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blackrose343 · 3 years

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Hopeless - Chapter 5: The Consequences

Warnings: Angst, Language and PTSD

I am not a medical professional so I cannot say if this chapter accurately portrays PTSD. I did research it and compared it to what I have written. From what I saw, it looks like the reader is going through something along the lines of PTSD. So to be on the safe side, I decided to put PTSD in the warning.

Devil May Cry - V x Gender Neutral Reader

Fanfic summary: You have been kidnapped by a Soul Snatcher clan that used to reside within Red Grave. They’re torturing you for more information about the one who helped you kill their leader. While being held captive you begin to think about how to escape, how this all started, and if someone will find you. Then again, what would happen if you escape?

Hopeless Masterlist

Sorry this took so long.

Part of the poem V reads is Auguries of Innocence by William Blake.

Present Day

Vergil returned with you to Devil May Cry not too long after the others. Everyone gathered around, excited to finally meet you. (Although, they wished it was under better circumstances.) Nero covered Nico’s mouth, quieting her before she exclaimed her excitement about meeting you. Vergil reminded everyone you’ve been through a lot and needed rest. A lot of it. He also stressed the importance of giving you space once you regain consciousness. Vergil didn’t want you to become overwhelmed by everyone bombarding you at once. You would need time to readjust to your life; to relearn what you have forgotten.

“Try not to wake (Y/N).” Vergil left the room as V approached you. A big sigh of relief left him. You were okay just like Vergil promised you’d be. Lovingly, V stroked your hair. He got onto his knees, then placed a tender kiss on your forehead. A tiny smile graced your lips. To not disturb slumber, V took his leave.

Vergil was sitting outside enjoying the night’s cool breeze. No, he was still trying to figure out how to tell V the decision he made. Ever since he made the decision he has been trying to find the best way to tell V. Vergil knew V wouldn’t take it well. Especially since he didn't know if all or some of your memories were sealed.

It wasn’t hard for V to find Vergil. He recognized Vergil’s agitated sigh anywhere. V’s expression showed Vergil he wanted to know what happened. Vergil chose to explain to V what the healer explained to him. V’s grip on his cane was so tight his knuckles whitened. He was furious Vergil made the decision of you possibly forgetting him. But, he understood why. V expressed to Vergil he wanted you to be okay no matter what. And that’s what Vergil achieved. Before V said anything he shouldn’t, he left.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, then you observed your surroundings. You had no idea where you were. After further inspection, you realized you were in someone’s bedroom. The room more than likely belonged to the man next to you. You studied the sleeping man. A book with a “V” on the cover was on his face. Pale, slender, covered in tattoos and some bruises. You wondered who he was. That thought soon vanished. Silently, you freaked out when you saw a panther by his feet. Even more so when you saw the bird next to him. Does that bird have three pupils?!

“Hey Shakespeare, wake up! (Y/N) is awake.” The bird ruffled his feathers, then flew around the room. The panther lazily yawned then looked up at you. It would have pounced onto you but the man commanded it not to. His sultry voice soothed you yet you don’t know why. You’ve never met him. Or at least you didn't think you did.

Heartbreak filled V’s eyes when you told him you didn’t know who he was. You could tell he was restraining himself from approaching you. V wanted to hold you; to do whatever he could to make you remember him. To make him feel better you mentioned his voice was familiar to you. V’s saddened eyes lightened with hope. He knew you would remember him in due time.

To get an idea of how much has been sealed away, V convinced you to tell him about your life. You briefly babbled about your childhood. Nothing too unusual about it. You glossed over your demon hunting training. You didn't have many friends because of it. You slightly elaborated your demon hunting career. Honestly, you enjoyed it and would never leave it. When you reached recent events, nothing came to mind. All you could remember was meeting with a gentleman for a job. You couldn’t remember the conversation or what the job was.

V meticulously chose his words while explaining what happened to you and how you met him. He also kept some details to himself. You took it as him not wanting to offend you. V did not want to be the reason you regain your horrid memories so soon. He knew you would remember eventually yet he will try to prolong it for as long as possible.

Few Years Later

You were surrounded by darkness. The sound of your breathing was interrupted by an agonizing scream. A familiar scream. You couldn’t remember where you heard it from. But you knew it. You instinctively followed it. The scenery changed as you made your way to the scream. The scenes varied from a bar to chaotic parts of Red Grave. It felt as if you were a part of each scene. As if you were reliving someone’s life.

The screams were muffled when you spotted an out of place door. The same door you’ve been seeing for too many nights. You banged on the door. Its barrier forced you away once again. You stared at the door, cursing at it. Each time you approach the door, the same thing happens. You didn’t know why you let yourself repeat this scenario so many times: banging the door non-stop till your hands bleed and the screaming abruptly stops. You wanted to say it was because you wanted to save whoever was behind the door. For some reason curiosity was more of a reason. You were unsure if you were curious to see who was behind the door or what was happening. There was no doubt you would find out soon. The barrier was significantly weaker than when you first saw it.

The muffled screams were non-stop. Whoever was screaming seemed to be in more pain than before. Desperately, you kicked the door while reassuring whoever was on the other side you were there to help. Nothing seemed to be working. It made no sense. It was a simple door. Nothing special about it besides the barrier. It didn’t matter. You had to get through it.

The door's final attempt to keep you away woke you. Your eyes shot open. Your mind felt hazy, then it was racing. Your heart was beating frantically. Sweat rolled down your body as you sat up. You growled from irritation when you realized you were in your room.

“(Y/N), are you alright? It seemed like you were having another nightmare.” V’s worried voice relaxed you. He softly caressed your face then kissed your forehead.

“The dream with the damned door...like almost every night now…” You were so frustrated with it. At first, you didn’t mind not opening it. You can’t always achieve something on the first attempt. After a couple weeks, well...It started to become frustrating. You tried to stop yourself from going near the door. The temptation of seeing what was behind it grew stronger with each attempt to open it. Not only did it create the most interesting scenarios the closer you got to opening it. It also seemed to be calling you to it. You were too close to give up on it now.

You yawned as you rubbed your temples. Lazily, you kissed V on the cheek then made your way to the bathroom. Whispered curses could be heard through the bathroom door.

V’s eyes followed you until the door blocked his view. His worry for you grows each time you mention the door to him. Ever since you started to dream about that door, you slowly started to become different. When the door made its first appearance, you became more irritable. V thought the irritability was from difficulty sleeping. He read poetry to you before bed but it didn’t always work.

The next thing V noticed was your interactions with everyone changed. Most of the time you would secretly observe them as if you were on a mission. Sometimes, you would barely talk to them or get lost during a conversation. V knew you were listening. It just seemed other stuff was on your mind. Other times you put up your guard when around a crowd of people.

Attempts to discuss your behavioral changes were made. Each time you yelled at V, confirming nothing was wrong. When you realized you were yelling at him, you automatically apologized. You explained to V you had no idea why you were acting the way you were. V would try to get some sort of explanation out of you. Eventually, you explained it was your dream with the door. The weaker the door got, the more realistic the dreams from it felt.

V was certain the door in your dreams was the seal to your memories. V brought up his concerns for you with Vergil the first chance he got. Solemnly, Vergil explained to V once the seal was released it cannot be remade. V was furious but hid it well. Instead of dealing with his feelings about this, he focused on you. Whenever you needed him, he was there. Whenever you were feeling down or anxious, he would do everything he could to make you feel better and safe.

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You and V were on a double date with Nero and Kyrie. Kyrie wanted to have dinner at a new restaurant on the other side of Red Grave. The subway ride there was like any other subway ride. Nothing exciting to see. All of you chatted with each other, trying to decide where else to go besides the restaurant. You were excited to see a whole new part of Red Grave. It took the government long enough to start rebuilding it after what happened. Yet for some reason an uneasy feeling started to consume you.

Kyrie and Nero got off the subway with V following behind them. They’re voices faded as they neared the exit. You sat in the subway, staring at the advertisement on the station’s wall. The advertisement seemed familiar to you in a way. Yes, you’ve seen this advertisement in many places but that wasn’t it. It was as if this specific advertisement contained something. You were convincing yourself it was nothing and to catch up with the others. You couldn’t think of any reason as to why you didn’t want to get off the subway. You forced yourself to get off when the last call was announced.

A flash from a faulty light took you to a destroyed version of the subway station. The advertisement you were looking at before was torn. Not from age but from claws. As you turned your head, you saw the subway was no longer on the tracks. It was stuck in the wall on the opposite side of the tracks. Chunks of the station were around you, along with corpses. Broken electrical wires and pipes were above you. You turned your head again. Your eyes focused on the claws about to strike you. Your instincts screamed at you to defend yourself. “Get away from me!”

“V, are you okay?!” Kyrie’s voice rang through your ears. Your eyes shot open. The station was intact. Not one thing was out of place. Nero was helping V get up. V reassured Nero he could get up on his own. You could see a bruise forming on his chest. You were petrified. Nothing could explain what just happened or why. I attacked V? No, that’s not right. I punched something else. I was being attacked.

“V, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You examined V’s chest while apologizing to him over and over. V continued his reassurance. He didn’t want to ruin anyone’s mood, especially yours. He kept quiet about how much your punch hurt him. He gently wiped your guilt ridden tears. He kissed your hand, then led the way to the restaurant. You squeezed his hand, pouring your emotions into it. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

V kept himself composed the entire time. Within himself, V was more than worried. He felt your fear through your punch. Your eyes were filled with fear and yet they had determination. The last time he saw you like this was when you almost died. V had no doubt your memories will be freed soon.

V and Nero froze as you and Kyrie crossed the street. Disbelief filled them. They couldn’t believe the shitty luck today was presenting. The restaurant was on the roof of the building you were held captive at. Nero was spitting out excuses for V to get you away from here. There was no way either of them could let you enter that building, let alone let you eat dinner exactly where you were almost murdered. Before either of them could get to you, they watched Kyrie pull you into the building. Nero muttered “fuck” as he and V made their way to the restaurant.

Nervously, you laughed as Kyrie pulled you to the building. The uneasy feeling from earlier strengthened the closer you got to it. The feeling continued to worsen as you reached the roof. Your stomach was in knots. Your breathing started to become shaky. Your mind screamed for you to get away. You couldn't understand what was going on with you. You noticed Nero and V were a bit hesitant about coming to this place too. So maybe it wasn’t just you freaking out over nothing.

You wrapped a few ice cubes in napkins then placed it on V’s chest. You kept apologizing to him. You couldn’t understand why he wasn’t mad at you. All you saw was his concern for you. You wanted to explain to V what happened earlier. Just not with an audience. Everyone would think you lost your damn mind.

You couldn't stop yourself from figuring out why the events from earlier happened. Your mind conjured up so many reasons. You tried to figure out which one was a plausible reason. You didn’t want V to hear it was because of your damned dreams again. You’ve been using them as an excuse for too long. You could only conclude work may be starting to become too much. Maybe you needed a vacation. Who knows?

“(Y/N)”? You looked at Nero like a deer in headlights. Was he reading your mind? You weren’t sure. He was giving you a questioning look. Sheepishly, you apologized for not listening then asked him to repeat himself. You found out everyone was discussing the changes made when this part of town was rebuilt.

“What happened here? I know the Qliphoth was here. It just seems something else happened too.” Nero threw V into the spotlight. V’s explanation was vague. It barely gave you the answer you were looking for. You gave Kyrie a look, silently asking her if V was hiding something from you. Kyrie’s reply was a subtle shrug. She had no idea what was going on.

Dinner continued normally. It was as if everything from earlier never happened. Nero and Kyrie acting lovey dovey. You and V were trying not to tease them. It scared you how easily everyone was able to push something like that aside.

V glanced at you, looking for any sign that you were well. Ever since you entered the restaurant he noticed you were shaking. He knew you were attempting to hide it. The shaking appeared so strong, everyone thought you were freezing. He noticed you barely touched your food even though you claimed you were starving earlier. V thought it was best if you and him went home after dinner.

You and everyone else walked along the edge of the roof to exit the restaurant. V used his cane to deviate your wandering eyes to him. He made absolutely sure you didn’t look below or beyond. He had to. He wanted to prevent you from feeling worse than you already are. He feared you would remember what happened here.

Kyrie managed to find enough room to take a couple of pictures. Nero tried to get out of it by saying he didn’t look decent enough. V attempted to convince Kyrie to wait since the restaurant was crowded. Kyrie asked what was the harm of taking a couple pictures. It’s been too long since Kyrie got to take group photos. Also, the sunset would be the perfect background. The guys sighed in defeat.

You and Kyrie gushed over the pictures as you continued to leave the restaurant. Nero pleaded with Kyrie to wait until she was out of the restaurant to look at them. Kyrie showed Nero the picture she was currently looking at. Nero made a quick comment, then placed his hands on her shoulders. You and V watched Nero guide Kyrie. It was entertaining, even impressive. Nero had Kyrie dodge everyone coming through the door.

Your laughter at Nero and Kyrie was abruptly interrupted. Someone forced their way between you and V causing you to slam into the railing. As you situated yourself, you caught a glimpse of a black haired figure below. For just a second, the figure looked like a beaten V. You knew V wasn’t down there, he was next to you. You couldn’t stop yourself from checking. You saw V, then someone strangely familiar looking at the table behind him. Briefly, you tried to remember how you knew him.

“Are you ok-tell me who killed Carmilla!” The calm voice evolved into an aggressive demand. You couldn’t figure out who was talking to you. The demand was repeated. You kept quiet. You had no idea who Carmilla was. You don’t remember any mission involving anyone with that name. The harshness of the demand escalated until it evolved into yelling in your ear. You covered your ears but it sounded like it was coming from all over. Even from right next to you.

“I’m not telling you shit. Give up.” The haughty voice was yours, but you didn’t move your lips. The sound of powerful strikes, along with your whimpers followed. Frantically, you searched for help. Nothing. No one. It was just you and the one asking about Carmilla. You closed your eyes preparing for the next strike. You started to take deep breaths. It was the only thing you believed would put everything back into place.

Few people asked if V wanted them to call an ambulance. V persuaded everyone to leave you be. He reassured them you would be fine and needed to be left alone. He knew the best thing for you was to have as much space as possible. To have as much time as you need to gather yourself. He knew you needed him too, but there was no way to physically calm you without possibly making the situation worse.

You stood still, gripping the rail for dear life. V studied the rhythm of your deep breaths and heaving chest. It was obvious you were trying to calm yourself. Even more obvious you were currently reliving your time while held captive here. Nightmarish thoughts raced through V’s mind. Nothing he conjured could be compared to what you actually went through. He wanted to understand but couldn’t come close to. In hopes of helping you and calming himself, V recited poetry from his book. “To see a world in a grain of sand…”

“WHO KILLED CARMILLA?! TELL ME! TELL...poor souls...dwell in night...does…” Softly, the harsh demands transformed into V’s poetic voice. You completely focused on V’s voice, hoping he wouldn’t stop. The man in front of you morphed into V. Tears cascaded your face as you tightened your closed eyes. You begged V to stay with you. You wanted nothing more than for this madness to end.

Gingerly, you opened your tear ridden eyes. You were back at the restaurant. For the most part, everything was back to normal. It was darker and people were failing to not steal glances at you and V. V was still standing next to you. He gently closed his book, then turned to you. Concern and worry were radiating off of him. V pulled you into a hug as soon as he saw your tears. You gripped V’s hand for dear life as he led you out of the restaurant.

As soon as V opened the door, Griffon flew around the house. You headed to your bedroom with Shadow behind. You collapsed on the bed, burying your head in your pillow. You released the anxiety and fear you have been holding. You screams and cries could be heard throughout your home. To help calm yourself you cuddled with Shadow, letting her fur catch your tears. Shadow’s purring was the perfect lullaby to fall asleep to, especially after today.

“...H-HE-LP!...HELP!...He-help...” Those pleas were all the encouragement you needed to continue to get through the door. Nothing was going to stop you this time. You mustered your strength then delivered one final strike against the door. The barrier dissipated, as it pushed you away one last time. The door became ajar.

Regret consumed you as soon as you stepped through the door. A blinding flash brought you to an abandoned building. Someone similar looking to the man from the restaurant was interrogating someone who looked like you. The person being interrogated was severely beaten. It was obvious the man was doing whatever he pleased. No one was around to stop him. It wouldn’t be long until the person was dead. In an attempt to stop him, you jumped on his back. He threw you across his back. Somehow you merged with the one you were trying to save.

The man deeply slashed your abdomen. He was merciless. It felt as if he was never going to stop until he got what he wanted. Not once did his sinister smile disappear. If anything, it grew with each of your screams, your pleas. You screamed for help but no one came.

The strike to your head was excruciating. You gripped your head, screaming, as your mind released every single memory that was sealed away. Meeting V at the grocery store. Tracking Carmilla. Working with V. Your fight with Carmilla. Your captivity. All of them. It was too much for your mind to process at once.

V raced to your bedroom as soon as he heard you scream. Quickly, he studied the room and determined nothing was amiss. V attempted to loosen the ironclad grip you had on your head. V winced from pain when you grabbed his hands. It was possible you may have sprained his finger or two. V didn’t care. He stayed with you, reminding you how strong you are and how you can get through this.

Once you were calm V asked if you were hurt. Hysterically, you described your nightmare. The torture, the pain. The rush of other dreams within it. It felt so real to you. As if it happened to you as you dreamt it. V tried to explain that even though you were attacked in your dream it doesn’t mean the attacks actually happened. You were having none of it. You described every attack explicitly while tracing each one on your body.

V tried his best to calm you. Nothing he did relieved you. Not one bit. Your mind was frantically processing the memories it released. You couldn’t think straight. V tried to hug you but you pushed him away. His hurt expression made you feel worse, but you had no choice. You needed to stay away from him. You weren’t sure if the one in front of you was V or a Soul Snatcher; friend or enemy.

“Who the fuck are you?” Shakily, you cocked your gun, indicating you weren’t playing around. Shadow immediately placed herself between you and V. Griffon babbled about you not recognizing V or them. You didn’t care. You just needed to know what was going on.

“(Y/N) put the gun down and I’ll answer all of your questions.” Your defensive aggressiveness from before your memories were sealed has returned. There was no way V could weasel his way to convince you nothing was going on. To V this situation felt like he was reliving his very first encounter with you.

Your eyes narrowed with suspicion. Would he attack once you lower your gun? Will he actually tell the truth? What if this was a Soul Snatcher? Too many questions raced through your mind. You had no idea what part of yourself to listen to. Fuck it. You needed answers. “Lie or attack, I’ll make you regret it.”

For your sake V had to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. He recalled when he gave you the ring you were wearing. Hearing your argument made V realize it was pointless to retell the time you spent together. He was determined to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. No matter what. The only thing he could think of that a Soul Snatcher couldn’t do was summon Nightmare. Doing so caused quite a scare for your neighbors.

Your neighbors panic soon turned into silence. Irritated tension was all either of you could feel. Both of you wanted to say something. Neither of you knew what to say or where to start. So you both stayed quiet, trying to figure out what to say. The silence was unbearable for Griffon but he managed to stay quiet. God knows what either of you would do if Griffon said anything.

You took one deep breath, then decided to tell V everything about your time in captivity. The torture, the Soul Snatchers involved, your thoughts. Everything. You turned yourself away from V when you started crying. V attempted to reach over to comfort you but you indicated for him to stay where he was. You didn’t want to be touched by anyone.

V wanted to hold you. He wanted to do anything and everything he could to remind you you’re safe with him. But he fought himself from doing anything that would make you uncomfortable. He knew you would fulfill your promise if he did anything you saw as a threat.

If V had to be honest, he didn’t want to explain what happened when he found you. Besides the fact he was like you; not wanting to show weakness or vulnerability. He isn’t proud of how he reacted. That night was a tornado to him. It was fast and destructive yet it was a blur. Still. It was no excuse to not tell you. You told him everything. Now it was his turn. V sucked it up and reluctantly told you what happened.

You listened to V, unsure how to take it. At first, you were terrified to hear you almost died. (You remembered you made the choice but it was frightening to think about.) Soon fright turned into anger. You blamed V for having your memories sealed. Not long after, you questioned if being with V was the right thing for you. You even questioned if you would be with V after everything that happened.

V sat across from you, waiting for you to say anything. He was aware you were angry. He knew you would need time to process everything. It could take a long time, but V was more than willing to do whatever he could to help you. Except for one thing.

“I-I...I don’t know how to take in all of this...I-I think I need to sp-spend some time away from y-you. To absorb everything I just remembered..a-and what we just talked about...I also have to think of what’s be-est for me.” V’s heart broke in two. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was at a loss for words. He was unable to argue with you.

“Don’t.” You froze. V’s hand was hovering above yours. Without touching you, he guided your hand to lower itself, then release the clothing you were holding. Was V going to convince you to stay with him? You couldn’t tell. You knew he was going to say something. He was close to you but stepped away. “You should stay here. I’ll leave.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Why would he leave? You should be the one leaving. You whipped your head around to see if V was really leaving. He was. Already he grabbed his bag, then his book. It didn’t take long for him to gather the rest of what he needed. Once he was packed, he approached you. You anticipated him doing some gesture to say goodbye. Your heart broke when he did nothing except say his goodbye. With each step V took away from you, you felt more alone than ever before. When he was completely gone you believed you made the wrong choice.

#devil may cry #devil may cry v #DMC #dmc v #v devil may cry #v x reader #dmc v x reader #dmc5 v x reader #dmc vitale #vitale x reader #vitale

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ythmir-writes · 6 years

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Wish Upon A Star ch02

Byron Wagner x MC Fandom: Midnight Cinderella

Summary: princesses can be stubborn when it involves bday gifts. but what do you give a king wanting for nothing?

No warnings

[Happy Birthday King Byron!! (better late than never!)]

A/N: in which i push the extent of how much transitioning i can get away with. also was supposed to be a birthday story but somewhere along the way, it lost that theme. insanely indulgent. but please consider giving it a look anyway.

spare some ko-fi?

Chap 02

Prologue, Chap 01, Chap 03

“Sugar stars!”

She could still remember the first time she had seen sugar stars; how the little girl had beamed at her, shoving a small glass bottle into her hands. “They will help with your wounds! Promise! Papa says they can heal anything!”

It had not been the most awe-inspiring circumstances. She had almost received a broken nose after all, not to mention suffered a few minor injuries. It had been during a routine inspection of the docks. For all that Wysteria boasted of the lowest tariffs and customs duties to the point that it was almost free to import and export wares into their market, there was no shortage of smugglers or illegal trade. The Princess Elect, as part of her campaign to remain aware first-hand of the plight of her people, had joined Alyn and his knights in their patrol, though discreetly, and wearing a helmet besides.

It was simply unfortunate that that had been the time trouble would get out of hand. A sudden commotion by the warehouses. The unmistakable wailing of a little girl being carried far away from her father.

She could never turn a blind eye to that.

Nevertheless, it had turned out to be a fortunate turn. For the daughter. For the merchant named Nithya, who turned out, knew his way around a street fight gone wrong when given a weapon. And for the rest of the merchants who felt safer from then on in using the warehouses to store their goods. But not so much for the sharks, or their unscrupulous members. Not even for most of Nithya’s wares regrettably, which had been collateral damage.

Or to her left hand even, which had suffered a bad cut when she was trying to deflect a strike aimed at Nithya’s youngest daughter.

As if to apologize, the little girl had rushed to thrust the confectionary into her hands - well, hand - while Alyn had been busy tutting beside her and inspecting her wound, murmuring something about Giles and losing his head.

Technically, they were not really stars, or shaped like them even, but if she raised the flask filled against the light, the colors sparkled alive. They had certainly been twinkling then amidst the rubble of the warehouse and the groans of several men echoing through the dark.

She had only been mildly curious about it, offered to her after all by Nithya’s daughter as nothing more than to help grit her teeth against the sting of the salve to her cuts. They looked like any other fancy treat from the eastern kingdoms, nothing more. She had seen more peculiar specimens.

It had been Nithya’s stories, as he offered salve for their wounds, that had gotten to her. Time seemed to have suddenly stopped and all there was his stories and the flicker of something different in his eyes.

Upon tasting the treat, she had confirmed that it was just indeed sugar.

“Balled into tiny clumps.” Alyn’s voice had been sullen as he shook more of the candy into his palm. “I take it back. It’s too perfect to be a clump.”

“You don’t like it?” She had asked.

“Like it? I absolutely despise it.” Alyn had grumbled and then knocked back five into his mouth. “Because I only know of exactly one rumored method you could turn sugar into something like this and it takes days. In front of a very hot pan. Extremely arduous process.”

“Can you do it?” She had tried to avoid the excitement from seeping into her tone. Alyn had made a face that looked like he was already being tortured.

A no, then.

Before Alyn could rattle more of the candies out of the flask, she took it from him. “I was enjoying that.” He had said.

She had turned then to Nithya, a grin already unfurling on her lips, an idea beginning to bud and grow in her mind. “Nithya, can you procure more of these?”

“Of course, your Highness, Although it would take some time. With my shop in its state, I am not sure I can -”

“My knights will see to your shop. And I am willing to pay double. Triple even! But I need three flasks exactly fifteen days from now, not a day later.”

Nithya, whose color was only returning then, had suddenly paled again. “Your Highness - ”

She then motioned to his pottery. “It takes even longer to make these, am I mistaken? Surely, making candy would be easier?”

Alyn had hissed through his teeth. “Arduous process? Remember?”

She had ignored Alyn. “You’re turning down my illustrious offer?”

“But my wares -!”

She then named her final price.

Both Nithya and Alyn had gasped.

“Are you insane?” Alyn had said.

“Princess, your generosity is too much! Even for three flasks! I cannot accept so much of it without feeling as if I have cheated you! This is not -!”

She had waved both of their fussing away with her bandaged hand. “Three flasks. Filled to the brim. You say these grant miracles, yes? Then perhaps this deal is something close enough to it.”

And that had been that.

Or rather, that was supposed to have been that.

The bed was extremely inviting when she had returned to her chambers after her visit to the Crawford manor, laying down face first unto the mattress, not even bothering to remove her coat or boots. Even when the familiar cheery air of Nico Meier, her butler extraordinaire, greeted her as he pushed a tea trolley into the room, she had simply made enough noise to be comprehensible. Thank you, leave it there, I simply need a moment.

But as much as she was physically unmoving, her body like lead sinking deeper into the mattress with each second, her mind was still vacillated,swinging incessantly between her options.

She shouted into her pillow, one obscenity after another.

And that was when Robert Branche had come to visit her.

The esteemed painter had not even bothered to wait for her reply when he knocked, instead opening the door and walking in when others would have waited outside quaking in their shoes.

“I am sure to others this would be a good time to avoid you,” He said. “But I suppose our history has made me somewhat immune to your…” He paused, choosing his words carefully, his eyes misting with nostalgia. “Sudden outbursts of profanity.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She replied with a huff of breath. “At least, not always anyway.”

“I brought tea.” Robert continued as if she had not replied at all, showing her a small box filled with brown bags before he busied himself with the trolley. Soon, the pleasant smell of spice and flowers filled her room.

She hoisted herself up from her bed. “What are you giving Byron?”

“I waived my commission fee for him.” Robert answered.

Apparently, he had been commissioned to make an extensive map of Stein and its new borders, complete with detailed minutiae that even he could not divulge fully. Its size had proved to be a balk to Robert’s studio and he had been forced to move rooms.

“I heard you were having trouble with Byron’s birthday gift.” Robert then said.

“Trouble is an understatement.”

“Tell me about it.”

Perhaps it was the way Robert had said those words, or perhaps the way he planted himself sitting on her sofa with two cups of tea before him. Regardless, Robert was poised to listen.

So she sat across him and told him of what she had learned.

It was not news that sugar was rare in the eastern kingdoms; Wysteria was simply fortunate to be able to import sugar to add to its own supply. In turn, it was not news that sugar stars were rarer. Not only because of the scarcity of the ingredient but also because making them took an extensive amount of time.

It was one thing to harvest and procure the sugar and another to melt, mix, and harden it. Again and again and again.

Perhaps it was the repeating process; it would not be the last time that labor oft-repeated with a singular purpose spawned supernatural results. Perhaps it was the emotion behind the process; unwavering belief, after all, is all that is needed to make known those that were unknown. Or perhaps, it was all three that made the sugar stars so unique.

The rarity. The toil. The orison.

If one looked at it that way, then it was possible that something so austere could bring relief, euphoria, and more.

She had been told that a man had once walked the earth with dreams bigger than he could ever hope to fulfill in a lifetime. That to bring peace he had sacrificed himself, abandoning the world. That in the penultimate moment he had wavered, beseeched as he had been by his beloved. Stay, she had said. There is still so much more to be done. Yet he could not undo his acts. And that in an effort to salvage the pipe dream he had held on for so long, or perhaps to selfishly stay just one moment longer, he had heeded her. And they had taken the sugar stars. And that they had been snatched away from the grip of death to walk the earth in eternity.

Regardless of how or why, some truly believed that sugar stars hold some sort of magical capability. There have been many accounts of sugar stars bolstering morale, of curing unknown maladies, of making lame men walk, of taming even the wildest of beasts. There were tales that superhuman guardians kept sugar stars stored in the center of complex labyrinths, allowing mortals only a scant supply.

Others dismiss the rumors as mere fairy tales. After all, how can something so simple be a source of miracles? They’ve eaten sugar stars before and were no better for it. There was no logical explanation that mere sweets could ever help accomplish superhuman tasks. The rarity of sugar was a legend in itself and it would be no surprise that it had inspired more than one tall tale. Facts swapped for fantastic prose. Identities twisted. Spice and glamor added to create a dizzying concoction.

And yet, in her mind, she could still see Nithya as he had told his tales; the solemness in his voice, the slight quiver in the air, the reverence that was unmistakable in his eyes as he ended.

Wishes.

Miracles.

A second life.

Eternity.

Needless to say and regardless of whether they were as far-fetched as it all sounded, she had no intention of reneging on her deal with Nithya. She had given her word, and her word was her honor; no amount of personal discomfort could ever make her take back what she had promised. If anything, she thought she had made a new friend; one that had blossomed from a chance meeting, her desire to protect her people, and peppered with stories of lands she had never seen, of valiant acts she hoped she could also one day accomplish.

As she summed it up, she wondered out loud if they were true and she admitted that deep in her heart, she wanted them to be. It seemed impossible and there was simply no way of ever finding out, of ever confirming the veracity of his stories.

But she had dreamed of little else since then.

“Do you still intend to give him the sugar stars?” Robert asked.

“Yes.” She said. “I still do want to give him something at least.”

A pause.

“Valeria?” Robert’s tone had been soft. Too soft. And she knew the next line would be far from forgiving. “Why do you regard your gift to be so insignificant that Byron would not like it best?”

She stammered, “Well, I -”

But before she could start Robert had cut her off, “Don’t you think that is something for him to decide? After all, it is his present.”

Silence. Except for the sound of Robert setting down his teacup. And for some reason, it seemed to stretch on forever.

“You should sleep.” Robert finally said. “It’s been an emotional day.”

“Okay.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper and it sounded more like an acquiesce to an order than an affirmation of fact.

“Valeria.” Robert had called out again, but gentler this time. She looked up then to see him looking at her with surprising tenderness on his face. “There are far more precious things in life.” he continued. “Far better things that can’t quite be wrapped up with a bow. Take it from someone who’s seen stranger things.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to find the right words to frame a question that was creeping in her mind for some time.

“What exactly do you give a King wanting for nothing?” Robert chuckled. And yet it seemed like there was a twinge of pain in it too. “It’s the simple things, isn’t it? Like wishes within a bottle.”

“Robert -”

And then all of a sudden, someone had knocked a her door, interrupting them. “Enter.”

“Your Highness, my lord, forgive the lateness of the hour.” It was Tobias, one of her personal guards. “The merchant, Nithya. He’s here. He has come to deliver the sugar stars, my lady.”

#midnight cinderella #byron wagner #ythmir fanfics #ythmir writes #its insanely indulgent right right??#guess the crossover haha

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