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kurimiaki · 2 years

Note

could you write something about lilia and a reincarnated darling? <3

tw: yandere, female reader, implied bodily torture and mutilation (not of you)

World histories hasn’t been an enjoyable class for you. Mozus Trein is a very particular professor, critical of even your best responses, vivisecting you in front of all your peers at the slightest discrepancy or marginal error. Your professor is well-trained in the art of intimidation and the persecution of all slackers that may lurk in his room. Class time drones on, endlessly, and you’ve scarcely even a single acquaintance to help bide the time.

This topic is interesting, though. The collapse of a small, insignificant kingdom, the battle of Briar Valley and a king and queen of old, a cyclically one-sided event that rather plays out as fiction. A lost princess, accusations and long-winded court trials, diplomatic ruin, the embers of war quickly snuffed out by the larger nation. The textbook reads like a novel. You turn ahead, forward a page or two, because really, it wasn’t a long section to begin with. Trein was going to omit it from the test entirely, finding it unnecessary material, but something somehow crucial to learn all the same.

You come across a copy of a letter, dated back a century or two; the paper itself seems singed and wrinkled in the photo, ink smudged and writing scrawled messily about the page. It speaks of an individual’s captivity, of months spent secured in a dungeon cell, of the creature that endlessly tormented them, claimed to love them, who they feared would strip them of their life.

A small clarification is printed on the margin, a historian’s assumption that the letter was written by the princess herself. A final goodbye. Her corpse, singed and decomposing, fetid and nearly unidentifiable, was found within her castle’s dungeon not months after that insignificant royal family fell to ruin.

They were decapitated, in the end, the king having been charged with the murder of his own child. Embezzlement and countless other crimes were identified, as well, but it was the princesses death that shook the nation. He was presumed to have obsessed over the girl to a point of no return, placing the blame of her ��kidnapping” on an allied kingdom instead, acting as a distraught father to obtain plausible deniability.

Mangled, tainted, scorched, and disembodied, she lived her last months in misery and torment, enduring and just taking the brunt of her father’s sickening obsession. The text describes it, too, vividly and without filter. It makes you nauseous.

Too insane to be fit to rule, it was an act of heroism from Briar Valley that ended his reign. A portrait illustrates the very hero who found the princess’ corpse, who caught the king in an act of human atrocity, who exposed his every repugnant scheme. He rather looks like Lilia Vanrouge.

Bewildered by the staggering similarity, you turn around to peak at Diasomnia’s vice house warden, who lazily doodles on scrap paper, casual and reclined. This hero’s hair is much longer, sure, his bangs without Lilia’s messily chopped style— you look from the print and back to him, and wonder if you’ve lost your head. Slitted dark eyes snap up to meet your own, startling you in your seat, bordering on a small yelp. But Vanrouge only beams at you benevolently, sending off a little wave with a nod of his head.

Yours is a little more uneasy, a wary little grin, and you’re eager to return to your studies with a quick turn of the head.

Little else is written of this hero, much less a name, and you frown in irritation at the lack of explanation the text provides. What happens next, what of the kingdom’s people, what of the hero and how he lived and died, if he bore such significance to the past. By time the bell tolls and your peers become jittery for lunch hour, you’ve reread this section at least three times, scouring paragraph after paragraph for an inkling of a name or information, dissecting and staring at this hero’s portrait in avid curiosity.

Sat in the library without even a snack to tide you over, you absorb yourself in the textbook once more, now crazed by confusion and a lust for discovery. Professor Trein hadn’t any more information on the matter, merely recommending the obvious, to search Night Raven’s vast archives. You hardly took time to watch where you stepped as you rushed out of the classroom, not noticing a faint call of your name.

It would be smart to just comment on his resemblance, and perhaps you’d hear that Lilia gets it all the time, that it’s a bizarre doppelgänger, or perhaps a great-great-great-grandpa who’s stories he’s inherited and treasured. You consider every outcome and interaction, as you trace your fingertips along book-spines in search of a clue, flipping through old tombs and random novellas dated centuries ago. Nothing crops up, but you’re so oddly determined…

Lilia Vanrouge wasn’t a boy you had ever thought to interact with. He’s intimidating, with how he eerily sneaks up on others and seems so much more mature than any of his peers. Perhaps you’re just overthinking, but nonetheless, he scares you. It feels as if he’s always watching. You’ve never taken the chance to greet Lilia, and don’t plan to, but you turn your heel to march back to your table and come face to face with him.

You gape for a moment, but snap your mouth shut and lean back. He laughs. “You’re jumpy, aren’t you? I can’t remember the last time someone leapt so high at the sight of me.” Nearing a chortling now, Lilia’s jeers prompt you to frown in deep embarrassment, still in shock at his presence.

“I yelled after you, you know. You’re quite fast, like a little rabid rabbit.” Stomaching the derogatory insinuation that you were a viciously contagious animal, you ask him what do you want, snippy and short, and Vanrouge grins. All teeth and malice.

He takes a pen from his pocket, your favorite, the one with bunny ears for a thrust device, with carrot printed on its barrel. At your blatant staring, the way your whole body goes rigid, Lilia barks an impossibly harsher laugh. “I found it a few weeks ago— matches perfectly with that darling carrot folder you use in class. It’s yours, is it not?”

“Yes,” You grit, moving to snatch it back, but Lilia edges away, tutting condescendingly. Tantalizingly waving it before you, the vice house warden chides, “Yes….?”, and lord, are you grateful to have never pursued his friendship. You relent, muttering please without meeting his eye, and soon the pen is back in your waiting hands.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lilia beams, crossing his arms behind his back and squinting his red, slitted eyes giddily, as if you were some toy to poke and prod. Huffing in annoyance, you turn away, then swell in relief to hear him saunter away. You’re relieved, sure, but without an answer. Left with your textbook and the endlessly looming bookshelves chock full of information, but nothing that you’re looking for. He’s the only means you have at stomping out this curiosity that gnaws at you. He’s still here, distantly lurking in your peripheral, but not for long.

You swallow, hesitating to speak, but muster the gumption to call after him.

It’s odd just how quickly he appears again, situating himself right before you in some chair that wasn’t there before. Through thick lashes he gazes up at you, expectant and silent, and you stamp out the urge to fidget before him.

“You… You look like the man from our textbook,” You fire away, surprised at your own bluntness. So eager. He smiles, quirks his brow, and leans back in amusement. “What man?” Lilia locks onto your every movement, inspecting and what feels like dissecting as you flutter about your work station, flipping to the familiar page. You point, and he leans in, inching closely to your side, much more than what is necessary to see. But you allow it, curiosity be damned.

He’s silent, and you’re sweating, hoping not to have offended him. “I’m not trying to be rude,” You can hardly withstand his ‘mildly’ teasing asides as is, “but there is a resemblance, isn’t there…? Are you… related or something?” He laughs again, of course he does, but this time Lilia shakes with it, enduring the tremors of his glee while nearly buckling over in his seat. It goes on, and you’re forced to apologize to surrounding students in his stead.

Hushing him, bending down to lay a weary hand upon his quaking shoulder, you whisper, “I’m really not trying to make jokes, vice-housewarden.” So formal.

At your words (or touch, from how quickly he stills at the sensation of your hand— you remove it immediately), Vanrouge sobers, though still giggling to himself quietly. “Lilia will do just fine. And no, this man is not my relative,” he breathes a small, incredulous huff at that, “though I’ve been reminded of our uncanny resemblance more than once.”

A disappointing answer, really, but he continues. “But that isn’t the only thing you’re eager to know, is it?” he inquires, prompting you to frown at his sly tone, the near perverse way in which he looks at you. You shake your head, still hesitant and cautious, but marveled at his I-know-more-than-I’m-letting-on attitude all the same. He rises, winks, takes your hand and ventures deeper into the library’s labyrinth of shelves. Too nervous to pull away, you allow yourself to be handled and dragged along, and you try not to speak to how faintly his thumb rubs over your pulse.

Before you is the restricted section. Thick chains bar off a small row of bookshelves, and you question why the staff would place such a tantalizing venture in public eye, amongst these unsavory students, but Lilia bypasses their meager warnings with a flick of a wrist. The chain unravels, powdery dust flies from it, and you don’t think you even saw Lilia use his wand.

He lets go of you. After a moment in festering silence, onlooking quietly as he deftly rakes his eyes over varying titles and genres, Lilia lets out an ‘aha’. He provides you with yet another grin before suddenly, a scroll is opened and placed in your hands.

“I’ve heard rumors as to the truth of that little story,” your eyes flicker to him and to the aged paper laid delicately in your palms, feeling quite burdened to hold an obvious artifact, “and I can tell it to you, if you can bear to listen.” Nodding, you don’t think for a moment as you touch the ancient article, untying silky ribbon and undoing a small seal with shaky precision. He joins you, looking on eagerly.

“She truly was taken, the girl, but that corpse they found was more likely a maid than any royal princess.” He speaks in confidence, spinning his words without an inkling of hesitation. “Briar Valley has quite a few towers, you see. Our palace is remarkably large, looming above it all, the Valley of Thorns and its people.” His finger taps the scroll, which you have yet to unfurl, and as you do, your stomach begins to curl. Your throat begins to close. “And within the tallest one, I found a lovely painting, a portrait, not dissimilar to the one you hold now.”

It’s you, sketched on this paper, your face captured so acutely and with such precision, facial structure and countenance vividly mirrored. Every freckle and groove and scar and unnoticeable little quirk. It’s you, adorned in jewels and an old gown, so aged and ancient and unlike anything you’ve ever worn before. Your knees buckle beneath you, for a moment, but you don’t fall. A cheek rests upon your shoulder, and Lilia’s pointed nail raises to trace your illustrated likeness.

“You don’t remember, I’m sure, but I can recall how positively petrified you were to hear of your father’s demise. It’s truly a shame that you don’t, but I suppose I should be grateful to have a fresh start.”

Beside you, drawn exactly as he appeared in that textbook-rendition, is Lilia, without an inkling of doubt— you feel your throat tighten more, suffocating you, your whole body taking pause before trembling. It’s a mix of shock and awe and long-suppressed trauma that prompts you to cry, weep, but on you, tears looks so pretty, and Lilia can not restrain himself from wrapping his arms around your quivering form.

#yandere tw #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia vanrouge x reader #twst #yandere twst #my writing #requested

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bun-lapin · 8 months

Text

Masterlist

Twisted Wonderland

One Shot Series: Confessions (Series summary: The students of NRC confess their love to you)

Rook Hunt

Kalim Al-Asim

Idia Shroud

Floyd Leech

Vil Schoenheit

Silver

Leona Kingscholar

Trey Clover

Additional Fics and One Shots

NRC Staff Story: Food Thief

The Gingerbread Gauntlet (part 1)

The Gingerbread Gauntlet (part 2)

The Gingerbread Gauntlet (part 3)

The Gingerbread Gauntlet (part4/END)

Short Scenes (word count under 800)

TWST Voice Line Scenes Masterlist

Summer Rain in the Forest (feat. Lilia, child Silver)

A Memory: Mozus Trein

A Kiss: Vil Schoenheit

A Dance: Jamil Viper

An Echo: Divus Crewel

A Breath: Azul Ashengrotto

Deleted scene from Idia's Confession

First Years Prank Wars (feat. Ace, Deuce, Epel, Sebek)

Headcanons

TWST Staff Unique Magic

TWST Frog Housewardens

Mementos: Pomefiore

Mementos: Heartslabyul

Mementos: Octavinelle

Original Characters

TWST Staff OC intro: Hui-Yan, Iomhar Dubhghall

TWST Staff OC intro: Ingrid Oster, Edric Rohdri

Rumors: Ingrid Oster, Edric Rohdri (feat. Ace, Deuce, Grim)

Answered Requests

Game night with the first years

HC: Reader likes random NPC not Malleus, Deuce, Azul, Leona, Ruggie, or Jack

Game night with the first years: part 2

Silver x f!reader: Meeting the family

A congratulations kiss for spelldrive/track club boys

Cater x gn!reader: Insecurities about monolid eyes

Events

100 Follower Event (closed)

#twst #twisted wonderland #masterlist #bun-lapin écrit

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naerwenia · 1 year

Text

Looking for the cat (Mozus Trein x f!reader)

Just a drabble about reader and Lucius, I told myself, and wrote over 1000 words. Enjoy! And enjoy the catpic in the end <3

Suggestive themes, but mostly safe. A bit of dark or yandere Trein, both Trein and reader try to think of each other as family, but it is not working, and a hint of petplay.

Mozus Trein was walking through the college grounds, looking through every corner of the school grounds, every classroom and every hallway, only to see no trace of Lucius. It wasn’t unusual for him to go explore a bit, but it was winter and this was the third time this week Lucius was nowhere to be seen for more than an hour. Of course, Trein had been busy with grading and such, but usually Lucius still spent that time with him in his office. It was weird and a bit concerning, but more than that he was worried about the little fluff ball.

After looking for him all over the school, Trein had to stop and think. Where could Lucius have gone? Who Lucius liked enough to leave Trein behind for an hour or so? The only one that came to mind was you, but would Lucius make the walk to Ramshackle Dorm just to meet you? Trein would, and knowing how much he and Lucius were alike, he might too.

It wasn’t that long of a walk, just a bit hazardous, and Trein had to make a note about it to the school, to make sure the road was fixed and the thorny bushes changed to something less dangerous to cats and you. Maybe he should make the change himself or ask Crewel to make it a lesson in transfiguration for the seniors.

It had been sometime since he last visited Ramshackle Dorm, but it seemed like you had done some small renovations already. No longer was the roof looking like it might fall down any day, and the walls looked like they actually kept the wind and coming snow out. Maybe you would make it there through the winter? Still, he would prefer you having a room inside the school building, next to the offices. Other dorms were out of the question, you were a girl and all the other students were boys, and while they were all students just like you, Trein didn’t trust them to treat you properly, especially when you had no magic to defend yourself with. At the same time, you all alone in a large mansion that was almost falling down was unacceptable. Trein was almost hoping a storm would give it a hard enough knock so you would finally realise it was for your own good to move to the faculty’s building, at least until your dorm got adequately repaired, or another safe option would appear.

When Trein made it to the dorm’s main hall, he could hear you talking softly, like you were talking to a child and telling a story. It was… calming. Mozus followed your voice, finding you sitting on the living room floor on top of a fluffy rug, basking in the light of the fireplace, while Lucius was in your lap, loudly purring.

“... And then the basket was full of fishes and the five loaves of bread turned to… ten even larger fishes,” you told the cat, who just purred louder and Mozus could see the drool dripping from Lucius’ mouth. You were just making the story as you went along, but you put all your heart into it, making sure Lucius liked it and that it was appropriate too. Mozus couldn’t help but smile, looking at the two of you, so comfortably together in the warmth of live fire, which seemed to be listening too, at tense moments quieting down and at joyful moments crackling and roaring, reaching the top of the fireplace.

So entranced by the serene scene, Mozus Trein just waited for you to be done before making his presence known. It startled you just a bit, sensing there was someone, but still surprised it was Mozus. It seemed to startle Lucius more, but he was excited to see Mozus, running to him and jumping to his arms.

“Seems Lucius has been in good hands,” Mozus said, gently petting the black cat in his arms.

“I probably should have told you he might be spending time here, just so you wouldn’t worry yourself to death,” you said, sorry for not having said anything to him and making him walk all the way to the dorm just to find Lucius.

“But now I know, and I know he’s in good hands,” Mozus said, smiling while petting the black cat who had had the best day of its life, first being cared for in the warmth of the fire, and now being in the arms of Mozus (and not having to walk back home).

“I also fed him meat so don’t trust him when he says he has never been fed,” you laughed, a gentle and joyous laugh filling the room. So cute was all Mozus Trein could think seeing you laugh and smile.

“I think I better be going. I still have papers to grade,” Mozus said, petting the purring Lucius, who seemed more than ready to fall asleep again, “and remember, please…”

“Tell you if I need anything, yes sir,” you said, finishing his sentence, the same words Mozus had said many times like a worried father, “See you tomorrow then”.

After Mozus and Lucius left, you were alone with the fire, which felt colder than before. You were also left with thoughts you had no idea what to make of them. Mozus felt like a father-figure to you, more than anyone else here, but he was the one you also felt the most attracted to. Sighing, you stared into the flames, trying to find an answer to the feelings you wanted to keep hidden, but the loneliness you sometimes felt made you want to run to him, be held by him, and have him comfort you, tell you everything was fine. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who understood the isolation you felt, even when surrounded by others, as you were… different. From a different world, different gender, different worldview, without magic, without home. Even when you did everything you could to be just one of the students here, it sometimes hit you how you had to think of your words and actions to be just one of the students.

Sometimes you just want to let go and just be, live, but it often turned to thoughts of submission, of letting someone else control you, and unfortunately it often included Mozus Trein. You were both screaming internally and thinking if the professor would treat you like a cat, like a kitten, pet you and play with you, and let you rest your head on his lap. Blushing, cheeks red as can be, you had to get up and go get ready for bed. Maybe a book might get your thoughts somewhere else, but the stack of books next to your bed just reminded more of Mozus, as they were all gifts from him. Well, there was one small one from Vargas about the history of spelldrive, so that should do it for the evening.

Mozus was a man troubled by many things, and leaving you alone for the night was definitely bothering him. You deserved protection, and a run-down house like Ramshackle Dorm was not it, not when all you had to protect you there were a few ghosts and a cat. While those were his main thoughts, he knew they were only there to hide his true thoughts and wishes. No one should touch you, no one should be able to have you. Even when he wanted to think of you only as a daughter, it was difficult, because you were not like a daughter, but something more. Mozus didn’t even know if you wanted to be his daughter, even if you had accepted him as a sort of guardian or guide in this world. He wanted more, yet was afraid to ask, fearing it would break the trust you had given him. So the only right thing to do was keep you safe, even if you couldn’t appreciate it now.

---------

I was thinking about this cat.

#mozus trein x reader #twisted wonderland #disney's twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst mozus #mozus trein

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saatorubby · 2 years

Text

NRC Staff

Divus Crewel

1) Sick Day: you got sick but luckily you have your professor (almost dad) to your rescue.

2) family: you have a baking day with your professor-turned-dad.

3) better than ever: reader takes malleus and papa crewel for a vacation in their world, but bumping into their biological family is never fun.

4) divus crewel with Jake Peralta like mc

Dire Crowley

None yet

Ashton Vargas

None yet

Mozus trein

None yet

Sam

None yet

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thenumberonesimp · 1 year

Text

Request list

R=(Romantic)

P=(Platonic)

Twisted Wonderland:

Riddle Rosehearts(R, P)

Trey Clover(R, P)

Cater Diamond(R, P)

Ace Trappola(R, P)

Deuce Spade(R, P)

Leona Kingscholar(R, P)

Ruggie Bucchi(R, P)

Jack Howl(R, P)

Azul Ashengrotto(R, P)

Jade Leech(R, P)

Floyd Leech(R, P)

Kalim Al-Asim(R, P)

Jamil Viper(R, P)

Vil Schoenheit(R, P)

Rook Hunt(R, P)

Epel Felmier(R, P)

Idia Shroud(R, P)

Malleus Draconia(R, P)

Lilia Vanrouge(R, P)

Silver(R, P)

Sebek Zigvolt(R, P)

Dire Crowley(R, P)

Divus Crewel(R, P)

Mozus Trein(R, P)

Ashton Vargas(R, P)

Sam(R, P)

Ambrose(R, P)

Che'nya(R, P)

Neige LeBlanche(P)

Ortho Shroud(P)

Grim(P)

One Piece:

Monkey D. Luffy(R, P)

Roronoa Zoro(R, P)

Vinsmoke Sanji(R, P)

Usopp(R, P)

Nami(R, P)

Nico Robin(R, P)

Brook(R, P)

Jinbei(R, P)

Franky(R, P)

Portagas D. Ace(R, P)

Marco(R, P)

Sabo(R, P)

Trafalgar D. Water Law(R, P)

Shanks(R, P)

Benn Beckman(R, P)

Rob Lucci(R, P)

Kalifa(R, P)

Boa Hancock(R, P)

Silvers Rayleigh(R, P)

Kuro(R, P)

Jango(R, P)

Wyper(R, P)

Gan Fall(R, P)

Yamato(R, P)

Dracule Mihawk(R, P)

Eustass Kidd(R, P)

Killer(R, P)

Buggy(R, P)

Crocodile(R, P)

Corazon(R, P)

Caesar Clown(R, P)

Monet(R, P)

Smoker(R, P)

Hina(R, P)

Vinsmoke Reiju(R, P)

Madam Shyarly(R, P)

King(R, P)

Gol D. Roger(R, P)

Cavendish(R, P)

Kiku(R, P)

Izou(R, P)

Charlotte Katakuri(R, P)

Charlotte Smoothie(R, P)

Charlotte Amande(R, P)

Charlotte Cinnamon(R, P)

Chopper(P)

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton(R, P)

Benedict Bridgerton(R, P)

Edwina Sharma(R, P)

Kate Sharma(R, P)

Prince Friedrich(R, P)

Simon Bassett(R, P)

King George III(R, P)

Demon Slayer:

Muzan Kibutsuji(R, P)

Enmu(R, P)

Kokushibo(R, P)

Akaza(R, P)

Hantengu(R, P)

Gyokko(R, P)

Nakime(R, P)

Gyomei Himejima(R, P)

Obanai Iguro(R, P)

Mitsuri Kanroji(R, P)

Sanemi Shinazugawa(R, P)

Shinobu Kocho(R, P)

Kyojuro Rengoku(R, P)

Giyuu Tomioka(R, P)

Tengen Uzui(R, P)

Suma Uzui(R, P)

Makio Uzui(R, P)

Hinatsuru Uzui(R, P)

Yoriichi Tsugikuni(R, P)

Kagaya Ubuyashiki(R, P)

The Sandman:

Dream(R, P)

Desire(R, P)

Death(R, P)

The Corinthian(R, P)

Lucienne(R, P)

Things I won't do:

If there is both a romantic and platonic option, I won't do familial relationships between that character and the reader.

NSFW

Yandere

Character×oc

Character×character

Teacher×student

Suicide/self harm

Noncon/dubcon

Abusive relationships

Things I will do:

Polyamorous relationships

Hurt/comfort

Angst

Fluff

Pretty much anything that's not on my won't do list

There is no character limit

I do not allow reposts or translations of my work

#twisted wonderland #the sandman #bridgerton #×reader #one piece #demon slayer

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honey-milk-depresso · 2 years

Note

Okay so we love an grandpa Trein? So can you do a Child! Reader meeting Trein's daughter and is happy to see there new member of family? Pretty please?

AYEEEDHDJDGHGDH- I assume they're grown up cuz- Damn this dude is old- so yeah-

I'm giving them names: Ana and Drusilla

⋙l o a d i n g…

loading completed!✓ …━━━━━☆

┏ ⋙HOME (CONTINUATION) - MOZUS TREIN X CHILD! READER (PLATONIC)┛

⋙HOME (1)

♧…━━━━━☆

"Papa?" A young woman with black hair called out to her father as she heard the familiar footsteps of her father who has finally reached home.

"Yes, Drusilla. I'm home." Trein announced. Lucius walked along side you, purring softly as he rubbed his fluffy face on you, making you giggle slightly.

"Ana! Father's home!"

"Alright, alright," and soon a woman, a tad younger than Drusilla made their way to see their aging father.

Lucius kept rubbing his face on your cheek, for once the usual grumpy face of the cat seemed like he was smiling. He was never a mean cat to begin with anyways.

You giggled a little louder, causing the two women to look at you, a little baffled.

"Papa... who's this?" Drusilla asked softly as she crouched down to your height, smiling softly as you realized all attention was on you, making you shy away and hide behind the bushy tail of Lucius.

"Ah.. this is Y/N. They're.... not from here," Trein simply states.

Truthfully, Trein was a bit worried of how his two daughters might react. Having another addition to the family after his wife passed away to him was... well.

But... ah, he doesn't know anymore.

Drusilla, who smiles cordially at you, tilted her head slightly. You peered back, Lucius swishes his tail away slightly so you could see the older sister.

"Your name is Y/N? What a lovely name!" she grins. Your cheeks bloomed a dark shade of red at her words, earning Drusilla a shy whisper of a "thank you" from you.

"Papa, I don't want to sound rude but... why did you bring back a child?" Ana leaned over and whispered. "Due to complications, I've decided to raise them as our own."

The two sisters blinked. Mozus sucked in the cold air.

Oh boy...

"You mean they're gonna be our new sibling? Oh how lovely!~" Drusilla coos, which made you blush even more.

Ana looked towards you, to which you cower slightly behind Lucius once more. She sighs.

"Well, I don't mind being an older sister for once," she shrugs, Drusilla smirks teasingly at her younger sister.

"I know you always wanted a younger sibling, Ana~ Admit it, you're overjoyed."

"A-am not! I'm happy, but I'm not EXCITED or anything like that just happy!"

"Don't listen to her, Y/N, she just wants to look mature."

"HEY!"

As the three of you talked and rambled and giggled (mostly Drusilla giggling at Ana-), Mozus watched from the sidelines, as Lucius walked over to him and rubbed against his leg, causing the father of now three to chuckle quietly.

"Thank the sevens, I know. Thank the sevens."

Reblogs help! ^^

531 notes · View notes

idiacide · 2 years

Text

Masterlist

(banner credits except for the faculty one go to @mamikejima on twitter, used with permission)

Rules

Buy me dinner first why don't you 😳😳😳

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

💖Crush behavior pt. 1

💖Opposite personality s/o

💖Singer s/o

💖Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

💖Family doesn’t approve of s/o

💖Core vulnerabilities

💖S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

💖Attachment style

💖Attachment style explanation

Trey Clover

♣Crush behavior pt. 1

♣Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

♣ Core vulnerabilities

♣ Attachment style

♣ Attachment style explanation

Cater Diamond

🔶Crush behavior pt. 1

🔶Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

🔶 Core vulnerabilities

🔶 Attachment style

🔶 Attachment style explanation

Ace Trappola

💗Crush behavior pt. 1

💗Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

💗Obsessive reader

💗First kiss

💗 Core vulnerabilities

💗 Attachment style

💗 Attachment style explanation

Deuce Spade

♠Crush behavior pt. 1

♠Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

♠Obsessive reader

♠First kiss

♠ Core vulnerabilities

♠ Attachment style

♠ Attachment style explanation

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

🦁 Crush behavior pt. 1

🦁 Singer s/o

🦁Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

🦁Obsessive reader

🦁 Core vulnerabilities

🦁 S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

🦁 Attachment style

Ruggie Bucchi

😈Crush behavior pt. 1

😈Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

😈 Core vulnerabilities

😈 Attachment style

😈 Attachment style explanation

Jack Howl

🐺Crush behavior pt. 1

🐺Cutesy petnames

🐺Gushy s/o flustered by PDA

🐺 Core vulnerabilities

🐺 Attachment style

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙Crush behavior pt. 1

🐙Cutesy petnames

🐙Opposite personality s/o

🐙Singer s/o

🐙 Core vulnerabilities

🐙 S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

🐙 Attachment style

Jade Leech

🦑Crush behavior pt. 1

🦑 Neurodivergency headcanons

🦑 Core vulnerabilities

🦑 Attachment style

Floyd Leech

🦈Crush behavior pt. 1

🦈Family doesn’t approve of s/o

🦈Neurodivergency headcanons

🦈 Core vulnerabilities

🦈 Attachment style

🦈 Attachment style explanation

🦈Floyd Analysis Essay

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

🐞Crush behavior pt. 2

🐞Singer s/o

🐞Family doesn’t approve of s/o

🐞Core vulnerability

🐞 S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

🐞 Attachment style

Jamil Viper

🐍Crush behavior pt. 2

🐍Neurodivergency headcanons

🐍 Core vulnerabilities

🐍 Attachment style

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

👑Multilingual s/o

👑Crush behavior pt. 2

👑Singer s/o

👑Voice changing potion gone wrong

👑Neurodivergency headcanons

👑 Core vulnerabilities

👑 S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

👑 Attachment style

👑 Attachment style explanation

Rook Hunt

🏹Multilingual s/o

🏹Crush behavior pt. 2

🏹Voice changing potion gone wrong

🏹 Core vulnerabilities

🏹 Attachment style

Epel Felmier

🍎Crush behavior pt. 2

🍎 Core vulnerabilities

🍎 Attachment style

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

💀Multilingual s/o

💀Cutesy petnames

💀Opposite personality s/o

💀Singer s/o

💀Voice changing potion gone wrong

💀Crush behavior pt. 3

💀Obsessive reader

💀Family doesn’t approve of s/o

💀Neurodivergency headcanons

💀 Core vulnerabilities

💀 S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

💀 Attachment style

Ortho Shroud

🤖 Core vulnerabilities

🤖 Attachment style

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

🐉Multilingual s/o

🐉Singer s/o

🐉Voice changing potion gone wrong

🐉Crush behavior pt. 3

🐉 Core vulnerabilities

🐉 S/o gets sick trying to lose weight

🐉 Attachment style

Silver

⚔ Crush behavior pt. 3

⚔ Core vulnerabilities

⚔ Attachment style

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇Crush behavior pt. 3

🦇 Attachment style

🦇 Core vulnerabilities

Sebek Zigvolt

⚡Crush behavior pt. 3

⚡ Core vulnerabilities

⚡ Attachment style

Faculty

Dire Crowley

🎭Asking out on a first date

🎭Assistant reader

Divus Crewel

🐶Voice changing potion gone wrong

🐶Assistant reader

Mozus Trein

🐈Assistant reader

Ashton Vargas

🍳Assistant reader

Sam

#masterlist #announcement

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luxthestrange · 1 year

Text

Cakes Faculty has given to Yuu Part 13

Dire Crowley:

...This was a bigger betrayal than with Scar and Mufasa-

Divus Crewel:

Being his Favorite "Puppy" while also plainly saying he doesn't like the group you hand with-

Mozus Trein:

Grandpa Trein Already Taking you to therapy...get in the car,Cat therapy will also be apart of the healing-

Ashton Vargas:

Yk when he said "Fuck Boys" he meant "dont date the boys in NRC"...Well Uncle Vargas won't be easy to bribe so easily

Sam:

...He will give you discount afterwards-

Part 13 of:

#disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst faculty #ramshackle family #dire crowley #deadbeat dad crowley #but still a dad #divus crewel x reader #divus crewel x yuu #divus crewel #twst mozus trein #mozus trein #ashton vargas #uncle vargas #twst sam #twst cake series

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deceitful-darlings · 3 years

Note

Could you write for Mozus Trein being a platonic yandere towards Yuu/MC/Reader? I keep thinking of him being rather lonely but won’t admit it. Since his based on lady Tremaine who is a widow and has two children who probably are incompetent if they exists in twisted wonderland.

What could be said about Mozus Trein?

He was a respectable professor at one of the most prestigious colleges in Twisted Wonderland. He was upstanding, drove for the best results, and in his own eyes had a firm but fair attitude. But he knew that those things weren’t what he was recognised for.

No, he wasn’t respected. He was NCR’s feared Professor Trein, without Crewel’s attractiveness, Sam’s charisma, or Vargas’ strength, he was just the old, bitter and jaded Magic History Professor. There are times when Mozus looks back on his life, more behind than ahead of him at this point, and wonders what happened. He had been happily married at one point, fresh faced and looking forward to what life had in store for the two of them, he hadn’t expected that happiness to be so brief. After being together for only three years he lost his beloved wife to childbirth, leaving him alone and grieving with two children to raise on his own.

As a now single parent, Mozus had done everything he could for the sake of his children, he wasn’t anything special so he worked hard to make sure they didn’t do without, but in providing for them financially with longer hours at work which meant he wasn’t there for them. He’d been so focused or providing that he hadn’t seen the types of person either became.

His eldest became a child consumed by their anger. They resented not having a mother, that he wasn’t present at home, that conversations with him were always had in passing as he had something else to take care of, they view him as a terrible and uncaring parent, mistaking the wrinkle in his forehead as anger at their lack of achieving rather than concern. They blamed the world for everything in such an aggressive manner, to the point where they even destroyed items in their home when they realised they couldn’t use magic. It didn’t matter how much he tried to speak to them through the door, it remained locked. They’d wanted to become stronger than he was to prove how they didn’t need him, and it’s only at this point does he realise that so many years have passed and that he doesn’t know who his children are. He wants to put that right, but it’s already too late.

His younger, although slightly more open to having a more normal parent child relationship was still so used to their father not being there that they don’t know how to interact with him, misunderstanding his emotions often when he’s just awkward with them. Just like their sibling they are without magic, but they don’t seem to care, they want to help people so magic isn’t necessary! Their kindness is commendable when compared to their sibling, but with them running away from his worried stare as fast as they can, he’s unable to remind them that people in this world shouldn’t always be treated with the unconditional trust they give everyone.

He tried after that to become closer to them, but his efforts are too little too late. His eldest hated him for his absence, his youngest tolerated him out of fear of what he might do. Those were the relationships he had built with his children, and it breaks his heart to see how they’ve turned out. When they finally leave home a few years later, his eldest didn’t even say goodbye, and the hug his youngest gave him would be some of the last contact he remembered them truly happy in.

He hadn’t heard from his eldest in years, to this day he doesn’t know if they’re alive or the life they’ve made for themselves, his youngest had gotten married far too young, and started a family when they were barely in their twenties. He wasn’t suprised that the marriage fell apart in the end, but rather than come home to a father that would’ve comforted them, they immediately fell into the arms of another. So desperate for love that it didn’t matter who it came from, they don’t visit him and simply send his seasonal cards with short letters updating him on their ‘happy’ life and the life of the grandchild he’s never met.

Although the relationships between them were awkward, he wished they had stayed at home just a bit longer, not only to get the beginnings of a stable life sorted for themselves, and so that they could’ve tried to salvage their relationships. But as he had learned, people’s impressions were difficult to change, and to them he was such a bad father that he was only worth anger, and that he was less trustworthy than the next lover they might find. All the effort he had put into giving them money for their childhoods to give them good lives had been for naught.

It feels like the first major failure in his life, and it sticks with him. He becomes sterner with students because of it, in hopes of not failing his students as he did his own children, but all that does is solidify his reputation for being an old, mean, strict teacher who doesn’t allow fun.

He thinks that this is something that’s always going to stay with him, but then they appear. The child from another world, unable to return to their own. You are so cluelsss, completely defenceless in this twisted place, and horrendously unprepared. There’s a squeeze in his chest when he looks at you as he’s reminded of the naïveté of his youngest, and he knows he has to help you.

He takes it upon himself to be your guardian, and he noted down every little detail of your life at the moment and how he can help improve it. Your accomidation in Ramshackle is laughable, he can help you fix the place if you want, but how about moving in with him? He misses the sounds of having the kids bustling about upstairs, but if not it’s ok, he can still come to your dorm to check on you. Your grades are abysmal, which isn’t a suprise considering you’ve never even heard of half the topics, but he is a patient man with those who try, he will take as long as it needs in time after school to help bring you up to the level everyone else is at, and to even help you into the top 5 students in classes.

But the hardest thing for him to accept is the idea of a relationship with any of the other students, he’s taught at NCR so long he’s well aware that the majority of the student body are bad news. They’re immature, uncontrollable and violent, and he doesn’t want you influenced by their terrible behaviour, or worse, hurt by them emotionally. He just about tolerates you having friends, but then moment he sees any form of physical contact his glare can be felt from across the room, and any student that catches his eye will have classes that can only be compared to hell with how he constantly calls on them for their understanding of what he’s been teaching, glaring down his nose at them whether they get the answer right or wrong. The students figure out pretty quickly that spending time with you pisses him off more than anything, and if there’s one thing that most of the can agree on it’s that Professor Trein isn’t a man you want to get on the wrong side of, he’s scary enough when he’s not focusing his attention on them as a singular person, so most choose to keep their distance.

He’ll be very clear with you about how he isn’t fond of your friends and share stories of some of the questionable things that each student had done on campus, and will very clearly tell you that you shouldn’t be considering going any further than being friends with any of them, you’re far too young for any of that anyway and it would be better for you to focus on your studies. Don’t worry, he’s here to help with that. After all, he’s been given a second chance to help where he failed his own, it can’t make up for his mistakes with them but at least he can save another child the way he couldn’t his own, and by god is he going to make sure they’re ok, he’s not letting this chance go.

#yandere #yandere male #mozus trein #platonic yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #sfw

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the-crows-typist · 3 years

Text

Time for the 3rd installment of our Valentine’s Event with none other than, Vil Schoenheit and the word: Kiss requested by @twstdaydreamer This was very fun to write and I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I did.

CW: Alternate Universe: Cinderella and The Beast, OOC, Dark past, and discussion of the death of a loved one.

This ficlet features characters singing certain songs so links will be provided for added experience.

While some lyrics are gendered, the reader still remains gender-neutral.

Word count: 7843

Other works: Chocolate Feat. Jade, Cards Feat. Floyd

A Heart from Me to You

There once was a house as beautiful as those who lived in it. Its Lord and Lady produced a beautiful heir who, at a young age, strived for beauty unequaled to anyone in the mortal plane but at the price of the beauty of his own heart. One day, an old woman with a face aged approached the manor to seek shelter from the blistering snow…Only to be turned away with looks of disgust. This angered the lady, removing her form to reveal herself as a powerful goddess who cursed all who lived in that house with an enchanted rose.

This selfishness was what brought upon the family’s curse that when night fell should the family follow. The beautiful boy suffered from the curse the most, in his transformation did he end up killing those loved.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

“How tragic.” You whisper, sitting by the fire with a book on your lap. You enjoyed break times by the fire and being able to read by your lonesome especially when the winters became bitter in Pyroxene. You closed the book just as the head maid came in.

“Oh look at you, you’ve got cinder marks in your uniform. Come here. You must be careful, dear. The cinder marks are harder to wash off than you think.” She said and wiping the still fresh marks off your sleeves. “It was getting cold,” You explained. “But I’ll be careful next time, I promise.”

“Please and thank you.” She smiled at you the way a mother would to her child. “Come along, Vil will be coming home soon. We should go ahead and greet him.” You follow her towards the door just as you thought about Vil. His father was a famous actor that traveled but it wasn’t often that the two of them were in the same house at the same time.

“Welcome back, Vil.” Said the maid and you, bowing your head. “How was the trip?

Vil Schoenheit stood before you, his winter coat shining with fresh snowflakes and noise a sore red. “It went as it should. May I ask for some hot tea with honey?” You could hear the pulled-back shiver in his voice. “Bring it to me in the bath.” His footsteps were quick even in those high-heeled shoes.

“Can I leave it to you?” The head maid asked. “I still need to finish cooking dinner.”

You nod your head and smoothing out your uniform, ready to take on another task as well as the scrutinizing eye of one Vil Schoenheit.

Three knocks on the door and Vil halted in his actions. “Come in.” You opened the door, pushing the tray carrying tea and small biscuits carefully into the warm room. Vil had already exited the tub and dressed in a robe. Just as you had been taught, you poured a cup of tea mixed with honey and presented it to him.

“Thank you.”

Vil was a beautiful being, he really was. The way his body was sculpted and toned made you think he was carved out of fine marble by the finest artisans. His gaze towards you made you realized you were staring too long. “I-I’ll be on my way, Mister Vil. Please enjoy the night.”

“You’re the new one here, aren’t you?”

Vil set down the cup and stood up, the robe seemed to act like a flowing dress that flowed at the floor as he drew closer and closer to you. “I believe you’re the one whose mother passed last autumn.” You nodded your head with a sigh, remembering the stressful days after your mother was laid to rest.

Times were hard for you and your family, after the sudden passing of your mother, all of you had to make ends meet whenever and wherever possible. Your step-father, Mozus Trein, got a position as a professor in a known school while your step-brothers, Angelo and Donovan, set for the Rose Kingdom.

Angelo became a baker’s apprentice while Donovan became a tailor for an apparel shop. You stayed behind in Pyroxene, snagging yourself as a position as part of the staff of the well-known Schoenheit family. While the pay was good, appearances needed to be kept at all times thus why the head maid was often uppity with you especially on your first days.

“Yes.”

“I offer my condolences to you and your family.”

“Thank you…” You say and you look down at your shoes, your chest feeling heavy and empty at the same time. “But the tears have already been shed. All I want to do now is take care of my father and help my brothers.”

There was a smile on his face and he reached over, patting your shoulder with a damp hand. Up close he smelled of clean soap with a hint of citrus. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable. That’s what I want in the people who work here.” He pats your shoulder again with eyes of judgment. “But these marks on your uniform…”

Ah, crap.

“I stay by the fire during my break times.” You admit quickly and Vil only shakes his head. “It would do you good to stay further away. These cinder marks are unsightly.”

“I will keep that in mind, sir.”

He pulled back his arms and turned around as you were about to take your leave. “By the way, I would like to reiterate something while you’re here because I know the other staff will neglect to tell you this one important detail.”

The mirror before him reflected his serious expression, you gulped feeling as if you broke a rule. “When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

“What’s so special about the second floor?”

All of you ate on a table, the head maid serving up some warm cream stew. “Ah, that.” You gave your bowl to ask for seconds and she much obliged you. The old lady smiled to herself. “Nighttime is the only time Vil can rest,” She explained. “He’s quite the light sleeper so even the softest of sounds will wake him up.”

The look in her eyes was distant and smile knowing as she handed the bowl back to you. “Do you need anything else? We still have some sweet corn and roasted chicken,” she asked, pushing some more food for you to take. You sip at the hot morsel of food after shaking your head. “No, I’m fine.”

The howling winter winds that rattled your window was something you could never shut out of your mind. For as long as you could remember, you had always sought refuge in the beds of your family whether it be your annoyed yet caring brothers or the understanding tiredness of your parents.

Your mother was the best at calming you, though. She always knew exactly what to do…She was your first teacher, your first friend, your primary protector after the split and she became all the more lively after meeting Mozus, your step-father. And while life adjusted itself perfectly for you and your new family, it didn’t hesitate to strike tragedy at the calmest of times.

Your mother, after all the years she had been fighting and keeping her sickness at bay, succumbed one day in front of your step-father. Even with all the magic remedies and medicines in the world to keep her alive, there was no reversing what had already been done.

“I love you.” She said on her death bed, Trein’s hand never leaving his wife’s. “I love all of you very much. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”

You and your brothers dealt with the grief differently, all three of them going off to their little corners for days and never showing their faces to you. It was days after the funeral when you saw your father cry, holding a picture of your mother close to his chest.

Since then, you and your brothers always needed to remind each other that they needed to be strong for their father’s sake. Angelo and Donovan spared no time in snatching every opportunity that they could while you stayed behind.

Vil’s words to you repeated like a record in your head, reminding you of how he viewed you. “You have a strong foundation to keep yourself stable.” The winds rattled and you brought your knees to your chest. Was your resolve, your foundation as strong as Vil saw??

Cutlery colliding against each other broke you out of your thoughts and startling you back to reality. Slipping out of bed and into your shoes, you made your way into the kitchen with your hands holding your coat tightly for warmth. The plates clattered amongst themselves and you hear the tap opening and closing.

You listen in the dark, waiting for the next noises. The footsteps were erratic and almost cobbled, the clicking of plates loud and sudden as if something was trying to walk. Had someone tried to break in? You hear the door to the living room open and shut and you poise yourself to follow but grabbing a nearby frying pan to defend yourself.

Opening the door, you hear the pair of footsteps climb up the stairs and you begin to panic. Vil’s room was up there! Whoever it was, was targeting Vil. Your movements hesitated, remembering the rule Vil himself told you.

“When the sun begins to set. Don’t go to the second floor.”

The dead of night had already come and everything around you was dark save for the lamps that provided little help in the snowstorm. You hesitated to move, weighing the options and their potential consequences. Should you stay and let Vil rest knowing a thief was roaming the halls or should you break the rules and protect him with all you had?

You bolted up the stairs without a second thought and the frying pan clutched tight, panting as you got to the top and looking wildly and trying to listen for the familiar intermittent footsteps. You turn to your side with you hear another door opening and closing and suddenly all the lessons you’ve learned grappling with your stepbrothers come back to you in a flash.

You inch towards the room in the door, turning the knob to open the door with a soft creek that makes your insides cringe. In the middle of the room was a floating flower protected by a glass dome, it was red-pink petals shimmering and lightings its vicinity in the same color.

It was mesmerizing to look at.

Setting the pan down to your side, you walked towards it with your hand stretching out to touch the dome that protected it. You dropped the pan entirely to take the dome off the rose, its glow, even more, hypnotizing up close. Just as your finger touched its soft petals, the window to your side blew open in a torrent of cold wind and unfurling the curtains that moved like the waves of a dark sea.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

From the darkness within the room, a pair of purple orbs glowed and a growl preceded a warning voice. The intermittent footsteps of a convulsing mannequin were not far off and its happy face brought a lick of terror to your heart.

The creature of the night crawled forwards, its sharp teeth jutting out of its mouth and form menacing and mangled. The windows were soon closed and the curtains dropped to the ground with your foot stepping on the soft fabric.

“Give me the dome.” The monster’s long claws reached out for you and before you stepped back, you slipped; hitting your head on the soft material behind you, the howling winds and the piercing orbs fading to black.

“…I told you not to come in here.”

You stood by the door of your step-father’s study with eyes facing the floor. Angelo and Donovan standing on either side of you. The yellow light gave off a sleepy and exhausted feeling in the realm of books and writing materials. In the very center was a diorama of your family, toys he wanted to surprise the kids with.

And now, the surprise was ruined.

You could feel shame boil in you, it had been only a few months since your mother remarried and you had new brothers to play with…And now your new dad was upset with you. “Come here.” He said, the man suddenly on one knee, your brothers coming over to him in a hug and you followed soon after.

“All of you, such curious little mice.” He said, patting each one of you on the back. “Next time, I want you to ask for permission before you enter the study, alright?” There was a laugh behind you, your mother smiling to herself while she leaned against the doorframe with a blanket over her shoulders. She never got used to the cold she was born in.

“Promise me that.”

“Yes, daddy.” All the children say.

And as you relished the warmth of your new father, something wet trickled down your cheek. Your brother, Angelo, was always the sensitive one of your step-siblings and would not hesitate to stop the sibling tomfoolery the moment things go awry. He held you close, his tears accidentally running down your cheek when you moved, while Donovan sat in the corner with shoulders hunched over. What was once your father’s sleepy study was now the empty hallway of a hospital.

The wind rattled against the windows of the hospital, your mother had succumbed to the sickness on a cold day. And your father was getting everything ready for the eventual end.

“Kids.”

Trein came out of the room, looking older than you remembered. “Your mother would like to talk to you.”

When you turned away from your brother’s embrace, you were seated on the side of your mother’s bed. Her body was sickly and the cold messed with what life remained in her. She smiled at all of you and your eyes began to sting.

“I love you.” She says, her eyes looking so tired. “I love you all very much.” And soon the tears began to fall from her face. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.” You blinked at the hand you held, your mother’s hand soon replaced with Donovan’s as he pulled you from your seat. In his suit, he looked more solemn and his usually long and wild hair was tied back with a ribbon.

“Let’s say goodbye.” He told you and tugged you to the coffin where your mother laid. “Where’s dad?” You turned your head, your hand now vacant and the space behind you a void of nothingness. The door of your father’s study slightly ajar and the familiar yellow light spilling through.

Your steps were echoed and slow, approaching the room slowly. When you were by the door, you peaked through the cracks; your father kneeling on the carpet and holding a figure to his chest. The diorama you once played with in your youth was set up on his table, your mother’s figurine nowhere in sight. There was a held back sob, Trein’s body shaking under his mourning robes.

You took a step back, letting him grieve in his own time.

You knew better than to come in there without permission.

You woke up with a start and a sudden sting to the back of your head. Above you was a chandelier you had no memory of seeing in your quarters and a bed your hands never recognized. Your chest heaved when you pushed yourself up the bed only to be pushed down by the head maid.

“Stay down.” She says, holding your shoulders. The light of the new day filtered through the large window of Vil’s room. Vil stood by the rose with his back facing you, holding the dome to himself just as your breathing leveled and normalized. “You hit your head pretty bad last night,” She explained and felt for the bump that made you hiss.

Last night…

“Was last night real?” You asked, your sudden burst of energy was off-putting especially when you remembered the events leading to the memories you wished to never relish again. “That rose. Was it really glowing? A-and that monster—!”

The dome was placed onto the rose with a loud clack, the glass roughly hitting the marble surface. “T-that’s beside the point!” The maid scolded. “Vil warned you never go to the second floor after the sunsets! Not only did you disobey one of the rules given to you, you hit your head while doing so.”

You bit back a hiss of guilt and opened your mouth to try to retort at your apparent rebellion.

“Elena.”

Vil’s voice was soft yet strict, eyes calm yet sharp. He regarded you for a moment while leaning against the marble table. “Let them be for the day, they’ve hit their head too hard.” You felt yourself shrink under his gaze. “See to it that they have little heavy activities as possible and prioritize that the bump is given care immediately.”

Elena bowed her head, her upset anger still very much apparent.

“Yes, sir.”

Elena’s nimble hands making quick work of dirty dishes. Your head had been bandaged with a compress pressed to where you hit your head. You stared at your meal with little appetite before poking at the grilled fish. “Miss Elena, why does that rose glow?”

The clattering of cutlery stopped and the head maid only sighed, shaking his head. “Always the curious one, aren’t you?” She turned around, leaning against the sink with arms crossed. “That’s one of Vil’s most treasured possessions. An heirloom that came directly from his grandfather then to his father then to him.”

Elena’s eyes looked to the side as if to remember. “I should know. I was there for every passing down. Vil is highly protective of it.”

It might have just been a coincidence, you thought to yourself, that the story you read by the fire had mentioned a rose but that was all there was to it. You ate your breakfast quicker after that. “I’m sorry for my behavior.”

“Next time, listen to your instructions.” She said, taking the plates from you before you could even move an inch to help her.

The feather duster slid against the books, your toes tipping to reach up for the shelves above your head. From there, you took your damp rag and swiped it across the polished wooden table. Yup, this was pretty much not so labor-intensive but it would get painfully boring unless you had some entertainment to go with you so you sang a small song taught to you in your youth.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep.” Your mother loved to sing this song to you and soon, to your new family. Trein especially loved it when they danced together in the living room when the children were ‘seemingly’ asleep. “In dreams, you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep.” You closed your eyes, feeling the memories of the past come with the melody of your song. You remember the first time you snuck out of bed with your brothers to see your parents slow dancing together. “Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.”

You’ve never seen your mother smile so peacefully nor did you ever see her hug someone so intimately before Trein, in fact, you’ve never seen her do any of those things with your old dad. She was happy. “No matter how your heart is grieving...”

You only wished to see that happiness last longer than it should have. If only things stayed the way they did. “If you keep on believing…”

You envisioned your mother holding you close, singing to you one last time. Just like how she did when could still hold you to your chest. Just one last time…

“The dream that you wish…will come true.”

Sighing, you leaned against your broom saddened by what you made yourself remember. “Oh, I’ll never get my work done at this rate.” You say, taking your equipment with you and almost running out the library with a huff. Next to the fireplace, Vil lay on one of the long couches away from sight. It was only when you went out that he rose from his seat and hunched forward to let his hair cover his face.

He stayed silent, relishing the sound of your voice in his head.

During your break time, you decided to stay outside with a group of mice that decided to keep you company. You never understood why but the small animals around your area always seemed to be kind and almost human-like. When one mouse decided to sit by you while nibbling a small piece of leftover cookies did you begin to speak your thoughts.

“Is there something being hidden from me? Or am I being too nosey?”

One mouse approached you, listening to you at your feet. “I know last night wasn’t a dream, I know what I saw.” You say then feeling for the bump on his head. “It was real, I just know it.” There was a small squeak, one of the female mice touched your hand with her small paw as if to say words of reminder.

‘You’re stressing yourself out.’

Grimacing, you pushed yourself up and patting your uniform off the crumbs and dust. “I know.” You tell them and the mice look up to you in curiosity and concern in their beady little eyes. “I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’m a strong mouse just like you! I’m sure I can get to the bottom of this, I just…Need to find a better opportunity.”

The mice squeak in affirmation which makes you giggle. “Ahah, I’ll have to figure it out as I go along.” You tell them and look to the house, knowing that you had to get back in quickly. “I should get going, I’ll come back with some good food tomorrow.” You wave at the mice who give sounds of greeting as you leave.

What you saw on the second floor was real. You know it is. And you were going to prove it. You stopped by one of the mirrors, fixing your appearance quickly. “Huh?” Your hand touches the surface, small cracks brushed by your tips as if someone had driven something sharp into it. Looking up at the sky, you smelled frost in the air. Strong winds would accompany the night again, it seems.

The accompanying snowstorm was as fitting as it ever gave you a feeling of stealth. You always wanted to be a kind of spy when you were younger and here you are living the dream, though some nice gear and some goggles would have helped greatly. The wind blows and rattles the windows harshly when you brought yourself up the stairs.

“Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends then somebody bends unexpectedly.”

You walk to the door you saw the beast. Placing a hand on the door to listen. “Just a little change. Small, to say the least. Both a little scared Neither one prepared. Beauty and The Beasy” Hesitantly, you open to turn the door to hear more of the beautiful voice. The room was dark and only the glowing rose giving light to the room around it.

“Ever just the same, ever a surprise,”

A mannequin hunches over a familiar huddle of fur and purple light. The movements of both almost unearthly yet the voice passionate and real…And so familiar. “Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise.”

The winds rattle harshly again and the beast bundles into a ball in Vil’s bed, the mannequin’s hands shakenly placing its hand on the shivering being. “Tale as old as time, tune as old as song. Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change; learning you were wrong.”

You open the door a little wider and watch the scene unfold. Somehow, it wasn’t your place to interfere at such a moment so vulnerable. “Certain as the sun rising in the east, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme. Beauty and the Beast ”

The shaking beast’s form calmed itself and the mannequin leaned down, its monotonous face pressing against the mass of fur. A kiss goodnight. The cold of the wind blew through, the mannequin looking at you with its painted eyes. The silence was light and your eyes never leaving each other. Taking a step back, you pulled the door with you until it was shut. Everything was finally coming together.

Vil was the beast.

Breakfast was quiet and the wraps on your head were taken off. Elena made no move or sound to acknowledge you as you ate. “So the beautiful boy cursed by the goddess.” You could hear her hand grip the wet plates tightly and you knew what was coming but, at this point, you didn’t care if you got scolded. “It was Vil, wasn’t it?”

“You were given specific instructions never to go up there at night.” She said sternly.

“It’s him, wasn’t it?” You press again.

“Why are you so pressed on this? What good will it do for you?”

“The mannequin was you, wasn’t it? You were singing to that beast.” Elena fuming, slammed her hand onto the table and that was what made you pull back. “Don’t call him that.” She says and sighs, pulling away from you and straightening her back. “The next time I see you on the second floor, you are out of this house. Do you understand me?”

She takes your empty plates and splashes them into the water. Her breath was harsh and her skin almost sickly looking. A cough leaves her lips and her shoulders shiver. “Would you like some tea?” You ask softly and her shoulders hunch over.

“Yes, dear. Please.”

Just as you took the teapot from the cabinet, she spoke to you again. “Please follow that rule this time. Don’t make this harder for Vil than it has to be.”

You open the kettle and reach for the leaves, hearing the old lady cough.

You were back in the library before the sun began to set and adding wood into the fire for warmth. The snowstorm hadn’t let up since the last night and you were afraid that your quarters was not enough to warm you through the night. Using the heating pair of tongs, you adjust the wood in a way that it would burn properly and not caring if the cinders would cling to your uniform.

During the coldest of nights, you and your mother would love to cuddle by the fire and sleep until the morning. It only became a festive event with the addition of your brothers and your father. She loved the heat, the sleeping feeling it gave her and she loved it the most when Trein held her close.

Your shoulders sag, that was probably the only time you’ve ever seen him at peace. After that…Shaking your head, you push those memories away. You had to be strong, you had to be for the sake of your family. Reaching up, you swat the tears from your face. Your tears had already been wept the day she was buried.

“Stay too close to the fire and your uniform will get singed.”

Vil stood behind the couch, a warm blanket over his shoulders and hair despite being messy made him look immaculate. “I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“You can sing, correct? And sing well.” Ah, you’re not sure if you could answer that one wholeheartedly. Gulping, you nod your head. “I can sing, yes, but well, not really—.” Vil’s huff was hard and eyebrows furrowed. “Do not hide what good you have. It will not grow unless you expose it.”

“O-of course.” You nod your head and Vil closes his eyes. You noticed bags, his skin slightly paled. “Are you here because of the storm, Vil?” Nodding his head, Vil sank down next to you with a sigh. “The windows become too loud at night…I don’t like the sound of it.”

“I understand. I’m not much a fan of it myself.”

“We’re veering off-topic.” He looks to you, “Can you sing for me? At least for a moment.” The windows rattle and he closes his eyes again. You move, patting your lap for him to rest on and he gives you a look. “My mother used to do this to me. It beats having to lay down on flat ground.”

He is hesitant at first but follows after a few minutes of pondering. He lays on your lap, getting himself comfortable and you adjust the blanket on top of him. “Any requests?”

“Anything that will help me sleep.”

The winds rattle and his shoulders hunch. “Alright.”

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale. Sing sweet nightingale high above me.”

Vil’s eyes open ever so slightly, his violet eyes staring in the fire. Any moment, he would transform into the beast of the night. A curse passed down from generation to the next and yet, you stayed to sing. “Sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale high above.”

Elena had not been feeling well recently, her old age and the blistering cold made for one bad fever that she needed rest for. And while Vil was understanding of that, the winds that rattled the windows never ceased to let him sleep.

“Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale.”

But that soon changed when he heard you sing in this very library. It reminded him of the soft coo of a dove and the warmth of a wool blanket. “Oh, sing sweet nightingale sing…” His eyes felt heavy and soon his body became weightless, he yearned for the days he could walk out in the sun without fear of the night that was to come.

He yearned for the day he would no longer be afraid…

He yearned deep within his heart.

“Sing sweet nightingale…”

A black beast laid in the place where Vil once was, its gnarly teeth the same purple as Vil’s eyes. Your hands brushed the black fur as the fire crackled and spat cinders from within. The beast, no, Vil’s body laying peacefully on your lap. You move, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and his body only moving to keep warm against you.

“High above me…”

The enchanted rose glowed dimly, its first petals beginning to fall to the countertop beneath it.

Your eyes open and the wood that once fueled the fire was reduced to ashes. Elena stood over you while Vil, in his human form, slept peacefully on your lap. The two of you shared glances and you immediately opened your mouth.

“I didn’t go upstairs this time.”

She knelt, adjusting the blanket over the sleeping boy’s long figure. You noticed how his body looked in this position, not too lanky and not too toned…but skin so pale from the days he never went out. Come to think of it, he never usually went out unless he needed to. And when he came back, he would stay in for long periods before taking his leave again.

Suddenly, you thought about his parents and wondering if they knew of his situation. Where were they? What happened to them??

Were they affected by the curse as well?

“I’ll bring the breakfast here,” Elena says. “You stay here and watch over Vil.”

Vil had no qualms about eating in the library, given that the fire was warm and the meal was hot. It helped after the bad snowstorm that passed the house for days. You noticed he had a small appetite and a big penchant for drinking lots of fluids. Well, he is a model so you don’t blame him for following the strict regimens.

“You have a nice voice,” Vil says, putting down his cup. “Thank you for last night. I hope that my beastly form wasn’t much of a problem to you.”

Shaking your head, you quickly swallow the stew you were eating. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I’m happy you think that but…About that form.” You feel Elena’s gaze on you and you force yourself to bite back a lingering question.

Vil himself was also silent. “If they’re going to stay here then they should know.” Elena’s shoulders relaxed but her expression remained unsure. “Vil, are you—.”

“I know a person with ulterior motives when I see it.” He looks over to you with a small smirk and boy does it match the messy hair and too droopy clothing. “What we have with us is nothing more than a curious little mouse.”

And you don’t whether that was an insult or a compliment but your squinting eyes only fueled his laughter, those shoulders of his bopping under the protective blanket. “Then what I saw…”

“Everything you saw was real, down to the very last petal of the rose.”

You knew it! You were right!! A smile graced your lips and you sat back against the chair you sat on. Vil took a sip and proceeded to ask more questions, some of which you didn’t have a direct answer to. “Now that you have all the information you need, what will you do with it?”

You looked down at your plate, mulling it over. “Nothing.” You answer. “You called me a curious mouse with no ulterior motive so I’ll do nothing with it.”

Vil hid his smile behind the cup of tea and Elena only sighed, a small burden lifting from her shoulders as the two of you spoke casually.

Vil was moved to the second floor, letting him rest on a real bed. You look around the room, seeing it with proper lighting for the first time. All the mirrors were covered in cloth, some cracked. The paintings that hung on the wall looked immaculate, beautifully painted…Except for one figure whose face was splashed with black. Your brows furrowed, trying to identify who this person was.

“I assume you still have more questions, little mouse.”

Vil sat up, motioning you forward to sit on the edge. “Who is he?” The family’s portrait hung as a centerpiece, you could identify a baby Vil, and his parents sitting across from each other…But that one person standing over them; you couldn’t make heads or tails of it with all the black paint in the way.

“My grandfather.”

A long sigh left Vil, his finger tucking a hair behind his ear. “Before my father went into acting, he was part of the family business led by my grandfather.” He closed his eyes, imagining the warm shop that housed many items and the many people coming in and out to buy supplies. A small Eric would clumsily put grocery items into a paper bag and wrap it, his father looming over him as he collected payments.

“He was strict when needed but his anger knew no bounds when it was released.” Vil slid down onto his bed. “Running a business is difficult, I understand that, but these fits were often quite scary to witness.” Staring into the rose’s glow, the light formed shadows of a figure hunching over a screaming beast. “It led him down a path of ruin, they went out of business and struggled during the bad brunt of the storm season.”

“He wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions, was he?” Vil shook his head at your question. “Not by a long shot. That was the very same anger that led to all this in the first place.” He looked up at the painting with contempt as if the painting stared back at him the same way. “Try as he may, my father could never outrun the curse…Even after I saw born.”

You remembered the book, the story you read by the fire. “Then…”

Vil’s hummed a laugh, eyes blinking slowly. The shadows formed by the glow of the rose moved to a scared family and a shaking figure holding a shadow of the rose. “He yelled at the wrong people, made enemies of those with magic far stronger than anyone could ever imagine.”

The shadows drew dimmer, the beastly form taking shape, roaring at the rose with all its fury and behind it was a weeping family. It all dissipated like a breaking film tape under Vil’s sigh.

Now, cursed and alone, the beautiful boy lived in a husk of his own home waiting the days for the earth to take him whole.

Your heart felt heavy, remembering the last line of the story. “I’m sorry.” That was all you could say to him but he hunched his shoulders with a dismissiveness. “What happened has passed. As you said before: the tears have already been shed.” The rose’s petals fall to the floor below it.

“Is there a way to reverse this?”

“An open heart.” he looked over to you with a smile unable to be read. “That’s all.”

You hung your head, unable to say anything. Vil only wraps his blanket around himself tighter while you stare at the glowing rose until its ethereal color was seared into your memory.

There was a splash of water, Vil sits in the tub with you preparing his robe and other items. “The snow should have receded by now. We could take a walk if you’d like.” As days passed through the house, you and Vil had grown closer. Now that either of you had nothing to hide, the tension that once felt between you was almost nonexistent.

“It has been a while since I’ve gone out. Some sunlight would do all of us good.” He said, leaning back on the tub with eyes closed. “A day in the sun…”

“Indeed. It would be nice to feel some warmth.” You learned that you and he weren’t very different. Both of you loved music, loved the theatre, just anything to dance to. And you also found out that Vil himself had a wonderful singing voice, almost like velvet.

“All those days in the sun, what I’d give to relive just one. Undo what’s done and bring back the light.”

You found out that his mother passed when he was young and his father, Eric, raised him all on his own after his mother was out of the picture. He was Vil’s first teacher, first friend, his support clutch in understanding why he was the way he was. “Days in the sun will return. We must believe—.”

“As lovers do…”

Your voices mingled together and while embarrassed to admit it, you had listened to it to his movies while cleaning. He may have caught you a few times, though. “That days in the sun…Will come shining…Through…” His deep beautiful voice echoed through the chamber, you imagined hearing it in a large theatre. Oh, you were certain Vil would love to do that.

“I always wondered why you never tried theatre.” You didn’t need to turn around to know his expression. “Do you think I’ll make it there, little mouse?”

“You’re Vil Schoenheit, son of Eric Venue. Of course, you will!”

A comfortable silence followed his laugh while you continued to face away from him. The Zen between you two almost unbreakable in the warm bathing room. The flower’s glow dimmed in the emptiness and losing more petals that piled beneath it.

With the music playing in the back, Vil watched from the balcony after getting his fair share of sunlight after the storm had passed. The voice of his father was rich and melodious as his role of a man finally falling in love after years of isolation.

He watched as you trudged around the snow before going back to his room, not once looking at the dimming rose and straight to his television. “I was the one who had it all,” His father sang. “I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.” The first time he had transformed into the beast he knew today, he had scared the recently hired help.

“I’ll never shake away the pain.” They were very cruel with their words, to the point that it was Elena, of all people, who told them to leave the house. Though the terror had left, it left Vil with uncertainty and fear of his appearance.

Eric’s character peered out the window just as the heroine pulls out a horse, the determination not hidden from even the viewer. “I close my eyes but she’s still there. I let her steal into my melancholy heart, it’s more than I can bear.” And now you took that place. From the get-go, Vil knew you have gone through hardships of your own. He could see it just by looking at your steeled expression and the aura you held on your shoulders.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even as she runs away.” Not only had you defied the rule twice, your curiosity only spurred you further on with your investigation. And even when you had all the information you needed and cracked the code, you did nothing with it. “She will torment me, calm me, hurt me, move me…Come what may.”

Vil stands up just as Eric’s character runs up the stairs, the spiraling staircase almost hypnotic from above. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.” He comes back to the balcony and opens the door, seeing you and Elena hauling in the bag of chestnuts. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in…” The two of you catch each other’s line of sight.

“And be with me for evermore.”

As the two of you smiled at each other, the rose begins to wilt and hunch over with each petal falling from the stem. The smell of spring drew close, Vil took a deep breath in then sighed it out. When he closes his eyes, all he ever sees are the days he’ll spend with you.

And the envisioning of a grand theatre, the same one he first saw his father in. He begins humming a small tune, thinking of the harmonizing violins, the beautiful costumes, and designs. The rose wilts more, only one petal remains on its dying stem.

The days had passed all so quickly, the winter giving its way to spring them to summer. You stood in front of the theatre, your family next to you. Trein takes you by the hand “Shall we?” entering the grand theatre, you and your sibling marveled at the beautifully crafted designs, the plush seating, and the long curtains.

“It’s beautiful.” Said your father, his smile soft. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

Angelo and Donovan pushed along, overly excited for the play. “Come on, come on.” One of them says. “It’s about to begin! Let’s sit down.”

The lights dim and the curtains open, droves of characters coming in their beautifully crafted costumes. You see Vil in his costume, waltzing with another character in yellow. The horns placed onto him were just as beautiful as him yet, after seeing his breast-like form…It never stood a chance.

The stage dimmed when he took the stage, a single rose in hand. His voice was loud, pure, perfect as he sang the song of a man who found love after years of isolation. His expression perfectly encapsulating the sadness he had felt.

“I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light.”

You remember the very first moment he bore his heart to you, the moment he asked you to sing for the very first time. “Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach, she’s never out of sight.” Gone were the days he hid within the confines of his room and gone were the days he needed to hide out of fear.

“Now I know she’ll never leave me even if she fades from view!”

He twirls, his eyes searching the crowd until he finds yours in the crowd. “She will still inspire me, be a part of everything I do.” The background behind him changes, the spiraling staircase he walks one moved at his every move until he reaches the balcony, leaning his hands to sing his heart out with a hopeful look. The both of you stare at each other as he sings his heart out, saying the words he wanted everyone to hear with a voice he no longer feared. “Wasting in my lonely tower, waiting by an open door.”

He breathes, the wind and strings instruments beginning their strong ascend in a crescendo of harmonizing and accenting melody. “I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in.”

The rose glows in his hand and he hunched his back, readying himself. “And as the long, long nights begin.”

Vil looks up into the light, his expression one of pure passion and love. “I’ll think of all that might have been.” And the grip on the rose tightens but only for a moment.

“Waiting here…For ever—.”

Vil lets the rose float out of his hand and ascends up to the center of the room.

“—More!” The flower burst into a rain of petals that add to his last note and accompaniment of the instruments.

The last petal of the glowing rose falls, the stem falling on a pile of dried rose petals following the applause of the crowd. Vil regains his breathing, his eyes listless as he stares up at the ceiling when the music ends, the curtains fall, and the lights go out.

You pass through the crowds of colors and thrills, looking for the familiar mop of blond and purple hair. “Vil!” You yell out to him just as he comes to view in the sea of people. His arms are ready to take it in, “You were amazing out there!”

The sun begins to set during the embrace, Vil’s face continued to smile at you and soon giving a solemn bow to your father and brothers. “Mr. Schoenheit, it’s a pleasure to meet you. That was a wonderful performance.” He says, smiling at him with eyes trained to your hands holding the actor’s. Ah, gets it.

“Thank you, Mr. Trein. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Vil Schoenheit, you’re needed for a picture.” Says one of the stage crew and Vil reluctantly pulls away. “Coming. I’ll see you later?” He asks you and you tip your toes to him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “I’ll wait outside. Bye Vil.”

You run out of backstage and yet he had a feeling that finding you won’t be that much of a problem. He touches his lips. “So this is love…” He whispered to himself and made his way to his troop, readying himself for the pictures.

#works from the typewriter #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #g/n reader #valentines event

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mobagehelllocal · 4 years

Text

“dati” ver ii - kalim, vil, idia & malleus

A/N: Wah, this got so long I had to split it into two parts ;u; So here’s some information if you didn’t read ver i, and went straight for ver ii!��

The Reader, is different from the actual MC of TWST!

“Dati” is a pretty difficult word to translate, because it’s just one word but--it can mean so much. For the sake of this story, you can interpret its meaning as “a long time ago”.

Due to the general premise, the reader is female!

The prologue for ver ii “dati” is the same prologue for ver i!

Link to the concept design for the uniform!

Inspired by:

“Dati” by Sam Concepcion, Tippy Dos Santos and Quest. (I encourage you to listen to it OR read the English lyrics.)

“If You Can Dream” by the Disney Princesses. (I would link both but my posts dont appear if I do that ;u;)

So, without further ado, let’s get into it!~

Other versions: ver i (riddle, leona, azul), ver ii (this)

"--as you already know. We held a school-wide meeting about the week long exchange program with the all-females private school, Garden Academy. Professors Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein accompanied our delegates to Garden Academy this morning,” Dire Crowley peered at his students through his black mask, “while Professor Mozus Trein stayed with our delegates, Professor Divus Crewel escorted the delegates from Garden Academy to Night Raven College.”

Excited whispers broke out in the crowd. Crowley cleared his throat once, then again--before everyone settled down. The Headmaster huffed audibly at that.

“I’ll be using this morning meeting to introduce the delegates,” Crowley turned to the left side of the stage. He motioned at Crewel who was standing back stage with a Garden Academy professor and her students. “Now then, please give a hand for--”

In the crowd, his eyes widened.

In turn, you were pretty excited too. You had held off telling your friend about you coming to his school because you wanted to surprise him.

All you girls had been assigned to a particular dorm, not to sleep in--but rather, to experience. Each dorm in NRC (much like GA), had their own unique culture. So, to truly experience the college meant you all needed to immerse yourselves in the different dorms and their cultures. You had to sneakily reconfirm with him what his dorm was, to make sure you got assigned to the correct one.

And now that you were here...

“Alright ladies,” Professor Radcliffe said kindly, “we will reconvene here at 5PM to return to the dorm Headmaster Crowley so generously set aside for us.”

“Yes Professor.” Radcliffe eyed all of you girls, before she sighed with an exasperated smile. You were all very excited, and doing very little to hide that.

“Okay, I know you want to go--but one last thing,” you all let out loud, false and very unladylike groans that Radcliffe ignored. “Remember to be beautiful--”

“At heart.” you all recited, familiar with your school’s motto.

“Go on then,” Radcliffe finally said, “the dorm heads and their assistants should be waiting outside for all of you.”

With a cheer, you all parted ways.

Kalim‘s eyes brightened as he caught sight of you again.

“Jamil! Jamil! Look!” he tugged on the other boy’s sleeves as he pointed you out to the crowd. “So it really is [Name]!”

“They did announce her full name on the stage, Kalim.” Jamil said rather blandly, not that Kalim was affected by his exasperated tone.

“Kalim! Jamil!” Your uniform--the pale green of House Water Lily, the House of Passion--swished around you as you came to a stop before the two boys that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“It’s been awhile.” You reached for their hands and clasped them with yours--at which both boys blushed. While Kalim gave you a goofy smile, Jamil instantly looked away.

You had spent a couple of months as a child in the Land of Hot Sands because your parents were just beginning to expand your family owned restaurant--Tiana’s Palace--into that country. You had met Kalim, then Jamil because your parents were business partners with Kalim’s father.

It was hard not to enjoy their friendship. Kalim--was fun loving and easy going. Jamil--was calm and attentive. When you were getting exhausted by Kalim’s energy, Jamil knew when to step in and what to say to calm him down. They were perfectly balanced, and you remembered them fondly.

Needless to say...

When it had been time for you to return to your country, there were a lot of tears.

“Sniff... why are you leaving?” Kalim cried, “I thought we would be friends forever!”

“I--I don’t want to leave too!” you shook, snot dripped down your nose.

“Kalim... [Name] has to go back.” Jamil said slowly, but even his eyes were glassy and wet.

“Wah!” You sniffled as you wrapped both of your arms around the two boys who became so dear to you.

“I--it’s not like we won’t meet again!” Jamil protested, as he too began to truly join in the crying fest.

“Waaah! Don’t leave [Name]!” Kalim wailed loudly.

“B--but I can’t stay.” you sobbed. “I tried already...”

(Behind you the adults were chuckling to themselves at the drama the kids were causing... had they not realized they could just ask them to keep in contact...?)

(But to a child, the world seemed infinite. It didn’t seem to have an end.

To the three of you, it truly felt like a final farewell.)

“Promise, we won’t forget each other?” you demanded as you pulled back. The two boys shared a glance through their tears and turned back to you with a determined nod.

“Promise we’ll always be friends, no matter what!” Kalim said. In turn you and Jamil nodded pretty determinedly.

Then you and Kalim turned to Jamil--you waited for him to make a promise too. He flushed at suddenly being put on the spot, before his eyes light up and he said--

“Then we promise--to meet up again, one day? Here?”

You and Kalim nodded vigorously at that.

As your parents took you a way, you all wailed pretty loudly.

“You can see them again one day.” your mother had said, confused.

“But it doesn’t mean I won’t miss them when I can’t see them.” you said in a solemn tone. Your parents exchanged looks amused looks.

“I’m surprised you got so attached to those two.”

“They were fun to play with.”

“I’m sure they were sweetie. Now get some rest.”

There was some time where you all attempted to exchange letters--since the MagiCam had yet to be developed to a point where international instant messaging was possible.

However...

Children were fickle creatures.

Within a few months, you all eventually found something of more interest than a friend from a distant place who you might not see again.

Your interests in each other waned away, until it became a distant, fond and somewhat embarrassing memory.

That is until...

“Hey [Name], did you sign up for the Night Raven College exchange program?” You looked up from the recipe book that you were reading.

“Yeah I did, why?”

“Did you know the model, Vil Schoenheit goes there?”

“Who is Vil?” Your friend gasped dramatically before she rolled her eyes. “Figures you wouldn’t know who Vil Schoenheit is. Come here.” She showed you pictures of Vil’s MagiCam account. There were some photos of the school, and rarer still--photos of other people aside from Vil himself.

Which, you know--if you had a face like that, you’d totally fill your MagiCam with just selfies.

“Oh Sweet Evangeline,” your friend sighed dreamily, “NRC boys are definitely cuter than RSA boys--and I swear I’m challenging all the RSA stans to try saying otherwise over my dead body--” You snickered at her rant, before a certain photo caught your eye.

“Oh is that...”

“Oh holy Evangeline--” your friend began to wheeze. “I think these are all the Dorm Leaders for this school year--” she clicked onto the photo to open the post. Your friend was right--Vil had noted that this was this year’s NRC Dorm Leader list.

“Malleus Draconia-- naturally. Vil Schoenheit--NATURALLY.” your friend giggled in excitement, “Oh, I guess Leona Kingscholar is repeating a year... No idea who Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto or Idia Shroud is--and this guy is--”

“Kalim Al-Asim.” you whispered. If you shut your eyes, you could hear the wind whistle, the laughter of two boys, the joyous shrieking of a girl--and a magic carpet ride across the wide expanse of the sky. Your friend arched a brow at you.

“Do you know him?”

“I think I do.” you hesitated, the sound of laughter still rang in your ears. “I’m pretty sure I met him when I was a kid... when I travelled around with my family.”

“Oooh, you should totally try and see if he remembers. He’s cute.”

“We were kids.” you tried to explain to your friend but she only waved a dismissive hand.

“You aren’t now. Also childhood romance trope is so cute, you gotta let me see it first hand.” your friend grabbed your phone and typed in the tagged username of Kalim Al-Asim.

{”Hi Kalim! Do you remember me? I’m [Name] [Surname].”}

{”Like [Name] [Surname]? Like Tiana’s Place? Yes! Oh Sorceror, how’d you find me?”}

{”Well funny story...”}

And the rest was history.

Jamil took awhile to come around, but you had a video call with the two, and after naming a particular embarrassing moment--Jamil had easily been convinced that it was actually you.

That had been a few months before the actual exchange, and you chose not to tell them about your part in it so you could surprise them once you got up on stage.

Surprise them you did.

The moment they announced your name, Kalim shouted, and Jamil had face palmed.

It was another memory to add to the ones you held dearly.

Now you were seated in Scarabia’s dorms, as you happily enjoyed the grand feast and parade prepared by Jamil and Kalim.

As Kalim flopped onto the seat next to yours, he shot you a wide grin.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am!” you hummed, “I haven’t been anywhere close to the Land of Hot Sands recently...” you put your spoon down and smiled. “The food is really good too! This is the best version of your cuisine that I have tasted. My compliments to the chef for sure! I’d love to take a peek at the recipe.” On your other side Jamil choked, and you turned to him with a confused expression.

“Are you okay, Jamil?” you asked, concerned.

“Hahah, he was probably surprised at the praise! Jamil cooked everything after all!”

“Woah, you did? We definitely should exchange recipes.” with a particularly red face, Jamil nodded his assent before he excused himself.

“I hope he’s okay.”

“It’s fine! He’s having a hard time expressing it, but he’s really excited to see you.” Kalim peered at you curiously. “I am too, of course.”

“Same.” you agreed. “It’s a little sad we lost contact.”

“Well, finding each other now was pretty fun! So I think it was worth it.” You giggled in response.

“I’ll have to agree with you, Kalim.”

You both turned back to the front to watch the parade when Kalim spoke up again.

“Hey [Name]?”

“Hm?”

“This time... let’s not lose each other, okay?” You turned back to Kalim, surprised at the change of his tone. You couldn’t help but let your expression melt into a soft one.

“Mhm! This time... let’s keep those promises.” You two shared a grin, as the parade finished off with fireworks.

When Vil saw you hop up onto the stage, he had definitely been surprised. He hadn’t expected to see you--though now that he thought about it, it had been so out of the blue of you to ask him about whether or not he was in Pomefiore.

Then again he had been busy with other things... So he hadn’t thought too much on it. You were, after all, the type of person who brought up something from ten years in the past simply because you suddenly remembered it. He had assumed it had been something like that.

Vil stood with Rook by his side, his arms crossed as he waited for the Garden Academy students to exit the Mirror Chamber. Once you finally appeared in the crowd, your eyes instantly met his.

“Hi Vil.” you greeted--uncharacteristically nervous and shy around him, dressed in the pale purple colors of House Chrysanthemum--the House of Artistry.

At the sight of you, Vil’s lips instantly curled up into a beautiful smile.

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan.” he raised a hand and began to rub a finger against a purple mark on your cheek. “paint got to your face again.” Your tense shoulders loosened as Vil greeted you the same way he always did.

“Whoops.” Vil shook his head, and as he pulled back he noticed that your skirt and your sleeves had faint splatter marks of paint--and on your wrist--

“You need to stop writing on your wrist, dear one.” he chided gently, though used to your antics, he easily unclipped his magic pen from his breast pocket and began to cast a spell to clean you up.

“Is it that obvious? I really did try to clean up...” you complained, but you let Vil fuss over you--as he normally did. There was no stopping him until he was satisfied. When he finally pulled back, he nodded in an approving manner.

“Vil, did you like it? Was it a good surprise?” you looked up at him with curiosity shining in your eyes, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Yes. It was a pleasant surprise. So we’ll be spending a whole two weeks together...” he mused.

You were a person he had grown up with, and the person he regarded as his dearest friend. Much like him, you had an eye for art--except while his art focused on himself as a model and actor--yours came in the form of paintings.

Your identical passion for beauty made the two of you attached at the hip. You were the one whose opinion mattered the most to him--because there was no one whose opinions he trusted more.

“Ohoho, Roi de Poison, who is this?” Rook peered curiously at you, he had never seen Vil react like this before...

Well actually he had. Whenever Vil was on his phone--but Vil never explained, and no matter how Rook tried, he never figured it out.

“This is my best friend, [Name]. We’ve been friends since our childhood.” Vil’s lips curled up, “She’s also--” Vil looked at you for a moment, and you nodded. Vil then mentioned your MagiCam account, and Rook’s eyes popped open in surprise. He knew that name--you were one of the most popular artist on MagiCam. Rook knew that you and Vil followed and liked each other’s works, but there had been no hint to the of your relationship with Vil.

He studied Vil curiously.

For someone who was never afraid to share what he did to the public’s eye, you were an incredibly well kept secret for Vil. From what he knew about you on MagiCam--you were a very private person who was never one to share your photos. Why, he knew that Idia Shroud from Ignihyde was a fan of some of your otaku related works--he had heard from the man that one of your quirks was that you chose to never appear in fan gatherings. You were incredibly mysterious.

To realize that--that person--

He eyed you curiously. You were far different from the women that Vil would often be seen hanging out with. As a model, he had a pretty extravagant social life. He hung out with people as glamorous as him and you--

Well, to put it plain and simple, you weren’t anything like that.

“So Vil, where do we go first?” you asked, Vil turned his gaze away from the analytical glint in Rook’s eyes, to smile at you.

“I’ll show you the gardens, I’m sure you’ll love them.”

After Vil had bid you ‘good bye’ as you and your classmates returned to your designated dorm, Vil looked at Rook with an annoyed expression.

“Alright Rook.” the Pomefiore Dorm Leader crossed his arms, “what is it?”

“What’s what?” the other third year raised his hands defensively.

“You kept staring at [Name] earlier with that look in your eye... I don’t like it.”

“I was just thinking... she was a very well kept secret.”

“A secret..?” Vil arched a brow. “She isn’t a secret at all. As you remember, she’s also incredibly famous on MagiCam.”

“No, I do mean, she’s a secret of yours, Roi de Poison.” Rook smiled, and Vil’s eyes narrowed in turn.

“I don’t understand.”

“You never mentioned her on MagiCam.”

“That was by her request. She wanted to build up her own audience.” Vil explained.

“Hm... that’s interesting.”

“What is?”

“I do believe...” Rook’s eyes slipped open. “That your friend is hiding something from you.

Vil didn’t like to believe what Rook told him, but he did wonder to himself how he could miss it.

You had considered each other best friends--yet he never noticed how you truly felt. The next time he caught you (because for some reason--it was as if you knew he wanted to talk to you about something important--and he had a difficult time catching you), he asked you if you could spend lunch together in private. You had happily agreed.

Once you two had sat down together in one of the gazebos in NRC’s gardens, he placed down the basket of food.

“Ah! Vil, it looks really good~” you said, happy.

“Yes, and you’ll see it’s all healthy too.” he smiled--how could he not, in your presence? As you two began to eat, you chattered on about what you’ve seen and liked about NRC so far. While he did listen--he can’t help but have his thoughts drift off to Rook’s statement.

Could you really be hiding--?

“--Vil? Is something wrong?” you put the utensil down, and studied your friend with a worried expression on your face. He felt a little guilty--your usual absent minded but happy expression was twisted with the furrow of your brow, and the downward slope of your lips.

“No it’s...” he hesitated a moment. He thought for a second how you were the first person to ruffle him in a long time. “I was thinking... we’re both big influencers now--in fashion and in the arts.”

“Alright, I’m listening.” you nodded.

“Why don’t we do a collaboration? While you’re still here. We have a week left.” He offered, and you furrowed your brows.

“I don’t know Vil--as alike as our fields are, our audiences can be pretty different.”

“Do you... well, do you not like sharing about me on your page?” Vil hated this. As an influencer, he was used to being loved and hated. There was a time when the comments got to him--but now, he’s able to brush it off with little problem. With you though--well, he was always going to be emotionally invested in you. So, of course you could make him feel this insecure. He hadn’t felt like this for such a long time--and it’s certainly much worse than he remembered. You looked alarmed.

“What? No, no! Of course that’s not it.” you frantically shook your head as you reached your hands out to hold his.

“Then why? I was happy that you didn’t want to mix business with our friendship... but well... something made me realize that we don’t have a relationship on MagiCam at all and...” Vil paused, and you rubbed the back of his hands gently. “And you’re so important to me [Name]. So I want to share that with my followers too.” Your cheeks turned red at that and you looked down on your laced hands.

“It’s just...” you inhaled sharply, “I... well, I know you have a certain image to uphold and--and I don’t want to be someone who would cause people to criticize you.” you pulled your hands away to gesture at yourself. Paint splattered blouse, ink on your wrist and hair--an absolute mess. “I mean look at me... and look at you. People have a hard time imagining we’re friends and--and well... I know the type of fans Beauty influencers can have. I don’t want to get criticized because I know you’ll defend me and I don’t want that to negatively affect your reputation.” Your eyes flickered away, and he could swear they were slightly wet.

Of course.

Rook was wrong.

Rook had assumed that perhaps you simply hadn’t wanted to be associated with Vil Schoenheit. While that was technically the truth--you weren’t doing it for negative reasons. You were just looking out for him--thinking about the best for his reputation.

“Like right now--I really wanted to see you, surprise you--so I impulsively joined the exchange program and couldn’t back out. I was worried about how people might see us hang out together... I’m worried about how what your fans will think...”

However, there was no way in hell that Vil Schoenheit would let you put yourself down like this.

“Okay, no.” he interrupted, and you looked up at him--confused.

“Vil?”

“I won’t allow you to look down at yourself like that. I appreciate that you care about my reputation but--” he takes your hands in his and looks you in the eye. “[Name], you’re more important to me than that.” your eyes water up, and he kept speaking.

“Sweet one, you were always my number one fan--even before my career really took off, you were the one who cheered me on. You were so sure I could do this, even when I had my own moments of weakness. You believed in me when no one else did.” Vl scowled, “So I’ll always be on your side too, alright? It doesn’t matter to me what they all think.”

“But... you really worked hard to get to where you are.” you said weakly, “It can happen super quickly...”

“I am not Vil Schoenheit for nothing.” he said in response, “besides--you are beautiful [Name].” your blushed intensified, and you ducked your head. “Do you not believe me? I know beauty when I see it--and I know you are.”

“Vil... please stop, you’re embarrassing me.”

“No I will not. I will keep telling you this until you know this. I refuse to let someone I consider beautiful, look down on herself like this. Alright?” He reached out a hand to lift your chin. Your eyes were wet, and you bit your lip as you nodded hesitantly.

He smiled, pleased.

“Vil... I’m sorry for not... well...”

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner. What type of best friend am I, that it took someone else pointing it out for me to realize it?” You giggled at that.

“Well, to be fair--we are best friends. I know how to hide it from you.”

“And you better stop hiding these things from me, alright?”

“Yes, of course.” you nodded, a grin finally lit up your face. Vil’s smile turned gentle.

“Now, how about we think of a collaboration project?”

As you stepped out of the Mirror Chamber, you immediately move in the direction of a familiar blue flame.

“Hello Ortho.” When Ortho looked up, he beamed brightly.

“[Name]!” He wrapped his arms around you, which you reciprocate with an elegant smile.

“It has been awhile, has it not?” you mused, as you let go of him. You quickly smoothened the pink skirts of House Eglantine--the House of Sophistication. You turned your head from side to side and your brow raised as you realized that a certain man wasn’t here.

“Ortho, where is your brother?” Ortho gulped nervously, and behind him--one of the Ignihyde student’s gadget began to shake. Your eyes narrowed.

“Is your brother holing himself up in his room again? On such an occasion? Which requires his presence as a dorm leader?”

“Uh...” Ortho glanced away nervously before he met your gaze again. “Yes?”

“Ortho!” squeaked the gadget, “you could defend me!”

“Sorry big brother... but you also brought it onto yourself.” Ortho said quickly, and your lips twitched at that. “There’s no point in lying to [Name].”

“That’s true.” you could hear Idia squeak from the tablet at your response. “Take me to his room.”

“Alright [Name].” Ortho agreed easily.

“Ortho!” Idia wailed, “on whose side are you on?”

“For once, not yours. Sorry big brother.” Ortho eagerly looked up at you. “Will you tell me some stories?”

“I also have pictures.” you offered and Ortho cheered. You turned back to the the tablet.

“Prepare yourself Idia.”

“I’m going to die.”

Your childhood best friend mourned, and your lips quirked in amusement.

Despite it all, you had missed Idia especially because...

Your lips twitched downward for a bit, before you immediately composed yourself.

You really didn’t want to upset Idia after all.

As he heard you begin to tell Ortho some stories from your school, Idia began to frantically run around his room, and cleaned up as best as possibly could.

After all, you weren’t a part of House Eglantine just for show.

Like him, you were the daughter of an incredibly old and wealthy family from the Isle of Lamentation. In your childhood, Idia, who had always been shy--attached himself to you, when you had protected him from some bullies. Ever since, he just followed you around.

For some reason, you chose to stick around with him--despite how different the two of you were.

He was an absolute shut-in who preferred to play games and watch anime from the comfort of his bedroom.

You were a popular socialite amongst the elite of the Isle of Lamentation--known for your beauty and intelligence. You were also recognized on MagiCam for your love of travel. In fact, you were often transported all over Twisted Wonderland because tourists locations wanted to be on your account.

Again, he really didn’t see why you stuck around.

A lot of his friends when he was younger--those seeking to befriend the Shroud Family’s heir--had given up on him when they all realized that he was difficult to communicate with.

But not you.

Ever since he attached himself to you--you had seemed to attach yourself back for no reason. You willingly called himself his best friend (and despite how different you were--he’d admit that you were the only friend he had that he could consider as a best friend--), which could hurt your social standing because of how insanely beloved you were--but you didn’t care (and of course, you’re also the type of popular kid that could never make yourself unpopular).

Don’t get Idia wrong.

He didn’t hate you.

You were patient.

You were kind.

You were understanding.

Idia definitely had a crush on you, and he didn’t know what to do with it--because he had such a hard time finding something about himself that you might be attracted to.

You were like the true hidden route to be conquered on a dating simulation game. First he would need to find a way to ensure that he were on the right path. Then next, he needed to complete a bunch of prerequisites to be able to even access this hidden route.

Your difficulty level was EX.

He had spent most of his childhood by your side--

‘but why does it feel like I know nothing about you?’ he frowned.

Truth be told, Idia had an idea on why. He had been very selfish with you. Nobody had been willing to talk to him about his interests in real life--except you. That’s why he talked to you about his games or robotics--because it’s different when someone in real life is the one doing the listening to you. In the process of that, he felt like you knew more about him than the other way around and it made him guilty.

He was guilty he didn’t hear you out often but the thing is--you never really shared.

“--Idia.” he felt a hand press against his forehead, and he fell backwards with a screech. You put your hands on your hips as you looked down at him with an arched brow. “Well, at least I know you aren’t running a fever.”

“You--you’re here!” He squeaked, “Already?”

“I am.” you looked around, and noted how messy his room was. Instead of commenting however, you began to move around and pick up his things. When you noticed he still hadn’t moved, you turned to him with an arched brow. “Come on Idia, I’ll help you.”

“Ah... Okay.” He looked up at Ortho in confusion, and it seemed that he was also stunned that you hadn’t gone straight into a lecture about his responsibilities as you normally would.

Idia considered himself a terrible friend, but he wasn’t so terrible as to not notice that you weren’t... well, at max HP. Sometimes he thought you would get angry, but you would instead sigh, and just avert your gaze.

When you were in public (because Idia was worried okay? So he kept an eye out for you too--) you seemed to interact normally with your peers. The fans you had in NRC--were dealt with your normal grace.

However, when you would visit Idia, you would grow quiet--and thoughtful.

It was, literally, killing him.

Was it him? Were you mulling the idea of cancelling your support together?

Idia sincerely didn’t know what to do if this was real.

So one time when you were in his bedroom, you suddenly got a call. You looked down at your phone, furrowed your brows in that way that Idia hated--and left the room.

“You should speak with her, brother.” Ortho suggested, a frown on his face. “she seemed really down recently.”

“I mean... what do I even say?” Idia squeaked.

“I’m not sure.” Ortho shrugged, “but I can tell your concerned brother, so just do it.”

Idia gathered all his courage, and moved to follow you. As he turned down the hallway he heard you speak.

“--I don’t want to marry Adonis.”

Idia immediately froze, and stood in place as he heard your one sided argument--with who he assumed--was probably one of your parents.

Alongside with being the most popular socialite of the elites in the Isle of Lamentation, you were also the most desirable waifu--ahem--he meant bachelorette.

Idia knew this because it was one of the only times you ever complained about it. Your parents were pleased with how popular you were, and the amount of marriage offers you received. You had told him that since you were pretty young, you weren’t really being forced to chose now.

“But I’m sure the pressure will be different when I grow older.” you had sighed. Idia hadn’t known what to say--and the most he could do was put a hand on your back.

“There... there?” he asked, with a frown. He really hadn’t known what to do. You looked up and met his eyes before laughing.

“Sorry to bother you about this Idia.”

‘No, it’s okay! I don’t mind!’ was what he thought, but you stood up.

“Venting helped a little. Thank you for listening.” you picked up your things and stared at a frozen Idia. “I think I’ll go home now. I’ll see you... later.”

He should’ve tried to stop you--but he just... blanked. He should’ve tried to say something--anything to cheer you up. Heck, maybe you would’ve liked for him to ask if you wanted to game a little to get your mind off of it.

“I’m serious mother... Adonis doesn’t respect women--I won’t...” you paused, “I won’t feel safe... I know father thinks he’s the best option but... I don’t really want to talk about this right now. I’m in Idia’s dorm...” you stopped again.

“Mother...” your voice was shaky, and Idia’s hands fisted in his coat. “No. Stop talking about Idia like that.” Idia tensed, and turned his head. “... It’s not about that, he’s my friend. My best friend. I won’t allow you to talk about him like that.”

Idia had an idea on what the elite of the Isle of Lamentation thought of him. They looked at him with respect because he was the heir to the Shroud Family, they also acknowledged his skills with technology... but otherwise? He was considered eccentric.

The reason your family did not mind your relationship with him--is because it brought them a certain esteem. That their daughter was the only one who the next Shroud heir would actively communicate with. The Shrouds were still one, if not the most powerful family in the Isle after all.

“Bye.”

Idia flinched, and he frantically looked around for a place to hide.

“Idia?” He looked up and noticed that you were looking at him with a startled expression, before it slipped to an exhausted one.

“You heard...?”

“A bit.” he croaked out. “Is that... why you were so sad?”

“You noticed?” He frowned at that.

“Of course I did... we’re... friends, right?” you studied him carefully, and he felt like he was in a boiler room or something--he was sweating a lot.

“Yeah we are.” you then slid down to the ground, and tucked your skirt underneath you. You looked up at him expectantly, and he hastily sat down next to you.

“So they’re pressuring you right now.” Idia stated.

“Yeah.”

“With Adonis.”

“Yeah...” you groaned, as you raised your hands to your temples. “they could’ve chosen anyone.. but they chose that narcissistic... arse.”

“Who are the other offers?” Idia asked, and you mumbled out a bunch of names he recognized. Hey, he might not be active in the social sphere, but he was aware on who was who.

“Adonis is...” Idia paused, “well in terms of social standing, I guess.”

“Yeah. Unless someone of higher status proposes, there’s nothing I can do.” you mumbled.

“What about me?” You whirled your head to look at Idia. “W-what--? You?” You cleared your throat, “I mean...that... I...”

“Oh.” Idia blinked in surprise. “No! NO! Wait! I meant, why--what was your mother saying about me?” Your face flushed red, and Idia found your flustered expression cute. You rarely showed that face.

“Oh you know, same old, same old.” you grumbled as you fanned your face with a hand. “Just... criticizing you... and all that.”

“Well... I can guess what she said, and... she’s probably... not wrong.” You turned to him with the same ferocity that you had done earlier.

“No Idia, don’t you dare speak of yourself as that. Don’t you dare listen to the elites on Lamentation. They couldn’t be even more wrong about you.”

“But--”

“No buts.” you narrowed your eyes, and he flinched at the sight of your fury. “You are an amazing person--you’re smarter than they think and you create some pretty amazing things. Sure you could stand to go out more and make friends--but when you’re focused on your craft...” you paused, and you expression softened. Idia wondered what you were remembering. “You are so amazing. I hate how they don’t see that.” His breath hitched.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do! I love you--your work.” you coughed in response. The two of you went silent, before you sighed and picked yourself up. He looked up at you, and you shot him the same sad smile you had--all those years back, when the problems of today seemed like distant nightmares.

“Thank you for listening to me, Idia.” you said, “and I’m sorry to bother you with my problems.”

“I... I’m your friend right?”

“... Yes.”

“So please... don’t worry about it [Name].” he looked away uncomfortably. “I may complain sometimes...”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, all the time.” he said grouchily, and you giggled--which made it all the more worth it. “...even if I complain all the time--you’re still my precious friend.”

You smiled, leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

When you pulled back, Idia was stuttering, and turning red.

“Thank you, Idia.”

After you left Ignihyde, he sat back at his computer and began typing out an email.

For you--whose smile was so precious to him...

Idia knew that he liked you. A lot.

He probably already loved you really.

And judging from the way you reacted--

maybe it was mutual...?

Dear Lord and Lady [Surname],

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Shroud would like to extend an offer of engagement between your daughter, [Name] [Surname] and our heir, Lord Idia Shroud...

"Oh no.” one of the Garden Academy students, dressed in the aquamarine colors of House Sage--House of Spirituality, turned to Lilia with a frown. “We’re missing one of our fellow House Sage classmates... give us a moment, we’ll go find her.”

Lilia’s lips only curled upward.

“Would her name happen to be [Name] [Surname]?”

“Yes.” the student blinked in surprise. “That would be her.”

“Ah.” Lilia smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s fine. I’m sure he’s gone to find her already.”

The Garden Academy students shared a glance.

The most Malleus knew was that majority of the Student Body had gone off to the Mirror Chamber for some event. He didn’t know, after all, he hadn’t been invited.

So he had decided to go on a long walk, internally unamused that he was once more forgotten when he sensed it--

Your presence.

It was in the gentle caress of the wind against his face, in the rustle of the leaves, and in the soft warmth of the sun.

One moment he was incredibly unhappy, and in the next second--he felt your magic touch his.

It was like a ripple--and it soothed his entire being.

You and your magic--he wondered if you knew the extent of your effect on him.

He began to walk deep into the forest.

He paused in his step as he caught sight of you. You had sat down in a patch of sunlight in the small meadow. You were surrounded by some creatures of the forest--from bears to deers and rabbits. You looked completely serene--as you should--after all, you were one of the most powerful nature fae living. Coming from your head were horns--but nothing like his. Yours were shorter, and much more like tree branches. As you hummed idly to yourself, a few birds fluttered forward and decorated your horns with small flowers. Your smile brightened the clearing, and the birds--pleased--chirped a song that you instantly began to hum along with.

How he wished he could draw closer to you without disrupting the peace--animals didn’t do well with Malleus. They inherently knew how powerful he was--and though the same could be said about what they sensed from you--your powers were much more attuned to nature in itself. To be by your side--it would be peace for the animals.

‘ He could understand. By your side, there were no pressures to be anyone else other than himself.’

As he stepped into the clearing, all the animals turned to look at him, and tensed. You blinked in surprise at their actions, before you turned your head to see Malleus at the far edge of the small clearing you were in.

“Mal.” you greeted, your startled expression slipped into a sweet, happy one. “It has been a long time.” Malleus inclined his head. “Won’t you come close, dear friend?” you raised a hand, beckoning him to come closer.

He eyed the animals around you warily.

“I don’t think they will enjoy that.” You let out a soft laugh at his deadpanned statement. Your laugh seemed to instantly calm most of the animals down (he could feel his tensed shoulders unknot too). You looked around you and began to speak to them.

“Now now everyone--Mal is a dear friend. I grew up with him. He’s a good person. Won’t you all please be patient with him?” The animals around you shuffled uneasily.

You looked up again and gestured for Malleus to draw closer once more. Malleus approached slowly at first, and once he realized that none of the animals would be disrupted, easily slid down beside you. One of the male deers leaned forward to sniff him--and Malleus held as still as possible. Apparently satisfied, the deer relaxed beside Malleus. Around him, the animals slipped back to their relaxed states.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” One particularly ambitious rabbit hopped up onto your lap and peered inquisitively at Malleus. You smiled, and began to brush your fingers through the animal’s hair.

“[Name], not that I’m unhappy to see you but...” He began, “what are you doing here?”

“My school, the Garden Academy is having an exchange program with your school.” you peered up curiously at your childhood friend. “Did you not hear?”

“As per usual, I do believe people have forgotten to inform me.” he frowned slightly. “Then... this would be the event being held at the Mirror Chamber, then?” You nodded.

“The event should still be ongoing.” Malleus eyed you curiously, but you spread your arms wide in response.

“The trees told me that some creatures were excited to see me.” You said--and the animals all made noises of agreement, “so I thought to visit them already.”

“Will your classmates and teacher not worry then?” You giggled at his questions.

“I appreciate the concern Mal but.. there’s nothing here that can harm me.” you said simply, and he hummed in acknowledgement--you were right.

You were perhaps the one person Malleus could consider an equal.

You had grown up side by side--and he was more than aware of your power and capabilities.

If there was one person who knew him as well as Lilia--it was you. You had seen him at his best and his worst--you were there when he could barely control his own magical power. He hadn’t been good at dampening his own energy back then--nobody ever approached him out of fear for the amount of power he had. The only one who bothered to interact with him had been Lilia, who had been his designated caretaker and...

And you.

You had no reason to be by his side when he had been his most volatile.

But you had been there.

And you stuck by him with no hesitation.

“How about you?” You glanced at the dragon fae from the edge of your eye.

“Ah. I wasn’t invited.” he answered with a sigh, and you could see the discontent in the almost, unnoticeable, wrinkle between his brows. You--who knew him so well--could spot the tiniest giveaways to Malleus’s moods--it was a skill you were proud of.

You were someone who occupied an almost identical role to Malleus. All that differs from the two of you is the type of magic you possessed.

As a dragon fae, and a descendant of the Witch of Thorns--it was easy to predict the type of power Malleus would eventually manifest. Draconic transformation and dark magic. This made people fear him, and dislike interacting with him.

As a nature fae, and a descendant of the Spirit of the Willow--most knew that you would grow to have power attuned with nature. It explained why you could speak the language of the trees and flowers--why animals adored you. To others--people saw you as harmless.

Perhaps in the beginning, you hadn’t really thought too much of your similarities. As years passed however--you realized how unfair the world was to Malleus.

They never saw the boy who sneezed and set Lilia’s hair on fire, they never acknowledged the man who treasured his Gao Gao Dragon toy--because it adored him as is. They didn’t allow Malleus to make mistakes, they didn’t allow Malleus to be vulnerable. They refused to see past this idea of a strong magician and the title of prince.

You reached forward and cupped his cheek. He turned to look at you quizzically.

“Then... should we have our own event?” You smiled, a tad bit more mischievous. You looked down at the animals. “Would you be willing to help out, my friends?”

The bunny in your lap twitched its nose in response, and a lot of the animals eagerly leaned closer.

“An event, like a party--to celebrate our reunion?” You glanced at Malleus to see him look on in curiosity. It seemed like the animals understood the idea of a party and began to move. You noticed the the female animals were the ones who specifically pulled you away, and when you glanced at Malleus--you noticed the the male animals began to surround him. He shot you a desperate look, but you only laughed.

“Let’s have fun!”

The male animals had weaved flowers together on top of Malleus’s head. Another animal had gotten several leaves, and put them together to form a long cape. He had no idea how the animals were doing it--but he just assumed it was because you were magic.

One of the birds flew over, and chirped loudly--which the animals took as a sort of signal. They all stopped and studied what they had done to Malleus. They began to make displeased noises, until one of the deers pushed a long stick towards Malleus. When he picked it up, he looked to the animals to see that they were all still unsatisfied. To humor them, He unclipped his pen from his breast pocket and waved it. He used the foliage that had fallen to the ground to decorate the stick--and craft it into a staff similar to his own.

“Is it good?” he asked, and the animals all vigorously gave their assent. At that, he could feel his lips curl up. The bird chirped again, and the animals snapped into action. One of the bucks nudge Malleus forward with his snout. “Ah, is it time to go back?” the birds make a pleasant chirping sound, and he allowed himself to be pushed back into the clearing.

He found himself in the clearing again--with all the male animals standing by his side. He thought briefly of what an amusing sight this probably was, until another bird chirped from the opposite side of the clearing. He raised his gaze that way, as a bunch of female birds flew in, and dropped flower petals onto the ground. The smaller animals came in first, followed by the younger fauns--and finally--

You stepped forth into the light of the clearing, and he found his breath caught in his throat. While the flowers on his form were restricted to his crown--the animals had chosen to decorate your whole form with it. Unlike the flower crown you were wearing earlier--this one had a train that fell to the ground, and billowed around you--making you all the more ethereal. Escorted on either side by the tall, elegant form of does--you resembled the idea of a Fae Queen with her animal court. As you came to a stop beside Malleus, you giggled at his surprised expression. He felt something tug on his pants, and when he looked down--he found a squirrel made exaggerated gestures towards you.

“Ah.” he looked up and met your curious gaze. “You look beautiful, [Name].” And he did mean it--for the centuries that he had known you, and the centuries he had yet to share with you--he knew that one thing would remain constant--the way you made his heart skip a beat, and the way you were beauty in everything you did.

“Thank you, Malleus. You look handsome” you blushed. That’s when you were both nudged forward by the deers, and were now much closer. One of the deers, snatched the staff in his hand. The birds fluttered around you, pulling your sleeves into place until finally--both you and Malleus were moved to a waltz pose. You stared into each other’s eyes, stunned. Malleus wondered briefly is animals were truly capable of sensing feelings he had--that even he had yet to fully comprehend.

“Shall we?” he offered, and you beamed in response. The birds began to sing, and the two of you proceeded to dance in the clearing.

“I think they enjoyed themselves, too much.”

“Did you have fun?” Malleus asked gently, and you smiled.

“I did but...” you curiously peered up at him. “Did you have fun?”

“I suppose I did.” He mused.

The other animals watched on--pleased.

Though neither of you saw it--blissfully caught up in enjoying your dance--they did. They could see the future King and Queen of Faeries.

#aiwrites #aiscenarios #ai dati series #ai tga verse #female reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst scenarios #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleus

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