him. How plain-spoken Spade was, but far easier to deal with. “To have come from nowhere to take one of the most coveted positions among the duchy’s knights?”

“A recommendation,” Not quite a lie, in consideration that it was the story used to cover-up what had caused his banishment, but that much was unnecessary to reveal.

“Nonsense, I say. That seat’s been empty for two years, then you come and take it with ease?” Ace questioned, scoffing at the absurdity. “Could you actually be my liege’s secret lover?”

It was such an absurd claim!—not only unfounded but downright preposterous, one that would cause great offense should you have heard it, and scandal should anyone begin to believe it. Trey could not help himself from being shocked, but he should have expected that the two would use that momentary shock against him, for one moment he was standing upright, and the next he was on the ground with two blades pointed at him.

“We win,” Deuce said, funnily soft in his proclamation. There was a smile on his face, clearly happy with the shared victory. “Perhaps our liege would praise us?”

Ace, however, was not particularly enthused by the turn out as Trey initially assumed he would be. He seemed to be the more smug of the two as per his observations, but there was hardly any trace of gloating now in his oddly serious expression.

“You might be a good knight,” he began, slowly inching his sword away from his neck, “but hardly a good replacement.”

Replacement. That was the word that had stuck with him for the rest of the morning, even as you stalked over to him and offered him a piece of cloth to clean himself up, even as you made your observations on how he countered the two, even as you gave him advice on how to deal with the two esquires the next time.

Trey had not considered there being another knight before him, though he supposed it only made sense that you would not go unprotected and unguarded, even from a young age, even with your capabilities. What he found himself questioning, however, was why the position was left vacant for two years, and what led him to being allowed to take it. He was hardly special, only lucky to have encountered the right crowd the first time, and be taken in by your family the second.

Replacement. The word repeated itself once more in his head. He supposed the two of you were not so ill-fitted after all—his replacement of a liege, your replacement of a vassal.

III.

Trey’s days in the duchy were quiet. He would go as far as to say they were too quiet. Ace and Deuce had not come to bother him or even come to ask him for a spar, though he suspected they were told off by you. Whatever it was you did, it certainly did not stop the staring, though he supposed busying himself with training was enough distraction to be able to ignore it.

Then there was the current Knight Commander who mostly let him be, oftentimes telling him to put more effort into the exercising—not that he was deliberately holding off from doing so. 

As for you, who he was expected to guard at all times, he was told you went out quite often, but these days you were holed up in your office, working away on documents of some importance—nothing he was privy to. He spent most of his time right outside your door, only opening it when someone wanted to report to you.

Trey would say he enjoyed the peace, but he would not deny being incredibly bored by what little he had to do in the afternoons. Around this time of day he would often be asked by Riddle to do some menial tasks, usually fetching something, half the time something from his parents’ bakery.

Perhaps it was his inability to shake off routine that led him to knocking on the doors of your study, a favor on his lips ready to be uttered. 

“You would like access to the kitchen?” You sounded a little intrigued at what he would be doing there, before shrugging to yourself. “Oh, of course. A baker’s son likely knows how to prepare their own meals. I believe you are responsible enough to not be wasteful, so you are free to use it for as long as they have yet to begin preparing for supper. I do not need you until my nightly stroll either, so you are free to go.”

With your permission he had made way to the blessedly empty kitchens, spending the first dozen minutes familiarizing himself with the placement of the sweeteners and spices, the utensils and cutlery, the pots and pans. It was unfortunate that the lateness in time and the general lack of ingredients made for his inability to create anything of note.

It would have been nice to have more options, and it was surprising that a family of great fortune did not possess in their pantries quality ingredients for dessert at all times—he could hardly believe a lavish family chose to not indulge in the finest of delicacies every day! Riddle, albeit without anyone knowing, certainly did—and Trey had to wonder if the estate had simply not received their shipments, or if they were more the shopping out of doors sort of folk.

Regardless, he would make do with what he had, and he would just have to hope that it would suit your tastes. What even were your tastes? It was not like he had ever gotten the chance to dine with you, and breakfast was hardly an indicator of one’s preferences. 

He was left with no choice—he would just have to make assumptions. He was already in the kitchen, and to return so suddenly would have shown he had wasted his time for nothing. He was in the kitchen to make something for you due to… boredom, perhaps, and maybe a habit he cannot quite get rid of.

Really, you had not even requested this, and there was always the chance that you would refuse the snacks for one reason or another, perhaps not wanting to eat something on the sweeter side with the evening meal coming soon, or simply not liking the food presented; but Trey thought he would like it if you enjoyed something he made, so he continued on with it regardless of the uncertainty. 

You failed to notice him when he returned back to your office, too focused on the paper you happened to be writing, but you did pay him mind when the silverware connected with the hardwood table, the noise stealing your attention away from your work.

“You have come back so soon, Sir Trey?” 

“Gone only long enough to prepare an afternoon snack, my liege,” Trey replied, “would you like me to prepare your usual drink to pair with it?”

“You will not even ask me if I would like to partake?” The question must have been rhetorical, for you sounded unaffected by it, humored at most—not that he’d gotten good at reading you, because he certainly had not. “And it is good you remember my favorite drink already. Yes, I would quite like it.”

“Then I’ll be returning to the kitchen. Please give me a-”

“Hold on,” Trey watched as you put down your pen, leaving the ink to dry as you pulled out an envelope from your desk drawer. Oh, had you been writing a letter all this time and not a report? Though he supposed a report could very well come in the form of a letter- “you would not mind passing a letter to the butler for me, would you?”

It was not as if he had much of a choice, but he had no reasons to refuse a simple task either. 

“Of course not. I will pass it on once I am done attending to you,” Trey watched as you, without haste, poured wax over the envelope, sealing the contents with a firm press of a stamp. You appeared satisfied with your work, although he found it odd how the back was empty—no indication of an address or receiver, only indication of a sender being the family crest on the seal—Trey could not help but wonder if this was a letter of confidentiality. 

“Thank you, but before you go, have you already had one of the—those are tartlets, yes?—for yourself?”

“Only while making it; I have not tasted the final product myself,” Trey said, only partially lying. He had tasted the final product, but he was unsure if it was impolite to let you know he had gotten to taste it first before you had—there should hardly be any reason to, he doubted you thought he would try to poison you, and you seemed to think he was capable enough a cook.

“Then get one for me and get one for yourself. Let us try it before you go—it would not do you good to go after the butler on an empty stomach with how much he runs around the estate.”

Trey could not help but let out a short chuckle. What would a small pastry do for his stomach? Still, this would be a good chance to gauge what you thought of his baking, so he placed one atop a small plate, placing it atop your desk. 

Trey could try to pretend all he wanted that he was not paying too much attention to you, busying himself by removing a glove so he could eat his share properly—but his eyes were most definitely on you, some anticipation for a comment, if you would give one at all. You did not disappoint.

“The first time I ate a tartlet, I heavily disliked it. It was pretty, just like this one, with the colors of the jam making them look a little bit like jewels. The taste, however, was awful—the chef must have mistaken salt for sugar—and no one dared bring me another tartlet again,” Trey stiffened in place as you spoke, wondering if it had been a mistake. 

“Upon tasting this, I found myself thinking, ‘Ah, so this is what it was supposed to taste like!’—sweet but not overwhelmingly so, small enough to not ruin one’s appetite before supper; it’s no wonder the first Queen was said to love this despite the simplicity of it. For sure, I would have begun asking for tartlets every week if I tasted yours first.” 

It was difficult not to feel some sense of pride after being complimented by you, you who complimented not very often, so he allowed himself to feel proud—that was barely even his best work!

“Thank you, my liege,” he said, sincere with his gratitude. 

“Oh? I think I should be the one thanking you, Sir Trey,” He meant to tell you that there was no need for it, but before he could so much as utter a word you had decided the pastries were good enough to smile at, and so you smiled. 

People smiled all the time, but Trey had always thought you to be quite distant—not unfriendly or unfeeling but distant—and that perception of you had suddenly wavered as you smiled at him. Your smile felt like he was being praised, like you were telling him he had done something of worth. The knight did not know what to make of it, so he said nothing at all. 

He left as soon as you had handed him the letter, wondering what he would try making for you next.

IV.

“You are choosing to take him with you? Can you not take me, or even Deuce, with you instead?” Trey did not make a habit out of eavesdropping on conversations, but he had been looking for you, and you just so happened to be talking to the redhead who did not seem to like him too much—seemingly talking about him—so he could not help but overhear.

He could also not help but be curious, but that was of secondary importance.

“It is about time Sir Trey went along with me on my trips, and a good opportunity had come up as I needed to check up on a few things in town. The trip will allow him to be acclimated to the dukedom, to what I do when I am not stuck in my study—travelling. 

Besides, both you and Deuce have duties to your mentors today; I doubt they would appreciate their esquires skipping when I have a perfectly capable knight to guard me.”

Ace still looked frustrated although he did not argue any further, perhaps out of respect for you, or perhaps because he was aware you were a firm and stubborn person. You appeared to sigh, something about the younger man’s expression likely pricking a soft spot in you. 

“Ace, I know you think him to be a good man just as the rest of the duchy does, no matter how much you like to act otherwise,” you said in a scolding tone, “And I know the reasons as to why you two are acting up, but you have to understand—I chose him to fill the seat for a reason.”

That was certainly news to Trey. He had assumed he happened to be placed as a knight directly under you by your guardians, or due to his being close in age with you, or even somehow fulfilling the qualifications for the position; but you had chosen him yourself? What for?

“My liege,” he said, interrupting whatever conversation could have continued. The young Trappola looked a little startled, but you only looked at him expectedly, “the carriage is ready.”

Following you to the estate’s entrance, he could not help but wonder if you knew he had overheard your conversation, but Trey would not risk you knowing if you did not so he stayed silent. He stayed silent as well on the ride to town, eyes flitting between you and the window next to him. Intruders who intercepted noble’s carriages were not unheard of, after all. That is all why he looks at you, and he looks at you for the same reason when you step out of the carriage and go do your duties.

It is his job to observe you and your surroundings, although he found himself observing you more than the surroundings.

The town you decided to visit… was a nice town. There was not much Trey could say, not because the town was bad in any way, but because he was never known to be able to wax poetic. It was a good town—a lot of it reminded him of the town which he himself resided in, though he would dare claim the bakeries likely paled in comparison to his parents’—but it was also nothing too out of the ordinary. 

What was out of the ordinary, at least from his experiences, was getting to see you so—he had not the right words for it, would warm be the word for it? 

You are still as polite as ever, with as much dignity as your clothes and air—he had asked why you did not bother to conceal your identity, you claimed it was useless and that everyone would recognize you either way—but you act much friendlier than he had seen you yet. 

You greet them kindly with gentle waves and pretty laughter, say their names like you’ve known them from long before; he cannot help himself from wondering if this is how you would be if you never had to worry about the propriety of nobility.

Everyone appeared equally glad to see you—he knew such was definitely not a given when it came to people of your position, the difference between respect and fear—and many of the old men and women greeting you fondly, as if you were a child they had raised from birth. 

“They seem to love you,” he said, the compliment slipping out of his mouth easily. He figured you would not mind him speaking out of turn, not that you ever seemed to scold him for much of anything, if it was for a compliment. He thought you might have accepted it humbly, or explain why it might be otherwise, but you chose to do differently.

“Is that so? Then I’m glad,” It was such a short and simple answer—glad, you were glad to hear he thought as much—and glad manifested through, once again, you giving him a sunny smile. 

Trey, once more, was ill-prepared for such a happenstance, and although he knew it to be impossible a task he would have appreciated a warning. He had not even done much of anything to warrant it!

Still, he is glad that you are glad.

Would you be doing more of that now? Smiling? He still had not quite wrapped his head around the last time you had done it; it would be difficult to keep seeing you as his distant liege if you did such a thing.

Not that you have been much of that lately—to the public eye, certainly for appearances’ sake, but not in his thoughts—quite difficult when you compliment him each time he gives you something new to snack on.

“I only speak the truth,” he said, and though he has his secrets it is certainly not a lie. He would not deny to himself that his attention has predominantly been on you, but he was doing his duties of paying attention to his surroundings—that is, paying attention to them when you choose to interact with them. 

When he spotted you picking up a trinket, apparently one from a far-away land called the Scalding Sands, he had immediately prepared the money pounch you made him hold in case you had wanted to purchase it.

When you wanted to buy a cold drink, he looked over the prices to make sure you were not getting scammed—you gave the vendor a generous tip so he supposed it hardly mattered.

When your walk was interrupted every few minutes by excitable children who wanted to say their greetings, or budding young knights who wanted to make a good first impression, he carefully watched them all—mostly the adults, he doubted the children had any sort of bad intentions.

Trey, himself, was approached every so often too. As you had not bothered hiding your identity, he had not bothered hiding his being your knight as well—his usual attire likely drawing attention to him. Then again, he supposed just being beside you was enough to do as much.

“You wear a different uniform from the others,” a middle-aged woman said, the one who was tending to a stall filled with flowers, “what I mean to say, different from the ones who used to accompany her.”

That made sense. Squires like Ace and Deuce, whom he assumed were the ones to usually come join you, wore different clothing from the official knights of the duchy; he himself had a slightly different attire to the official knights due to his designation, but it was surprising that others outside the estate paid attention to it.

“I would say he is different from the others as well,” another woman added, and he tried not to seem too bothered as he was scrutinized. “Better than the last one, that troublesome redhead. Oh, I hope you’re permanent, dear.”

All Trey could do was laugh and rub the back of his neck, half-hearted gratitude for what he presumed to be flattery. He’s quick to leave them be when you call upon him, bowing for a reasonable amount of time before returning to your side.

Once more, Trey cannot help himself from thinking about the matters of your past knight. The woman had brought up a troublesome redhead—very likely Ace, for he knew not of any other troublesome redheads among the knights—but she had also mentioned his becoming a permanent fixture. That likely implied they, as well, knew of your past knight. 

It truly was none of his business, and knowing who it had been would neither negatively nor positively affect him, but it was said that the people of the Queendom of Roses were naturally curious people, so, perhaps, this was just a natural feeling.

“Sir Trey? Are you well?” 

To be asked as much by you must have meant he had spent too much time thinking about the matter, inattentive to you—though the trip to the town had been safe, nighttime lurked the more evil of beings; even with the carriage, he should have been paying more attention.

He would have to push the theorizing for another day, or perhaps hold it off indefinitely. 

“Yes, my liege,” he replied, nodding his head as well. “I was simply thinking of our trip today.”

“And what did you think of it? Do not be hesitant to tell me what you think—I would appreciate an outsider’s perspective.”

And so he tells you. He is honest enough in his observations, praising the defining features of the town and the kindness of the people, although he would not deny being awfully careful about wording his suggestions.

“Of course, as you mentioned, I’m still an outsider so I hardly know the internal situation of the town in terms of economy and education, thus I could be completely wrong in my analysis.”

“Sir Trey, there is hardly any need for that type of humility,” You appeared slightly bothered by the comment, but you do not give him any time to think about whether he should respond or stay silent. “But I appreciate your comments nonetheless. It was not too difficult keeping up with me, was it?”

“I would not be a very suitable knight if I had difficulties.”

Suitable. Previously, he had not even thought of what it meant to be a suitable knight for you, more preoccupied with simply being good. He supposed the ladies from the market had gotten to him to some degree.

“Good, then I can begin bringing you to trips a few hours farther. A town down south of the territory has a festival next week, and, oh, two days from now I’d like to visit a village that—”

You were rambling, and the knight found it somewhat endearing how you seemed excited to travel all around the territory, dare he say excited to be able to show someone who is essentially an outsider the beauty of your land—at least, he thought this was what excited looked like on you—you certainly look more chipper than when you’re working away in your office.

“My liege, I think you might be a good person.”

He had not quite realized he had said it out loud until you paused your one-sided discussion to look at him as though he had said something peculiar.

“That’s… an odd compliment,” you said slowly, “and I certainly do not need the flattery, but it would be rude to note accept it either, so I shall.”

So you said, but you did not bother to properly hide the amused smile creeping on your face, merely turning away from him to face the window—as though that would do anything to hide it. It’s different from the polite smiles you give everyone, or the other smiles that still caught him off-guard, but there must be something contagious about it because he found himself smiling too.

V.

“I do not have the right to scold you, my liege, but I did warn you getting caught in the rain for more than a few seconds was a terrible idea.”

Trey had been the one to try and rush you indoors after yesterday’s terrible downpour, but you had insisted on not letting the trip go to waste due to a little rain. At that time, he had been reminded once more that you could be awfully stubborn when you wanted to be. You had only agreed to go to the nearest establishment once you realized that, as  your knight, he would be forced to walk in the rain with you. To think you had even tried to dismiss him and continue the walk by yourself!

“Yes, I suppose the circumstances aren’t in my favor,” you replied, unable to hide the raspiness of your voice, and that was all it took for him to pour you another glass of water. “Though a mild cold is hardly enough reason to stop working.”

"Excuse me for a moment,” He crouched down beside your chair, extending a hand to gauge your temperature. He was no doctor or anything of the sort, but that… was most certainly not just a mild cold. By the Queen’s name, you looked like you were even shivering a little bit—was that shawl doing anything to warm you up?

“I know I am stepping out of the line by saying as much, but are you always this… troublesome?” You laugh at his exasperation, and although he would normally find it a good thing to have you in a pleasant mood, why must it be now of all times?—and now you had to drink more water because you went from laughing to coughing. 

“And were you always someone who worried so much? Caring for the sick is not part of your knightly duties, last I have checked.”

“Normally it would not be, not to this extent, but with my being your personal knight I believe my duties extend to your well-being, even if what is ailing you is sickness.”

“Ah. Then do as you must, although I still refuse to return to my bedroom to rest, and since I doubt you would have the ability to drag me over there, I shall continue working,” Trey inwardly groaned to himself. 

If he were a more shameless man who cared little for propriety he most certainly would have attempted to do so, but the thought of so much attempting to touch you, if even just to carry or lug you to your room—and to even have to enter your room?—in truth, he would prefer not to think about it.

“Will you at least transfer to the sofa so that you may look over those documents more comfortably?”

You gave him a thoughtful glance, and Trey cannot deny the relief that he felt when you nod your head.

“Yes, that seems reasonable. I will go over there once I finish penning this letter.”

Another letter? Trey supposed nobility always had numerous letters and invitations to respond to every day, although could the recipients not be kept waiting for at least a few days longer? 

“Is it so urgent that you should sacrifice your health over it?”

“Sir Trey, were you always so talkative?” He only relaxed when you let out another laugh, letting him know you did not mind him questioning you. “Not that it is unpleasant to hear you talk. I would prefer it if you spoke more freely to me. It would make our exchanges less uncomfortable, would it not?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Trey agreed, though he would say there was hardly anything unpleasant or discomforting about talking with you, nothing but pleasant for some time already. 

“Now, what was it that you said? Sacrifice, was it? I would say it is not so big of a deal—writing a letter, that is—but I suppose it is a matter of importance. I would rather not keep this nobleman waiting for a reply.”

Despite your wishes that he would speak more freely, Trey dared not to speak the assumption that had just entered his head. Rather, assumptions. 

“I will go to the kitchen to brew you some tea, then. It will be good for your throat,” Once you let out a hum of approval, he had slowly left your study. The walk to the kitchen was one filled with thinking, assuming. Perhaps he had been overthinking it, but he had two ideas as to who you could have been writing a letter to, and what writing that letter entailed. 

The first was likely the most obvious assumption—that you had either received  a proposal, or that you were in the process of courting and being courted. It was a reasonable guess to make, thought Trey, considering you were a noble of marriageable age in a most desirable position. 

He had seen you send and receive a few presents over the past two months, although he had never wondered until today if any of them were for courtship purposes—a little difficult to check without looking through each individual card and letter.

He had also heard a few knights wondering when or if you would ever marry, with some carrying the same assumption as Ace—that perhaps you had a lover you were keeping secret.

Indeed, there was hardly any evidence of either an incoming marriage or a secret lover, though neither were out of the realm of possibilities—although he seriously doubted you would be the type to have or want the latter.

The second assumption had no evidence, more influenced by what he knew of you and what others have slipped and told him, but perhaps you were sending a letter to your past knight, the one he had replaced. Trey had thought of it for some time, but with no one having become your personal knight since the last one’s departure, for two years until he arrived, you must have been quite attached. 

Regardless of if he was right with either one of his assumptions, it should not matter to him. He would do his job of being your knight either way.

Upon returning to your study, Trey was surprised you had actually taken his advice—whatever letter it was you were writing, you were clearly finished with it as you sat down on the sofa. He still thought it would be preferable if you were resting without the documents in hand, but there was only so much pushing he could do… for now, that is. 

Trey found that he was quite good with gentle persuasion, and gentle he would be with his approach.

You greeted each other wordlessly, him watching you drink your cup of tea as you went over the documents. Things were mostly as usual for half an hour, with him offering to pour you another every now and then, but soon you began to look drowsy. You had stayed on that one piece of paper for around five minutes at this point.

“Sir Trey, you are terribly unfair,” The said man laughed at the accusation. “I thought it would be merely herbs and ginger here in the tea, but there was some chamomile as well, was there not? Or some other type of flower or tea leaf that’s intended more for the night than the day.”

“I believe you are implying something, my liege,” he replied, neither confirming nor denying it, “but if you find yourself tired, should you not retire-”

“Absolutely not,” Firm as ever in your decision, thought Trey. 

“Then, if I may be so forward—and if the contents are not too confidential for my eyes and ears—would you allow me to read you the documents out loud instead? Since you do not find my voice unpleasant,” he offered. At the very least, if you truly insist on staying awake, then he would try to make today’s work easier for you.

He would not blame you if you refused, but after a minute of thinking about it on your part you agreed quite easily, patting the space on the sofa beside you. 

“It should be alright, but sit beside me. There are a few numbers and tables I need to look over.”

He followed your orders easily, but upon sitting he realized how awkward it was to actually sit beside you. Standing beside you, sparring with you, sitting across you in the carriage—it could be argued that those were all moments of being in close proximity with you as well, but there was something more… would the word be domestic? regarding the current situation.

“Go on, I will be listening.”

So he began to read the reports aloud, stopping at every paragraph and only beginning with the next once you hum or let out some other noise of approval. Truthfully, for one reason or another, Trey could not bear to look at you, so he heavily relied on your little cues as a signal to keep going.

It was around the time he had begun reading a report about the agriculture of a village up north that he had felt it—the sudden weight atop his shoulder, quick in arrival and indefinite in departure. Trey abandoned the papers almost immediately, looking at you to see if you truly had fallen asleep—you had; with how often his siblings faked sleep he would have figured out if you were not.

Trey did not have the heart to wake you up. For you to succumb to slumber was what he had wanted all along, but he had thought you would either choose to dismiss him so you could nap in your study, or that you would admit defeat and retire to bed. Though you were hardly the most formal noble he has ever met, you still cared about propriety, even if it was in front of someone like him, so he could never have expected for you to…

The knight let out a troubled sigh, unsure of what to do with you. Just as he did not have the heart to wake you up, neither could he stay in this sitting position until you roused awake. 

First, it would be troublesome if someone chose to enter the room—he would prefer not to rekindle the short-lived rumor, one likely having to do with Ace, that he had gotten his position due to him being your secret significant other. 

Second, that position had to be uncomfortable for you; he knew your back and neck would feel terrible upon waking. He wanted you to rest specifically so you would feel rejuvenated—extra aching in your body would certainly not help with your recovery.

Third, Trey was not sure if he could handle anymore of this proximity. You look a lot softer when you are asleep—when you do not try to put a distance, or at least feign one, between you and everyone else. You were, dare he say—no, he would not dare to say what he thought of you just now. 

His heart had been beating irrationally fast for the past few minutes, panic and nervousness stirred into one, and he would very much like it if his heart stopped doing so and returned to normal.

If you were his little sibling, he would pick you up and bring you to your bedroom, tucking you to bed, but you are not that. You are not exactly a friend or a lover either, though the thought of you as the latter… he really should stop thinking of Ace’s little joke. It was not even funny, just slightly embarrassing and slightly flustering. 

Ultimately, Trey decided to lay you down on the sofa, an unheard apology as he slowly pulled you away from him, resting your head against a pillow. There was a slight fear in you waking up—mostly because he knew you would try to return to your work as you had slacked off enough—but even as he took off his coat to lay it atop you, a substitute for a blanket, your breathing had not changed even the slightest.

“My liege,” He kneeled, despite knowing you would not see it, “may you have the most pleasant of dreams. Please rest well.” 

He left the room soon after, not truly leaving as he chose to stand outside your door, guarding it so he could warn people not to enter, or at the very least give you time to prepare yourself if it was someone of importance.

Trey dug his head into the palm of his hand, feeling the contrast of his cool fingertips and warm face. He might be coming down with a cold, too.

VI.

It was normal to think your superior was attractive. His superior, in particular, was someone his age, who he had to spend hours looking at, so it was normal to find that particular noble more and more pleasing to look at as the days became weeks became months. 

What could not be explained away so easily was how he had begun gazing at your portraits. There were numerous around the estate, your likeness having been taken by numerous artists. He could pretend he was simply admiring the techniques used, but unless it was a cake or pastry he was hardly a connoisseur of the arts.

He was in the middle of observing one such painting when he had chanced upon someone he barely knew, but one he certainly knew of. The man, wearing a lavish cape atop the already eye-catching uniform of the Queen’s knights, appeared not to notice him, heading straight for the garden where he knew you to be. Trey followed him, despite knowing you would not be unsafe with the man—the realization late, but unsurprising. 

After all, that man was—

“My liege!” the knight called, greeting you the same way Trey tended to, only with more cheerfulness and humor in his voice. “Did you miss me?”

“I have not been your liege for more than two years,” you let out a laugh, one he had to strain his ears to hear, “but I suppose so.”

—was the future Baron Trappola, Ace’s older brother.

“Somehow I doubt it! When was the last time you sent me a letter? Even Ace sent more letters than you—Ace! I have had to rely on him for updates on you, and what is this about you—”

“—getting a new knight?” you guessed, and Trey had to hold in an awkward laugh. How come whenever he listened in on a conversation with you in it, it just so happened to be about him? “I see he has been complaining to you, then. Probably just upset he has to rethink his strategy on usurping you in terms of knighthood.”

“The poor man is probably getting bullied by my baby brother! And what Ace does, Deuce will probably end up doing too. I wonder who they get that attitude from?” 

“Hah! They certainly tried, more Ace than Deuce honestly, but Sir Trey has more resilience than you would think. He is—”

“Gossiping about your new knight, are we? Then could I invite you to walk around the gardens with me, like how we used to when you and Ace were still little kids? To walk is a good way to stray from prying eyes.”

That was Trey’s cue to leave the premises immediately, stalking off to… somewhere. He usually made it a point to be near wherever you were once morning training had finished, but he would rather have to deal with a troublesome younger Trappola than be called out by the older one.

He settled on the outside of your study, where he usually found himself most days. No, that was wrong, he usually found himself inside your study, but it was impolite to be there without your permission, so he stood outside. 

As if to mock him, the outside of your study conveniently had a portrait of you on the wall, so if he wanted to feel any more guilty about listening in on a private conversation, your unmoving likeness was there to stare him down.

Firstly, he knew who the knight he had replaced was. While there was no animosity or competitiveness over the reveal, he had still felt strangely about it. Second, whoever it was you had been sending letters to lately it was certainly not the older Trappola, which furthered his assumption that it had to do with courtship. He also felt strangely about that, though he would prefer not to dwell on the whys of it.

Alone with his thoughts, he could do nothing but stare at your painted likeness; soon after, what was unmoving had moved as you appeared before him, sudden as though you were a mere vision, and you stared at him as if you knew he would be there. 

“He wanted to greet you, you might want to know,” you began to say, ushering him to enter your study with you. “Had the sun set the slightest bit slower I am sure he would have sought you out.”

Ah, so you were aware of his presence—either you were told he had listened, or you had noticed and allowed him to listen. 

“If you had asked about him, I would have answered,” You sat him down beside you on the sofa, almost reminiscent of the time you had been sick—only this time you were very aware of each and every action, and he wondered if he was the only one embarrassed at the proximity. There was space on either side, so why did the two of you have to sit next to each other, only some several inches in the center separating your bodies?

“The reason you kept the position of being your personal knight empty for so long—”

“I suppose there is some merit to what people have assumed, although they are all incredibly far-fetched. I’m sure you have heard some of them,” He had, even found himself on the verge of believing some of them. Perhaps Trey was more invested with the idea of you being in love than he thought because he, too, had assumed that you might have carried affections…

Having seen what he had, however, it appeared that romantic affection was not what you felt for that knight. He ignored the pleasant feeling the thought provided.

“It just so happened that, with his departure, there was no real reason for me to take a new knight. I did not need one,” you explained, as though it was simply obvious at the time. It made enough sense, thought Trey, considering you could at least hold your own in a fight, and you had several knights and esquires willing to accompany you in rotation. 

“My liege…”

You smiled at him like you thought he had done something good, despite him having done nothing at all.

“What I want to tell you is… I chose you for a reason, and I have no regrets about that decision with how wonderfully you’ve been doing as my knight. I would keep you by my side forever, if I could!”

That had to be a joke—the latter part in particular—but it caused his heart to beat all the same, the same way it did when you fell asleep beside him the afternoon you were ill. Although your words shocked him, he had accepted your praise quickly, knowing that you did not hand it out so easily.

Still, even with his beating heart, a question was still left unanswered—why had you chosen him out of every other knight?

VII.

“So this is your family’s bakery?” 

When you had told him you wished to go to the Dukedom of Rosehearts, he had been incredibly surprised—though he tried not to make his emotions too evident. He was aware the two of you would travel longer and longer distances as time went by, though he had not expected that you would go from traveling from within the territory to a Dukedom five days away.

He had been even more surprised when you told him you wished to visit his hometown, with one of the stops being his home. 

Trey had still not quite wrapped his head around how exactly he perceived you, even though several weeks had passed since he had realized he—unable to find an eloquent word for it—liked looking at you. Was he being respectful in the sense that he admired you in every aspect, or disrespectful in the sense that he was a few steps away from being improper?

That aside, with your first out-of-territory trip being the Rosehearts Duchy, his hometown being the first destination of all places, he had to wonder… 

“Sundown is nearing so they should be closing shop about now,” Trey advised, partly anxious but mostly excited to see his family again, “You could safely remove your hood, if you wish.”

“Yes. I should greet the family of my knight properly,” Your gloved hand hovered over the handle, hesitating to open it. “I had not thought of asking you before, but I should ask now that we are here—do your parents think I treat you well?”

“You do treat me well,” he insisted, firm in his stance, “and I have made sure to let them know as much. If anything, my parents are more likely to be mad at me than you.”

“About what?”

“About not telling them we were coming,” And then he opened the door for you, the scent of bread and baked goods wafting through the air instantaneously.

Several things happened at once.

First, his siblings screamed at him in the way little brothers and sisters always screamed when they found themselves energetic and excited. Two, his parents shouted his name, clearly caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. Three, you took off your hood, and though they had never seen you before it was easy to connect the dots as to who you were. Four, all went silent, meaning his mother dropped a rolling pin on the counter and his father quickly shushed his siblings.

“Sorry for the sudden visit,” he said, throwing in an awkward laugh, “My liege wanted to drop by while we were in the duchy.”

“I apologize for the intrusion,” you bowed—you did not have to, especially with you bowing first despite your position—and his family scrambled to follow suit. “I have business here in Rosehearts; I figured Sir Trey would appreciate getting to visit his family. I hope you do not mind my coming here without warning, Mr. and Mrs. Clover… and the little Clovers.”

“Of course not. We welcome you here any time, your excellency,” his father said, who had recovered his cool quickly enough. His mother, meanwhile, threw him a look that implied he was certainly getting a talking to later. “What a shame we could not prepare anything fresh for your arrival. If only our unfilial son had warned us beforehand.”

‘Unfilial! Just who were they calling unfilial?’ thought Trey, glancing at his father with incredulity.

“That is quite alright. Your son spoils me plenty—he is not only a wonderful knight, but wonderful in the kitchen as well. Dare I say—and Sir Trey, I ask you not repeat this to him—your son might be better than our estate’s pastry chef! Clearly, he…”

Trey had not been expecting you to praise him in front of his family—or perhaps he had, but just a light praise that would be enough to reassure his parents—and you had yet to stop, speaking nothing but the best of him—and Trey, conflicted Trey with his conflicting feelings, what was he supposed to do?

He supposed he was grateful you chose to not look at him, for he was sure his face was painted a color akin the brightest of strawberries, like a jam smeared across his cheeks. His parents, however, had certainly noticed—knowing glances exchanged between them whenever they were not looking at you.

“My liege is exaggerating,” he said, coughing and clearing his throat, “I often say my creations pale in comparison to yours, but I suppose it is to taste to believe.”

“Yes… in that case, I do suppose we have something to serve, though it has yet to finish cooling. It would take at most an hour.”

A signal disguised as an offer—one from his mother, and one both you and him had caught on to easily.

“I do want to tour the area a little longer. It would be a good idea for me to head out,” Trey looked at you, some hesitance to the idea.

“My liege, I am unsure if it would be safe for you—”

“The Dukedom of Rosehearts is known for strict enforcement of laws and regulations,” you retorted easily, as if you had already prepared for this argument in your head, “so there is hardly any reason for me to be unsafe. Even in the odd chance that someone targets me, I will be able to defend myself.”

‘Do not even think of accompanying me,’ you were essentially saying.

As soon as you left the premises, he was immediately hounded by his family, all with different questions and expressions of disappointment of how he could not have warned them in advance—and, of course, familial affections he returned easily and wholeheartedly. 

Once the pleasantries and ‘I-miss-you’s had been exchanged, his father pulled aside his little siblings, instructing them to head to their room so that the adults could talk.

“You have been lucky,” his mother told him, “how Lord Riddle favored you, how your current liege clearly adores you—”

“Mother—”

“—but you ought to be careful this time,” she warned, without any animosity or anger. Her tone was kind in all the ways a mother should be, but there was a certain somberness to it as well, and Trey had a feeling he would have a difficult time with this conversation. “If things go wrong, it will hurt differently this time.”

“It is not what you think it is,” Trey said, unwilling to accept the implications of the advice given to him.

“But it is, is it not?” his father countered, all-knowing in his stare. “Something there, something not quite out of the oven.”

“Are you really making baking analogies now?”

“That is not the point,” the older man said with a laugh, a laugh that relieved him of some tension. “You have always been good at pretending everything is fine, but the mouth lies where the eyes cannot.”

“By which you mean to say?”

“That we are your parents, and we can tell the difference between looking out of mere duty and looking out of interest.”

“Interest cannot be acted on,” Trey Clover was the filial son of Mr. and Mrs. Clover, who could lie to himself but never to his parents, and thus that was all he could say. “The sun has fallen, I should look for my liege.”

Look. That was all he could do.

Even cloaked, Trey found you easily—stood outside of a tea room, at a time past the usual tea time, talking with another hooded figure. Trey looked at his sword and clasped it; when he had looked back up you stood alone, as if the being was nothing but a figment of his imagination.

But it had not been—he had been sure of it, would make sure of it.

“Did you meet with someone, my liege? Perhaps been bothered by some person?” There was some benefit to him always looking at and after you, catching on to how your eyes widened slightly, if only for a moment. That was new, and it was unsettling. 

“An old friend from the academy,” you replied easily, “He was surprised I was in Rosehearts, so we took some time to catch up with each other.”

On the surface he accepted the answer readily, but something brewed inwardly, the resurfacing of an idea he tried not to dwell on any longer.

What if… you had visited Rosehearts intentionally?

Well of course you had, but perhaps it was with a purpose not strictly for business, and maybe that purpose was to meet up with the one that you had been exchanging letters with for as long as he could recount. Perhaps the reason he could not distinguish which gifts were for courtship was because there were none; that whoever it was you chose to communicate with was a secret. 

There was no real tell on whether the exchange was a matter of romance in the first place, but the exchange of intelligence and information was hardly ever done in public tea rooms, certainly not if it was a matter so important that you would travel five days from home to receive it, thus he rules that idea out. 

An affair of secrecy. It was a troubling matter.

If he were to actually think about his problems for a moment instead of pushing them aside, he would readily accept the biggest reason as to why he found himself so troubled over it—certainly not a matter of being undeserving, for who was he to talk? You had the ability to decide who deserved to be with you or otherwise—but the reason was inherently selfish, and Sir Trey Clover was not known to ever be selfish.

You were smiling on the way to your temporary residence in the dukedom. Your smiles were not too uncommon these days, often thrown in with praise difficult to not feel flustered at, but to have you smiling for more than a minute… it would mean you were more than pleased today, and he wondered how much of that had to do with the mystery man. 

He should not care too much. If you were happy, he should be happy.

“Sir Trey, I will tell you this… I think I still prefer the desserts you make,” you whispered, almost as if it was a secret that you did not want anyone hearing, despite there being no one but you and him in the carriage. That, combined with the absurdity of the claim, was enough for him to smile like you were. 

“Thank you, although that praise is difficult to believe when they are far more talented than me.”

He was unsure if you were completely sincere, but in the back of his head he liked to pretend you were. It was enough to take his mind off of other things.

“Perhaps, though I did not call you more talented than them either. I simply said I liked yours more.”

“Yes, that would be true. I suppose with how much time I have spent beside you, I likely know your food preferences better than they do,” he replied, letting out a steady breath. There was no need to overly react when there was a reasonable explanation for everything. “Although, forgive me, I do find myself questioning your tastes, my liege.”

“Hah! Sir Trey, pray tell, what do you think of my tastes?”

You looked at him expectantly. It should have been easy to answer—all he had to do was list off his observations based on what beverages you tended to request from him, which dishes you savored most, the tastes and textures you preferred more than others; despite the simplicity of the question, he could not answer. Perhaps because he knew that was not what you were asking, not exactly.

“Never mind that,” you eventually replied, wistfully looking out of the window. “Sir Trey, would you like to be home more often? To come see your family more?”

The both of you knew the answer would have been a resounding ‘yes, most absolutely, my liege,’ thus he did not say it. Anyhow, it was evident on his face, even as the two of you were shrouded mostly in darkness, only a mere flame that lit up more of your features than his.

“My liege, are you implying something?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. From where could you have gotten that idea?” You had given Trey hardly any time to dwell on the meaning of your words—for there could not truly be nothing, could there?—as you continued to talk. 

“Truth be told, I had no initial reason for visiting your hometown. I only decided to make the stop when I remembered it was your hometown; I am glad I did so. You looked happier today than I have ever seen you.”

Trey could not help the way his breath hitched, the way his heart practically stopped, if only just for a second, before beating in full force once more. Yes, he had been happy—and, only to himself, he would not deny that in addition to seeing his family once more, seeing you enjoy their company added to that. 

Whatever downer had affected him with the situation regarding the mysterious letter, and man thereafter, had been trumped by the knowledge that you had chosen to go for him. Despite him never having asked, you did so out of your own volition. It had not even been an afterthought—you chose to make it your first stop in Rosehearts.

He knew it to not be a lie, for when had you ever? Excuses, definitely, but never lies. Was it possible for happiness, affections to increase tenfold with this new fact?

“My liege,” he began, quietly. The air inside the carriage was fragile, and he did not know what would happen if it were to break, “I wish I could do more for you sometimes.”

“You’re already more than enough,” You let out a sigh. You had allowed yourself to appear slightly more vulnerable around him since the day you caught a cold, but perhaps today had worn you out for you are even more so now. “If you do any more, it would be even harder to let you go when the time comes.”

“Unlike Ace and Deuce, my ambitions are hardly lofty,” the growing desires, yes, but not his ambitions. He was more than satisfied with him being your lone knight. “It will be some time before that.”

You licked your lips, “Yes, I suppose so. But even so…”

“But even so,” he repeated, forcing himself to finally look away from you.

Trey always thought himself average—good but never extraordinary—and he had always been content with that. He was lucky with the family he had, loving and kind; the friends he had, loyal and caring; the position he had, the opportunities he had in life.

But just this once, he thought he would have liked to be extraordinary for you.

VIII.

Trey Clover could recognize that choppy purple hair anywhere. The cat ears themselves were a dead giveaway. 

“Chenya!” 

What he did not expect was for the magician to pop up in the middle of your study past supper time. The two of you had startled—he had known Chenya’s specialty had to do with disappearing from one place and appearing at another, but he had not known he could travel such far distances now. Trey had mostly been surprised, but you… you looked nervous. 

“My liege,” He approached you, as if to reassure you. Perhaps you thought his friend to be dangerous? He would not blame you, his having appeared out of nowhere. “Please do not fret, this man is—”

“Oh no, looks like I arrived at the wrong time, wrong place!” Chenya cried, glancing between him and you. “My, my, did not think Trey would be here with you at this time of night. Should I be off, or should he be off?”

“Chenya,” Trey said, not bothering to cover up his confusion, “what do you mean by that? What are you even doing here?”

He had gone ignored, you choosing to answer the magician’s question. 

“No, both of you should stay,” He turned to look at you, questions in his eyes, but you refused to even look at him. Still, he could read the look on your face well enough, discomfort and guilt visible in your expression. Why, wondered Trey, his own discomfort growing, why would you not stare him straight in the face?

“Sir Trey… I have kept this from him long enough, have I not?”

“Well, if you're sure!” Chenya appeared relatively unbothered, as if he was the only one who had not noticed the tension in the room, but he knew his childhood friend well, and that one second glance thrown in his direction had spelled out worry—but for who?

“Ah, yes, I have yet to greet you!” Chenya then bowed to you, “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker, magician from the Dukedom of Rosehearts. I am here to represent Lord Riddle Rosehearts, who sends his apologies for having me represent him again. I hope you can understand, though I believe he has already informed you beforehand through a letter.”

“He has, yes,” Despite not looking at him, you must have felt his gaze digging into you because you then revealed information only he would not be in the know of. “Lord Riddle and I have been exchanging letters for some time now, so I am aware his mother hardly gives him any free time—and I thank you, Sir Chenya, for making sure the letters fell in the right hands… and making sure his replies fell into mine.”

“Hold on,” said Trey, the pieces finally fitting together in his head. In truth, his head was beginning to hurt, thinking suddenly a strenuous activity. The ideas, the possibilities, the likely story that was forming in his head—he could not say he liked any of it. 

“My liege, the person you had been exchanging letters with this whole time was Riddle? Since when?”

“Since the Duchess Rosehearts had you removed as Lord Riddle’s knight.”

More than a year. You and Riddle had been in correspondence for more than a year and even if you wanted to deny it, he could tell that it was deliberately hidden from him, and there had to be a reason for you to do so.

“And the person you met up with the first time we went to Rosehearts was no academy friend. It was Chenya,” It was declared rather than asked, for he knew what the answer would be.

“Yes.”

“And just what was it that you and Riddle had been discussing all this time that you felt it had to be hidden from me?”

“Trey,” answered Chenya. “They have been talking about you, Trey.”

“Sir Trey,” you finally looked at him, and although it might be hypocrisy, Trey wished you did not. “I apologize that I did not tell you. We knew you would be against it, and maybe that was a sign we never should have planned it in the first place, but… please understand that Lord Riddle and Sir Chenya just care for you, and I, too, have grown to—”

“Just say it. Please,” pressed Trey, wanting you to prove him wrong.

“From the very start… we had been planning a way to get you back to Rosehearts. As Lord Riddle’s knight.”

Wordlessly, Trey stood up and left your study, all without so much a single bow farewell to you.

IX.

It took a lot for Trey to be angry. Even now, seated at the edge of the fountain to cool off, he could not describe himself as angry. He wanted to be angry, really, because if something had to do with him, should he not be in the know of it? However, though he was not angry, he was certainly frustrated, and upset, and just… conflicted.

Yes, what you said was true—if you had told him the plan from the very start he would have been against it, would likely pen a letter to Riddle and Chenya immediately telling them to stop whatever strings they were trying to pull. However, he would not have felt nearly as conflicted then. He understood that their intentions were well and good, but now more than ever he felt those intentions unwarranted. 

Maybe he would have been more accepting of the idea back then, when he had felt nothing but respect for you, but he could hardly say the same now.

It was only after the trip to his hometown that he had come to terms with the extent of his feelings for you, the feelings that were continuing to grow with each day he spent by your side as your knight. Though no clear date had been given, the idea of him leaving the estate, leaving you had upset him more than you likely knew. 

No, Trey could be in denial all he wanted, but he was not blind. You hinted at being upset at the idea too, so then why…

Of course he missed his family, and of course he missed his friends, the town which he grew up in; you clearly knew it too, but he had thought you had merely implied you would make more trips to Rosehearts, or at least allow him some time off for a trip home. Obviously he had underestimated the limits of your graciousness, as you had been trying to gauge his receptiveness to returning home for good.

There was no exaggeration to his words—he knew what it meant to leave your side. It would mean never seeing you daily, perhaps even at all; even if he had the chance to see you again, he certainly had zero excuse to speak a word to you or exchange letters with you, unless the two of you mutually decided to converse in secrecy. 

His position as your knight is the only connection he has to you, the only way he can go and talk to you, see you as freely as was allowed by propriety in public, and as freely as you allowed behind closed doors.

There was always a way to return home, but there would never be a way to return to you.

“Sir Trey,” He had spotted you hesitate to come closer to him minutes ago; had even heard you chasing after him when he had left, the clack of your shoes and the sound of your footsteps more than familiar to him, but he had not made a move to call you out. 

“You can sit down,” He lifted his left hand and patted the stone, thus he found himself seated to your right. These days he has always been at your right.

“I have already forgiven you,” Trey began to say. He had not lied just then, knowing that in his heart it was impossible to be mad at you—he had always been the type to let things slide, although this one instance was not so simple as to just wave away, “but I wish to know just what made you choose to accept that plan? What incentivized you? And why did you choose to tell me now?”

“Lord Riddle has the exact same standing as me, so when he had asked for a favor I knew it would have been a good way to forge a connection with his family,” you replied, not sounding proud of yourself. “He knew the duchy was mostly fair and just, so if you had transferred here you would be treated well. He did not ask for it, but I made the extra step to make you my personal knight.

Perhaps that was both the best and worst thing I could have done.”

“My liege,” He stole a glance at you, only to find you already looking at him. He had an inkling as to what you had meant to say, but for his own doubts and his own heart, he had wanted to hear it from you yourself, “your decision to not receive my oath, was it because you thought—?”

“That you would eventually return to being Rosehearts’ knight once they found a way to lift your ban from the estate? Yes,” you let out a long sigh, tearing your eyes away from him to look at the moon. “The reason that I tried to keep you at an arm’s length in the first several weeks? Yes.”

“Why you spoke of my leaving you as if it was a near inevitability?” he added, “That as well?”

“Yes,” Another monosyllabic reply had escaped your lips, and Trey was beginning to tire of them. You seemed to know this as you expounded on what you truly felt.

“Perhaps it is improper to admit this so brazenly, but despite my efforts I could not help but wish you would never leave my side. I knew that with your presence gone from the estate I would miss the baked goods you so often made me, the gentle chiding and reminders when I was stubborn, the quiet but enjoyable company you provided on the trips we often embarked together. 

I am afraid that my attachment to you runs deeper than what society dictates is proper—how quickly it happened, it has just been a year—and though I know it will make you happy to be home, I do not want to let you go.”

“Then do not let me go. What do you know of what will make me happy?” Trey asked. All his life he had let things pass him by, but the knowledge that your feelings had been similar to his all this time had spurred him on to finally fight back and take instead of merely giving. 

“The first time you smiled at me, and the times thereafter, it was as if you had infected me with your joy for I, too, had felt joy. When you told me you had visited my hometown just for me, my chest bloomed like… like the blossoming flowers becoming the most delicious of fruits,” Had his face not been red before it certainly had been now, a most terrible analogy at the most terrible of times—but the laugh you let out helped waver the tension between the two of you, so he supposed it was alright.

“Tonight, even with all these different emotions you have made me feel, I cannot help but feel inexplicably exhilirated just at the sight of you—at you seated beside me, being vulnerable with me, finally telling me how you see me—what I am to you. I have always wondered what I truly am to you,” Trey had suddenly stood up, his heart fluttering as your hand—your writing hand which you kept ungloved—pulled at his sleeve to stop him.

He heeded your wish for him to not rise, instead choosing to kneel halfway, emulating the unfinished ceremony from the day he became your knight. He still had not let go of your hand; he wished he had been ungloved, too.

“I do not have the same eloquence that you possess, but for certain I possess the same attachment to you that you claim to have to me, perhaps moreso. It had just been a year, but it was every day for one year, so even with how improper this is, I hope you do not blame me or cast me aside—cherishing you was unavoidable, and my feelings now are inescapable.”

You chose to remain silent, but the way you looked at him let him know he was seen, heard by you. That was all he really wanted—to look at you and have you looking at him the same way too. He could not help himself then, adjusting his hold on your hand, pulling it closer to him. 

“My liege,” It is less him addressing you and more him asking you for permission.

“Trey,” you whispered, what he knew to be a secret between you, him, and the moon. Courage granted by you, he pressed his lips against your hand, the oath he never completed. The wait was well worth it, thought Trey, for he meant it now more than he ever would have before.

“I might not be the strongest of knights, nor am I the most skilled, but if there is something I can offer you… then let it be my loyalty, the heart that beats for you. Whatever you want me to become, I will stay beside you however way you wish.”

“It will hardly be a normal relationship,” you replied, a tinge of melancholy hidden beneath the sweetness. Still, you do not reject him—your fingers came to intertwine with his, and Trey resisted the urge to kiss each individual tip 

“I will be yours—your knight or something beyond that—for as long as you will have me,” You smiled, and oh, your smiles were always so lovely, lovelier when directed at him, but tonight might have been the loveliest it has ever been. 

“Then I will be yours as well—not just your liege, but yours.”

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i’ve been doing my homework on how to break into a writing career and honestly. there’s a Lot that i didn’t know about thats critical to a writing career in this day and age, and on the one hand, its understandable because we’re experiencing a massive cultural shift, but on the other hand, writers who do not have formal training in school or don’t have the connections to learn more via social osmosis end up extremely out of loop and working at a disadvantage. 

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Helpful Links:

types of anxiety disorders

what causes anxiety?

calm breathing technique 

coping with a panic attack

counseling: does it work?

four As of stress management

grounding techniques

home tips to reduce anxiety

learning to say no without feeling guilty

ocd help

overcoming chest tightness

medication info

muscle relaxation

trick for social anxiety

rules for coping with anxiety & panic

self help strategies for PTSD

sleep aid kitten

social skills tips

more ptsd help

vitamin deficiency & anxiety

yoga poses for stress relief

12 foods for stress relief

9 steps to reduce anxiousness

Activities and DIY:

alpaca sock plushie

anxiety workbook for teens

anxiety relief - jar spell

calming glitter jar

comfort box

cute stress relief kit

panic workbook

stress relief bath and shower recipes

worksheet: learn to attack unhelpful thoughts

zen and anti stress colouring sheets

Interactives: 

100,000 stars

6 games for anxiety & depression

blahtherapy

boosterbuddy

disgruntle me

do nothing for 2 minutes

emotions wheel

make everything ok

mindshift phone app

neonflames

planetarium

rainymood

stress analyst

the thoughts room

the quiet place project

worry rockets

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I decided to open commissions! Please read the details below if you're interested in commissioning me but if you're not and still willing to support me, please check out my ko-fi!

Commission Prices:

Standard Commission Rate: $2/100 words

Dorm Sorting/Match-up: $4

I will write:

Reader insert

Fluff, Angst, and AUs

OCs (please provide references!)

Character x Character

I will not write:

NSFW

Yandere (At the moment)

Anything that makes me uncomfortable.

Notes:

All payments will be done through paypal. The commissioner will pay half the price upfront and pay the remaining half once they receive their commission.

*Match-ups and Dorm sorting will be paid in full upfront.

In cases where I go beyond the agreed number of words, the cost is on me—in other words, the extra words will be free of charge.

Prices are subject to change but will be announced with prior notice.

If you are interested in a commission, please DM me and we'll talk about the details.

SLOTS OPEN: [0/3]

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foreign | self indulgence

Some things are foreign to him,

Growing up in the coral sea,

He was unfamiliar.

When humans feel pain,

or extreme happiness,

They cry.

Keep reading

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Secret Santa Gift Exchange

Forecast: An imagine based off the first two days of Christmas. First half is about witnessing the first snowfall, and second half is about Floyd making hot chocolate for you and getting jealous over the drink. It makes sense when you read it, I promise. Currently I have a Christmas themed request in my inbox too, so I’ll make that based off the third and and fourth days of Christmas. As the title says, this was written for a specific person, but they allowed me to write it as you would in an “x reader” fiction. Warnings: Not exactly a warning, but I will say to expect a drop in quality for this one. I’m not exactly pleased with how this one turned out. Words from the Witch: “Spending Christmas with your beloved sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? I wish I could spend Christmas with my special someone. Although, they don’t even know that I like them. The woes of a lady in pining…”

Keep reading

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Hello!

I just wanted to thank everyone for the interest in the Ace betrayal theory post regardless of if you agree with it or not!

I do want to ask that if you are going to refer to my post to please link back to this post and provide credit.

Especially if you are copying and pasting my post word for word. I don't mind summarizing but please refrain from copying and pasting my whole post.

Thank you!

I'm working on a post regarding Ace and Deuce foil so stay tuned for that!

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dessie <33 your writing and analysis skills are amazing and i really hope you know that ksjhfks i have so much to learn from you.... love you sis :3

Typing Cater Diamond with MBTI!!

Forecast: Just as the title says. Know that while I did the best I could with him, there may be some inaccuracies so you are free to disagree with this. Please do reblog what you think about my analysis. I would like to know. If this gets popular enough I might do a part two, though I’m not sure what I’ll do with it so this is just a “might”. Maybe I’ll add in the Enneagram and see how his result functions with his MBTI type? Who knows. Will work on other characters in the future as well.  Warnings: None. Words from the Witch: “Huhu, did you think you were safe under my watchful gaze?” 

Keep reading

#everyone go follow my sweetest meimei she's wonderful hhhhh #my fellow personality analyst only she works a lot more with mbti #she's SO talented go follow her she makes the best works

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this. this is amazing everyone please please give this a read it’s one of the best ideas i’ve ever seen... love you vi you’re wonderful

Distorted Memories || part 1

I’ve worked on this post for multiple days in total and I’d really appreciate it if you guys gave feedback in my inbox or would reblog this post! I’ve been inspired to write this mainly by my course on dystopian fiction that I took last semester and the ongoing covid pandemic.

This series of headcanons will be set in a dystopian AU of the canon Twisted Wonderland we know. It will deal with how the different characters perceive and act with the dystopian story unfolding before them. Who will be affected? Who will make it out unharmed? What will be lost along the way? This first part is about the experiences of Idia, Cater, Trey, Azul and Vil. I recommend reading all of them and in order.

TW: Obviously this will contain lots of sadness and angst and it will deal with heavy topics such as loss, mental illness, cruelty, dystopian aspects, character death in a way, death in general, murder, distortion of the mind and mentions of torture and kidnapping. So yeah if you’re sensitive with heavy topics such as these probably don’t read this. ^^

The introduction to the situation of this AU as well as the headcanons for the first 5 characters are below the cut. They may differ in length.

Keep reading

#i am a sucker for angst and dystopian stuff so this is right up my alley sdkjhfkjsd #but fr this is amazing #yall please please read this

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Writing Request Rules

State:

Which characters and format you would like

Relevant reader traits. Do note that I will stay gender neutral whenever possible, unless I am writing for a specific friend

The relationship between the reader and the character(s)

Please:

Be patient

Be kind

Be clear

Be understanding

Avoid spamming

Do not rush me.

Give feedback, usually via reblogs. State what you liked about my writing!

Formats:

Character interactions

Characterized by a couple of paragraphs and some dialogue

Limited to two characters per request

The fastest I respond to

Headcanons

Characterized by bullet points and a more casual form of storytelling. In other words, you’ll get to hear me ramble and talk about my thoughts time to time

Limited to five characters per request

The second fastest I respond to, though this is heavily reliant on the request itself and my own state of mind

Scenarios

Characterized by multiple paragraphs and a more literary form of storytelling

Limited to one character per request

The slowest I respond to, though this is heavily reliant on the request itself and my own state of mind

Match-ups or Dorm Sortings

Self-explanatory really. These are pretty fun to do so I thought I might add them

Please tell me as much as you can about yourself since it is likely that I don’t know you! Personality test results are helpful as well, such as the MBTI, the Enneagram, or even Objective Personality, if you’re familiar with it

Response time varies. It depends on how much of a mood I am in for analyzing

What I WILL NOT Write:

Topics that are normally considered triggering

Romanticization of topics that should not be romanticized

OC or OC-coded content, unless I personally know you and understand your OC very well

Crossovers

NSFW/smut

Incest

Very specific requests, though it depends on the request itself. This includes requests that require extensive research to write about, such as certain illnesses for example

Requests that I have already done

Content that is reserved specifically for my friends and myself, such as poems, imagines, songfics, and OC-related content

Notes:

I have every right to refuse your request for any reason

I will merge similar requests

Understand that my interpretation of the characters may differ from yours

I will respond faster to requests that contain characters that I am familiar with. Please see the following list for details

Character Proficiency:

High

Azul, the first character that I fell in love with. He’s been with me for a long time and I have a lot of memories simping over him. Do feel free to tease me about my brain rot for him, I welcome it~

Trey, the second character that I fell in love with. There’s a whole story to how I fell for him, haha… I think just about everyone from the sewers know. If you so happen to be part of the server; hi, it’s me, Desrie. I love you all so, so much!  Feel free to tease me about my brain rot for him as well~

Vil, the one guy that I roleplay as most often, thanks to Riri and Vi. If you guys are reading this, hello to you as well!

Deuce, my third favourite Heartslabyul character. Keep trying your best darling, I believe in you!

Jade, the one character that I almost became a simp for. I enjoy writing him just for the sake of k-wording Spoopy

Floyd, the one character that I enjoy voice acting as when I’m in private. The way you speak is great. 12/10 would give you a hug

Xeai, my OC! In case you have forgotten, my blog is both a writing blog and an OC blog, which means that you can send in questions or even requests about her as well! I’d be really happy to receive them, haha

Moderate

Cater, my newest favourite! I’m quite familiar with his flirty and genki-type personality, but I’ve only just joined the Cater Tots squad yesterday, so I’m not entirely sure. I thank Aimee, Kersh, and Audre for that. Will update in the future~

Lilia, my dad. I’ve been told that I act like him sometimes and I even pretended that I was a female version of him once

Riddle, another character that I almost simped for. You’re cute, and I admire your dedication

Ruggie, my favourite Savanaclaw member. I never simped for him but I’ve always loved the way he acts. Let me feed you fooood!!

Ace, my other bro. I don’t relate to you much but I think you’re fun to be around with. The antics that you pull sometimes are dumb but also kind of funny

Sebek! I have no idea how to describe him actually, he’s just so memeable that it’s loveable. Keep being you, my angery artichoke. I’ll be watching you with great interest

Silver, my favourite sleepy boy. I adore how simple yet elegant he looks. He really does have that princely vibe and I kind of look up to him sometimes

Malleus, the first character that I liked. I had a penchant for the “Sleeping Beauty” aesthetic so this was of course natural. I enjoyed reading fanfictions of him a lot until I fell for Azul

Leona. I’m not the most familiar with him but I find that I write dominant characters well. I’m looking forward to see what I come up with for him to be honest

Jack, whom I respect. I admire your integrity and I hope to learn more from you in the future

Kalim, my ray of sunshine! You’re just so wholesome that sometimes I’m not even sure how to write you, because I worry that I might make you too preppy and I don’t want to let you down

Jamil, my bro! I relate to him so much in some ways, it’s not even funny. I hope that you get lots of love!! AND YOU SHOULD VISIT MOFU SOON TOO!!!

Low

Epel! I’ll have to study more on you to fully grasp who you are as a character. You intrigue me a little, if I’m being honest. I wonder what goes on in that little head of yours…?

Rook! I love you, but I don’t know how to write you without making you cringey. Help!! Your eccentric charisma is infectious, and I love it!!

Idia! You’re kind of hard for me to understand, but I find that reading Sassa’s fanfiction of you helps me a lot. She describes your headspace very well and I enjoy seeing her write about your thoughts. And since we’re on the topic of that; please, my dear readers, show @cakelewis​ some love and read her Silver x Idia fanfic! I love how in-depth her writing style is and I think you’ll enjoy it as much as I do if you prefer more elaborate writing

Ortho! You’re the same case as Idia. I honestly don’t know what to say for you other than that you’re a good boy, so I’m sorry. I hope to see more of you in the future, especially since you seem to visit me often in the game

Extra. These characters do not have a proficiency level assigned to them as not much is revealed about them to date

Divus, my… fashion designer!(?) I like your fashion sense, and I like writing you to k-word this one friend I have in a server. Looking at you, Lucia~

Sam, my favourite staff member! Love your energy and I think you’re pretty attractive. I wish we could see more of you

Vargas, that one PE teacher™! You intimidate me lots and I hope that someone like you never becomes my teacher!

Crowley, the crow dad. You’re doing a terrible job, but I think you’re cool regardless!

Neige and Chenya! I am… confused?? I haven’t seen much of you two so I don’t know what to feel about you

I think that’s all I have for now. I’ll come back to update this list every once in a while should I see fit, and I’ll make sure to reblog this post to notify you guys about any changes. For now, till then! I’m excited to see what requests you all come up with.

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Wahh okay here it is!! Happy 10th Danganronpa anniversary everyone! I decided to make a piece based off of my favourite deaths. Good luck spotting them all hee hee (Also it was really big so I split it into two images? Full image is under the cut!)

Keep reading

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Rumor goes around Yuu has been absent and sick from school the last few days…

Keep reading

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lyna you're an angel but this HURT

but i loved it all the same qwq you're a great writer!

Recognition || angst

Vil and Neige’s backstory theory + ending of chapter 5 (twisted wonderland)

Tw : physical abuse, death, angst, mentions child physical abuse (by another child)

Spoiler chapter 5

It was over. Dreams, hopes, all of his efforts ; nothing was left except despair, anger and shame. 

He didn’t even know if he still had a heart- it felt as if someone had cut off the ties between his heart and mind. 

Then, why did he feel it tearing apart ? Why did he feel the cold slowly eating his whole being ? 

His heart was still there…but for how much longer ?

Keep reading

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A few guidelines before we start, if you will.

This is an interaction blog; therefore you may send in asks pertaining to myself but please keep in mind that I have a few rules laid out so everyone may have an enjoyable experience, fufu.

Running this blog and answering asks isn't in the top of my priorities seeing as how busy I already am with my current duties, please do not rush me or that will only result in unfavourable things.

Don't send me explicit asks. I'll immediately delete any ask that breaks this rule without any hint of hesitation, though if you're a repeating offender... a block shall suffice, no? Fufu.

Being rude won't help you either, it's best that you watch what leaves your mouth.

Anything that keeps on repeating itself turns so dull and boring, no? Don't send repeats of asks I've already answered, keep me interested. I'm sure one of you will find a way to do that—one way or another, fufu."

"𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭?"

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everyone FOLLOW MY FRIEND HERE SHES SO GOOD AT WRITING AND SHE'S LEGIT THE MOST SUPPORTIVE PERSON EVER !!! LOOK at how amazing this is ;;;;

Sa Hindi Inaasahang

(English Translation: At the unexpected )

This particular scene has been stuck in my mind for some time and lord help me, I need to simp this out wwww. Honestly, props to this AMAZING Ace simp that I met on my discord server—she’s the one who shared this idea (BRAINROT) and inspired me to write this scene down wwww. This is for you, Lunar!

Note that everything written below is just hypothetical and crafted from the whims of the uncontrollable imagination of a simp :”> Warnings: Demon!Ace, Vague Description of Violence

Keep reading

[skyflicker]

come join us :3 it's amazing, I promise!!

hey everybody!! we’ve got a public discord server now!! it’s open to anyone who wants to talk about the fangan and its characters!! here’s a link, remember to be nice to everyone or mod empath will steal your knees

https://discord.gg/PHtVwF9

[skyflicker]

what can i say? i saw my chance and i took it.