#perplexed confusion original post

[perplexed-confusion]

I feel like we should all be a little more obsessed with Tommy calling Buck "adorable".

#perplexed confusion original post #911 spoilers #911 #i watch 911 🚒🚒 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy

[shiny-jr]

➸ damnation [ the raven retainer ]

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

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

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

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

– Pages: 42

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

The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer   |   ?????

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you…! You saved me!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him. 

“Closer.” 

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

“Closer.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How is this?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your Majesty, our wondrous Vil!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then say so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#twst #twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #neige leblanche #twst neige #epel felmier #twst epel #yandere epel felmier #rook hunt #twst rook #yandere rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twst vil #yandere vil schoenheit #Pomefiore #damnation twst au

[xcyphoz0a]

Hello there! I hope your day is going well, but if not I hope it gets better dude!!!🤗

I wanted to know if it’s alright to request an idea for sagau? Like I might make a post about this but I always thought it would be cool to have y/n retain some realistic features even though they isekai into tevat!

Like for example; the hair being more textured, shines in reflection , the way they would have different shades and saturation throughout the skin, they way how your touch feels ‘real’ or different, oh and ur eyes, oh how the characters could look how your pupils reflects, etc.

Idk I always thought if I were to make and character of mine or y/n still retaining little features they had back their own world seem kind of cool and interesting to think how people would react to it!

Even better is if they don’t know you’re the ‘creator’ of their reality and they were only able to hear your voice and how you express yourself!!

Anyways sorry for making this so long 🥲 I’m just kind of curious on how you or others would feel on this idea 💡

Unique differences

Gender neutral reader, ideas TW/CW: sagau Character(s): Some characters from Mondstadt Word count: 608 Proofread: n/a | The differences you hold is what makes you unique, so special, lovable. | A/N: hello! I hope this fits your tastes..? might have a part two if i manage to find some more ideas!

Taglist: @chaoffee

When you arrive you probably don’t know why some random citizens look at you with such amazed, perplexed gazes, with you likely thinking there’s something on your face that you don’t know was there.

You’re also slightly confused why the hilichurls don’t attack when you’re an inch near them, and why the slimes seem to be more docile, why you barely manage to see abyss mages– everything’s odd.

If you arrive near Mondstadt, Amber is the first one to find you and lead you towards the headquarters of the knights of Favonius, but she definitely notices something different with you. You haven’t spoken yet, so she doesn’t know who you really are, perhaps, you’re like the traveller, she thinks.

But when you properly introduce yourself to Jean and the others the whole knights that are in the headquarters, such as Albedo, Sucrose, Kaeya, Lisa, perhaps Eula, gather around you, murmuring to themselves that you’re 99% the creator that they’ve only ever heard, and you’re just standing there. 

With your voice, the different, more dynamic and ‘lively’ look that you have seemed to make more sense–your eyes held the shine and reflection of their own appearance, your skin seemed to be much softer… and you assume that you’ve managed to retain some realer features you had in your original world.

Don’t worry, don’t fret, they love you with or without differences. Even if you weren’t the creator, Mondstadt welcomes you with open arms.

Best to say now the whole of Mondstadt finally knows their creator’s here in their region.

While Albedo knows that you are the creator, he can’t help but wonder if he can try to run some tests–he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just has an infinite curiosity ridden area in his mind.

Same goes for Sucrose too, but she doesn’t want to come off as rude or disrespectful, so she only holds these curiosities within her, oftentimes writing this in her journal, it’s not creepy, I promise.

Jean finds your presence nice, but more than others, it feels as if you’re like a safe haven for her with only just your presence, and you can visibly see her tired eyes brighten up when you pat her head for her hard work.

For Lisa, she also holds some questions for you, though she’d rather stay where she is, watching and hearing you enthusiastically talk about the books and literature in your world in the library.

Diluc wishes he was the person to find you first and lead you to Mondstadt– his feelings towards the knights of Favonius may be neutral and slightly, very slightly bad, but he’s still grateful that you managed to arrive safely. If you manage to visit Angel’s Share often, he’s somehow always there, wiping a glass or two.

Kaeya’s teasing his brother. No hard feelings though! Just pure friendly sibling rivalry. But when you’re near, his charismatic face fades as he’s rendered to someone yearning for affection–it’s adorable.

Same goes for Eula. She’s not often seen in Mondstadt due to her… ‘status’, but when you welcome her with open arms and no judgemental gaze, she feels… so appreciated. She’s barely felt this before other than in the knights of Favonius, but this… feels more different, warm, loving.

Venti’s elated, often like him a majority of times, but for him, he feels the joy that he’s never felt before–it’s pure, unadulterated joy that stems from his chest, as his mind fills with endless pure and innocent praise and lyrics for you with his lyre. The weather in Mondstadt seems to be more light, a refreshing breeze whenever Venti’s with you for some reason…

#the jellyfish's work #astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin sagau #albedo x reader #sucrose x reader #jean x reader #lisa x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #eula x reader #venti x reader

[janearts]

(Original post.)

This is not a direct response to these tags, but these tags unfortunately made me think about spider reproduction, a topic I wanted to remain blissfully ignorant about. But Roisia would know how spiders reproduce and spider anatomy, so now I know... and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

While Roisia would not want to get *ahem* Grecian myth levels of intimate with a druid-turned-spider, she would be able to entertain some ideas about Halsin's natural elven form based on his arachnid anatomy.

I'll also take this moment to point out that they gave the male-presenting drider in one of the BG3 trailers female pedipalps, which would confuse and perplex Roisia until someone gently reminds her that trans male driders are male driders.

#cw: arachnophobia #cw: spiders #cw: Jane's Cursed Knowledge #BG3 Roisia #i shan't tag anyone or anything else because no one deserves this

[mikage-rehoe]

A Bouquet of Red Roses (but make it a hundred)

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.7k

tags: post-timeskip, office au (office workers to lovers), mutual confession (is that even a thing? 🤔), Japanese honorifics are used, one cheesy chemistry pick-up line is used, LOTS AND LOTS OF RED ROSES!!!

a/n: dedicated to mami @quirrrky (ayiiiiiiiiiiieeeeee 😏♥️). Based on a request drabble by another Kuroo-simping moot @jotatetsuken from my old blog, rewrote and expanded it into a full-fledged fic. The original version’s been betaread by @krystalgaia, and this expanded version’s betaread by my fellow residents @unknownspecies @blackfire2013 @kenslilove at @enchantedforest-network—thank you 🙇🏻‍♀️ heart dividers by @cafekitsune 😘

Kisa’s General Taglist

RIIIIIIIIIIIING! “L/N-san speaking, yes! …yes? …a package for me? Hm… I don’t know… Hmm, mhm… I’ll receive it there at the lobby, thanks.” You placed the phone receiver back on its cradle, ending the call before quickly saving the worksheet you were doing on your computer.

“Going for a break, L/N-san?” Your co-worker Kuroo asked, face peeking from behind his cubicle across yours, his brown eyes looking curiously at your figure, while you shut down your computer and fish out your phone and wallet inside your bag before standing up.

You shook your head and grinned, fetching your coat from the back of your office chair and draped it around your shoulders. “Ah, no! Kikutani-san from the reception area just called, saying a delivered package of some sort that’s addressed to me came in, and I was to receive it at the lobby today.”

“‘Of some sort’, huh…,” he hummed, looking a bit perplexed. “I wonder what kind of package that is… Hope it’s not some weird stuff some random dude just sent it to you.”

You sighed vexingly. “Same here… though I don’t remember ordering some stuff online these past few weeks.” You started heading towards the double sliding doors, waving at Kuroo. “Kuroo-san, if someone asks for me while I’m away, please tell them I’ll be quick!”

He waved back, grinning softly. “Okay! Be careful on the way~” 

At the office lobby…

“...ah, L/N-san! Here are the papers you need to sign on for the package,” the senior receptionist, Kikutani, said while handing you a clipboard and pen. She rested her chin under her intertwining hands, pouting. “Lucky you, receiving such a sweet gift from your darling~ I’m envious!” She continued on rambling dramatically. “Ahhh~ when will the day of meeting my own Prince Charming finally come?”

You stopped midway through signing upon hearing her and turned to look at her. “Pardon?”

The receptionist then glanced sideways, which you followed suit, at a seemingly large bouquet of red roses sitting on the far right of the front desk, slightly obscuring the brass nameplate of the company’s logo on the wall.

“Wow… what a sight…,” a fellow employee who happened to pass by the lobby muttered, subtly taking a picture of the huge red-colored package from their phone’s camera. “Lucky~” A few other employees also followed suit.

“W-Wait a second, Kikutani-san… you don’t mean… these are mine? This whole bouquet of roses is mine?!” you blurted out in confusion, a faint blush blooming on your cheeks.

“Uh-huh,” Kikutani nodded in reply as she watched you pick up the card from the bouquet. “All ninety-nine red roses.”

You stopped yourself from opening the card and reading its contents, side-eyeing the senior receptionist. “Wait… how do you know they’re ninety-nine in total?”

She winked amusingly at you. “I counted them earlier while waiting for you to receive them.” You shook your head in disbelief as you gently opened the card that was attached to the bouquet and read: “‘Forget hydrogen. You’re my number one element ♡’” You softly chuckled at the cheesy chemistry pick-up line written on the card. Cute. Whoever wrote this knows their science stuff very well and how witty of them to incorporate it into a good pick-up line.

“You know, in the language of roses, even the number of roses have their profound meaning, too,” the receptionist said out of the blue. “Receiving a bouquet of ninety-nine red roses from a special someone means that they’ll love you until the day they die.” She added thoughtfully, “…it’ll be wonderful if you were to receive a hundred red roses, though.”

You gently felt the soft-rough texture of the petals with your fingertips, and hummed, “Is that so…?” But, if there are ninety-nine roses in the bouquet… where is the one-hundredth rose, if ever there is? you asked yourself.

You then looked at Kikutani in a nonplussed expression. “But, Kikutani-san, how can I receive such a beautiful and expensive bouquet when I don’t have a lover yet? Much less a suitor…”

The receptionist stood quiet for a few seconds, staring at you. “You haven’t?”

“Since birth,” you replied, nodding in embarrassment.

Kikutani blinked once before clearing her throat. “Oh Lord... I’m sorry I misunderstood, dear,” she apologized.

You quickly dismissed it, waving your hands in front. “Ah, no! It’s okay, Kikutani-san, you don’t have to apologize. It’s just… this is my first time receiving a bouquet of roses so I feel kind of overwhelmed for a bit,” you chuckled softly.

“Oooohhh~ L/N Y/N-chan from the IT Department getting a bouquet of ninety-nine red roses from a dashing secret admirer, huh? Pretty romantic, if you ask me~” she said in a singsong voice, before her eyes noticed something behind you and smiled sweetly. “Ah! Speaking of dashing…”

“Oya? What do we have here?” You jumped on your feet and turned around to see your ‘dashing’ co-worker approaching the front desk, practically surprising you.

“Eh? Kuroo-san, why… what are you doing here…?” you asked in puzzlement.

“‘Why,’ you ask…?” Your tall male co-worker with bedhead hair then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. “I… I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all…,” he muttered; you failed to notice the faint red tinge coloring his cheeks as he said that.

“Ne, ne, Kuroo-san, did you hear?” The receptionist clapped her hands, drawing both your and Kuroo’s attention to her, and pointed her thumb at you. “L/N-san’s got a rich secret admirer and sent them a huge bouquet of red roses!”

You’re exaggerating a bit, Kikutani-san…, you thought, shaking your head.

Kuroo cocked his head on one side and looked at the card in your hands, feigning disinterest. “Uh-huh… a ‘secret admirer’, huh…”

You leaned your head into your hand and laughed, looking flustered at the thought. “Kikutani-san, even if there exists a ‘rich secret admirer’, I don’t know who would spend their money buying such an extravagant gift for me…”

“Hmm… I think I know of one—me,” he admitted, magically producing a single long-stemmed red rose from his hand, and gave it to you, smiling genuinely. You heard Kikutani gasp in the background and say, “A single red rose… it means ‘love at first sight’!”

You stared at Kuroo, your cheeks getting redder and redder, the beating of your heart pounding louder and louder.

“W-what’s the meaning of this, Kuroo-san?”

Earlier…

You started heading towards the double sliding doors, waving at Kuroo. “Kuroo-san, if someone asks for me while I’m away, please tell them I’ll be quick!”

He waved back, grinning softly. “Okay! Be careful on the way~” As soon as you were out of sight, he opened his cubicle drawer and carefully plucked something red from inside the drawer.

Kuroo stood up from his seat, took a deep breath and straightened himself up. “Good luck, me… you can do this!” he said to himself before heading out.

He opened his lips. “L/N-san, I like you… ever since the day you were assigned to our department months ago. When I first laid my eyes on you, I thought I was blown away with your cute looks, but then I also witnessed your adorable personality that’s uniquely you. You’re charming, sweet, kind and down-to-earth—good traits that I love about you.”

Suddenly, he gently placed his hand over your head and ruffled your hair a bit. “I also love your clumsy side, too…,” he added teasingly, pulling his hand before you swat him away.

“L/N Y/N, I’d be more than happy if you would go out on a date with me.” Kuroo held your hand and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss while looking sincerely at you. Then he began to panic and pulled his hand away from yours, his face a flushing red. “A-ah, sorry! Was my confession straightforward? Did it weird you out?”

You giggled and shook your head in reply. “No, you didn’t… and I would gladly accept your offer for a date with you!” you said, happily accepting the rose from him before placing it together with the other ninety-nine red roses. “I’m also glad you’ve confessed that you like me… because I like you, too, Kuroo-san.”

Both Kikutani and Kuroo were stunned at your sudden confession, with the latter asking: “…you like me, too?”

You shyly nodded in response. “…it was also a love at first sight for me. You’re really sweet and always helping me out! A true gentleman… Also you made me giggle with that cute chemistry one liner you wrote on the card.” You brought the card to your lips and chuckled softly. “I love it!”

Cute… you’re so damn cute… I swear to God you’re gonna be the death of me, L/N-san, a blushing Kuroo thought, quickly clutching his chest to stop his heart from beating past the normal rate.

“Ah! I don’t know if you remembered but… you helped me before, during my first month here…” You then pointed at a nearby snack vending machine, and smiled at Kuroo. “You know, the stuck bag of chips?”

“Eh!? Is that you?”

“Mhmm… I was so hungry at that time—I forgot to bring my bento from home—and I couldn’t get myself to go out to the nearest restaurant without sacrificing my precious lunch hour,” you said to him. “So, I resorted to buying some chips at the vending machine for lunch. But just as I dropped some coins and turned on the knob, it stuck between the coil mechanism and the glass wall…”

“…that’s why I found you teary-eyed and kneeling in front of the machine and pounding your fists on it,” Kuroo continued, reminiscing about that fateful encounter with you. “Then, I remembered kicking one side of the machine and you get to eat that bag of chips…”

“I was so happy that time, and I was going to thank you but you’ve already left. I forgot to ask for your name or from which department you were part of. So…” You and Kuroo continued to chat some more for a while in front of the reception desk.

“A hundred red roses—‘a gesture of commitment and supreme devotion’...,” the now ignored receptionist murmured, sighing dreamily as she looked at the both of you getting all shy and lovey-dovey in front of her, chatting away.

Bonus, a few minutes later:

“Shoot! I forgot to finish signing the receipt form for the bouquet earlier.”

“What?”

Likes are okay (but useless), reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY MIKAGE-REHOE © 2023

#enchantedforestnetwork #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsurou fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kitty☆writes

[sgiandubh]

Whiskey, not whisky

Kentucky bourbon it is, for McTavish, as formally announced on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvxuLwXBDgt/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA%3D%3D.

Website, here: https://mctavishspirits.com/. Very instructive: The Sassenach vs. The Warchief. How original.

With a hefty pricetag. Heh, and Mordor thought the Sassenach was a rip-off?

The similarities apparently also extend to the marketing pitch: young, struggling actor dreams big, goes to the States, finds relative critical success there, walks down memory lane. And shares with the world his real, real passion he's "been working on for a while".

Yes. I am selling it. I don't have to pay for it, but... you do. Ugh. I have no words, wow. Oh, the entitlement and the smugness. Completely expected.

Let's unpack:

This is by no means or stretch of imagination a whimsical, vanity project and is carefully differentiated from a white label, which would have meant that the guy was basically lending his beard and voice to the (generic) product, in the hopes it will sell well enough and for as long as possible. No: it is, to quote the leaflet, "meticulously hand selected". Oh.

This is also a long-shot, well prepared blow:

Sorry: the website thinks I am a robot, even if there's just one and only R2D2 in our universe, but you should be able to get more details by yourselves. It is an LLC (easy-peasy, no hassle), filed on July 27 2023.

For the moment, the SM reactions are rather glacial. Sam's crowd is not amused, and with good reason:

I saw it coming, now the elephant is on the couch in the middle of the parlor and I have to say I am still perplexed, in a way, even if I shouldn't.

Sam's project is not the only thing he copies, btw. Check this out:

Yes, it's a Scottish brand I know absolutely nothing about (all input welcome), but still (http://thespiritscompany.com/portfolio/sir-mactavish-scotch-whisky/?age-verified=4b7d1b53bb):

McTavish, Sir Mactavish... Potato, potahto. In Europe, and specifically the EU , it would go to court for trademark infringement in 4, 3, 2, 1, especially since it could cause confusion, deception, or mistake. For comparison, Sassenach's German lost legal battle was sparked by way less than that: a mere partial homophony with the (obscure?) Sasse distillery in Schoppingen, somewhere in Westphalia (https://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/entertainment/celebrity/sam-heughan-loses-legal-battle-25578518 - this is the link I found first). But McTavish is clever enough to clearly go for the US market first and foremost.

And as a reminder, in S's situation, the European Union Intellectual Property Office (EUIPO)'s position has been particularly, and might I add, gratuitously, aggressive. I am intrigued enough and might get back to this in a separate post: don't hold your breath, though.

I still need to digest that and the question asked a couple of evenings ago remains open: what prompted S's sudden change of schedule? McTavish Anon might have been onto something, perhaps.

Tu quoque, McTavish? MIK, my earasaid. Now you understand why the sudden, subtle change on S's Twitter bio? Not only related to the SAG-AFTRA strike, I bet whatever you want on it (there's only a limited number of times I can bet my farm, heh).

[Much later edit, November 2023: It turns out this is an unashamed white label project. My bad for not immediately seeing it.]

#BoozeWars

[tiredly101]

Villains still need grocery too, y'know?

Pairing: Howdy Pillar x Villain!Male reader

Illustrated Au, this post was adopted from another account because they are deleting it soo I adopted it with permission of the original author, I did make some changes to adapt it to my writing style! Picture done by @clownsuu

Eggs. M/n needed eggs, badly. He had a brilliant idea to egg Home, that house had been getting on his nerves for a while now. Home had caused a ruckus whenever he’d spot M/n causing mayhem thus ruining some of his incredibly thought out pranks and so he decided to egg him.

Sure it may be unoriginal but sometimes the classics work the best and egging Home seemed like the perfect way to get him back for ruining such beautiful prank. The only problems is, the only way to get eggs is from Howdy. This would normally be no problem if one, Howdy didn’t know your very, very, extensive history of causing trouble and buying 50 eggs in one trip would definitely ring some alarm bells and two asking Howdy for that many eggs would be so embarrassing.

He would think you were a weirdo or maybe he didn’t have enough eggs and it would inconvenience him or perhaps M/n drops the eggs on the way out causing a mess. The idea of M/n making a fool of himself in front of Howdy was out of the question.

M/! was suffering until a brilliant idea popped in his head, he would send a letter to Howdy saying that one of the villagers overheard you wanted to bake a giant cake but didn’t have enough eggs so they wanted to deliver them to you, it was honestly a flawless plan.

That was until when M/n sent said anonymous letter to Eddie Dear for him to send off to Howdy, he decided to open it the second he got it. Which lead to a lot of confusion when the Wally Darling stood in his store buying a single apple seemed to request 50 eggs in his letter. Why wouldn’t Wally just ask while he was there?

"Hey Wally, do you just want your eggs now since your here?," Asked Howdy earning confused look from Wally.

"Eggs? What eggs, neighbour?," Wally asked with a dopey but perplexed look. "How odd...," Howdy thought.

If this letter wasn’t from Wally who could it be from? As the cogs in his brain started turning he came up with a solution, he’ll just come and give M/n the eggs himself! He had a bit of spare time and the shop was pretty quiet today so he decided he would grabs the eggs and bring them over to M/n house as a special delivery.

Howdy then started to make his way over with many crates in hands and he decided to peek through the window to see if M/n was at home. Instead he looked straight in to see a drawing pinned to the wall of a very familiar house with very obvious eggs covering it for head to toe or more specifically roof to floor and then it clicked. M/n wasn't making a cake, he wanted to egg Home and now he was very aware of your many pranks and mischievous deeds but actually seeing your plan he let out a sigh, he was looking forward to try your baking, he was sure it was great.

Although he had never been victim of one of your pranks, surprisingly may he add, he had seen and heard the results of many of them with the village constantly making a fuss and deciding that the prime gossip place was in his store. Howdy couldn’t stay mad at M/n though, although some pranks were more annoying than others he knew M/n never took it to far and quite frankly he found you rather sweet, always being on your best behaviour in his store.

Not to mention M/n was the most beautiful guy he ever encountered him but he couldn't be thinking of that right now, he should be telling M/n off for his evil plotting and as if by magic, sensing he was there, M/n opened the door.

Both, equally as shocked babbled messy excuses of what they were doing here although there was perfectly good reason for M/n to be in his house he still felt the need to tell him that he were plotting. Quickly realising his mistake M/n shut his mouth looking rather guilty until Howdy chuckled letting him know he knew what you were up to.

Shocked, mostly embarrassed, and guilty M/n profoundly apologised to him and instead Howdy just shushed you.

"It’s okay silly, just maybe instead of egging home make that cake? I’ll even help you with it," said Howdy and without hesitation M/n agreed leading Howdy into his house blushing as red as an apple and bringing out all you cake ingredients.

Part of M/n wanted this moment to last forever and the other part desperately wishing it would hurry up and end. The embarrassment was killing him but soon your worries melted away since as the cake was baking he took your hands in his and started swaying with M/n to music he had playing.

"Why do you never do any pranks in my shop?," Asked Howdy curiously while dancing softly with M/n and he smiled while looking up at him.

"Villains still need grocery too, y'know?," Said M/n which made Howdy smile softly and chuckle which made M/n's face be overtakes with a shy smile.

"Haha.. I think I prefer it when your not causing mayhem around the village, but then again it’s very endearing how silly you look when you do it," Howdy mumbled out catching both of them guard as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Howdy apologised quickly not wanting to offend M/n but he quickly reassured him with a soft kiss in his lips that you feel the same way.

"Perhaps villainy and entropy could wait if the alternative is happy moment like this with him"

#welcome home #Howdy Pillar x male reader #Howdy Pillar x reader #Tiredly Jackie writes #Tiredly Jackie adopt

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"I truly can't control my heart around you" (I think that's what it was lol) with Billy, plssss <33

hello anon that i definitely don't know irl 😉 i ~definitely~ haven't told you this already but i am so sorry it took me so long to post this. ily, thank you for being patient with me 🫶🏻

"The L Word" ~ B. Hargrove

Summary: When Y/N asks Billy why he likes her so much, his answer is a much different outcome than she'd expected.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,031

Content Warning: Billy smoking cigarettes, swearing, i think that might be it?

Genre: Fluff. i mean, i guess Angst if you squint but i'd say it's mostly Fluff.

Extra Notes: hmmm, none that i can think of right now!

Based On the Prompt: "I truly can’t control my heart when I'm around you."

Originally Written: between 09/17/22 and 09/19/22

Beta Read By: @reidsbookclub 🫶🏻

honeysuckleharringtons's masterlist can be found here!

ship prompts can be found here!

honeysuckleharringtons's ask box can be found here!

"Hey, how come you're so nice to me?"

This question had been prompted by what was probably seen as the smallest gesture in any other relationship—the simple act of Billy wrapping his jacket around my shoulders.

His right hand was laced with mine as the other held a cigarette, nearly dropping it as he registered my question. "What?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"I mean, I don't know of any other girl in Hawkins you'd willingly lend your favorite denim jacket to," I further clarified.

Billy was quick to bounce back with, "Well, no other girl in Hawkins is as smokin' hot as you are, now are they, pretty girl?"

Normally, I would've blushed at his usage of a nickname, but instead, I found myself letting out a light scoff. "Seriously?" I asked, sliding myself up further onto the hood of his car.

He continued to lightly lean against it, taking in a whiff of the mixture of night air and cigarette smoke. "Yeah, seriously. Everyone else is either a blonde bimbo or just looks like straight up dog shit."

I cut my eyes at him sharply. "Not what I meant."

He slowly raised the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale. He slowly exhaled, the smell of smoke quickly wafting into my nose. "You're not gonna let it go, are you?"

I looked at home straight faced, shaking my head.

He let out a deep sigh, his expression slightly softening. "You know… it's like… I…" he struggled to collect his thoughts.

"You OK? I didn't break you, did I?" I giggled, reaching up to run my hand through his hair.

He grabbed my hand mid-stroke, moving it to his chest. "You feel that?"

I could feel the light thumps through the white cotton that sat tightly against his skin. "Uh huh," I answered, unsure where this was going.

"That only happens when I'm with you."

"What? Your heart beating?" I asked sarcastically. "Because if so, you should definitely go see a doctor because your heart stopping that often is definitely not supposed to happen."

This time, he cut his eyes at me. "Not what I meant, smartass."

I looked over his face as he began to collect his thoughts once more. He licked his lips as he searched for words, his eyebrows ruffling in perplexity.

Finally, he spoke up once more. "I don't know… it's like, I can't really control my heart when I'm around you," he said, taking a long pause. Eventually, he continued with, "If I have to be honest, it kinda scares me."

"Bills," I started, my expression gentle as I moved my hand back to his hair, "I think what you're feeling is a four-letter word that begins with L."

Despite being together for a few months, I was the only one who'd ever said the L word. Ever since Billy was a kid, he'd had this misperception that love was rare—that it was something you had to earn, not something that was inherent in everyone. I tried not to push the L word on Billy, but I believed I'd loved him harder than I'd ever loved anyone before. What was the harm in telling him so? After all, even if he couldn't verbally say it, his actions said it—he loved me too.

He scoffed, raising the cigarette to his mouth once more. "I think I'd know if I felt that way, sweetheart," he commented before inhaling again.

I sighed, hopping off the hood of the car. "You know you're not as tough as you think you are, Billy Hargrove."

He rolled his eyes, a sarcastic look appearing on his face. He leaned in and exhaled, blowing smoke just inches away from my face. "And you're not as smart as you think you are," he replied, almost daringly. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"

I ran a hand along his chest, patting lightly. "Trust me, big boy, I've had you figured out since the second I saw you step out of this Camaro and into the parking lot of Hawkins High."

"Is that so?" he smirked, lingering ever-so-close to my face.

"Uh huh," I nodded, "And I've figured out that what you feel for me… it's called love, Hargrove."

He rolled his eyes, licking his lips once more. "You're not gonna let it go, are you?"

"Never," I answered, shaking my head. "I mean, I've been waiting months for you to say it. I don't get why you're so scared of it. It's just a word, it's not gonna hurt you."

"It's more than just a word, Y/N," he protested. "It's actions. It's showing someone that they deserve to be loved. You don't just go throwing the L word around like it's confetti. In my eyes, it has to be earned."

I moved my arms up, dangling them over his shoulders. "Are you saying I haven't earned it?" I inquired, one eyebrow cocked upward.

He took a deep breath, eyes wandering for a few seconds. "No, I suppose you have earned it."

The air stayed silent for a beat, a comfortable silence. He ran a finger through my hair lightly, brushing some loose hairs behind my ear. I would have stayed like that all night if the universe had allowed me to.

"So?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.

"So?" he replied, his tone filled with sarcasm.

"I think you owe me something," I stated, "A certain four-letter word, perhaps?"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Woman, you are so persistent," he chuckled.

"Thank you. I've heard my persistence is one of my better qualities," I told him, a giggle threatening to fall from my tongue.

He let out a long sigh, moving his hand back to my hair. "I guess I do—L word you, I mean."

I leaned in, placing my hands lightly against the material of his white tee shirt. I left a long and sweet kiss on his lips, feeling nearly dizzy when I registered that of all the mouths in Hawkins I could've kissed, I'd had the pleasure of kissing Billy's. "I guess I L word you too, Billy Hargrove."

-> Taglist: @ducky-is-dead-inside

#imagine #imagines #blurb #blurbs #one shot #one shots #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove blurbs #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove one shots #billy hargrove fluff #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things blurb #stranger things blurbs #stranger things one shot #stranger things one shots #stranger things fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #honeysuckleharringtons

[aristocratic-otter]

An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)

Thank you to @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian for the tag. I haven't done this one before

(Original Ask Game)

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I'll go with TikTok dancer, because it's one of only two I haven't published yet, and the other is my COBB so I can't give too much away on it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Simon Snow + the Pacific Ocean = Dancing Sea Lion

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

It is very very explicit. Simon is a slut in this one.

4. 🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Honestly? This is the only name I've come up with for it. I may change it, but I tend to be fairly resolute when it comes to my titles.

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?

Probably Cupid's Shield. I'll be updating Cupid's Shield and Saving Simon Snow in the next few days. The next chapter of Stars, Flowers, and Children ought to go up by Wednesday.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

I always save my docs under their title once I have the title. Before that, I call it by a descriptive phrase, like "cobb 2024" or "Tiktok AU"

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

Simon Snow is standing above me, looking at me with a perplexed expression. I quickly get my own expression under control. “Hello?” I say coolly.

“Baz,” he says, and my eyes widen. I wouldn’t have thought he’d remember my name, given the many similar encounters he must have had over the years. 

“Snow,” I say, neither encouraging nor discouraging this discourse.

For some strange reason though, his eyes light up at the sound of his name and he beams at me. “What?” I say sharply, confused.

He shakes his head and his curls fly about with the motion. “Nothing. It’s just, I like it when you call me that.”

That’s distinctly odd. Don’t people generally prefer to be called by their first names?

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I originally had this ending two different ways, and one of them was mpreg. I shifted away from that idea before I started typing though.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

My friend denticles (sorry, forgot your Tumblr user) gifted me an idea that involves Baz being a fanfic writer during the Watford years. I'm excited to start it, but I am determined to finish The Heart in The Well first.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

lol, you know me. Too many. 8 at the moment.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Not currently. I'm more fighting with deciding how detailed to make upcoming scenes.

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

🥰

I'll tag most everyone I know who (I think) has a current WIP, why not?

@iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @melodysmash, @onepintobean, @tea-brigade, @messofthejess, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @mooncello, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @best--dress, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @cutestkilla, @artsyunderstudy, @ileadacharmedlife, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @whatevertheweather, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @bookish-bogwitch, and @blackberrysummerblog 

#ask game #tag game #WIP #current wip #co/ws/awtwb

[ao3feed-zukka]

Words Written Down

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/ZKeHJ1I by winblack “I can actually help if you want!”, he said, excitement showing up on his features while he looked through the books, “Back in the Southern Air Temple, I met these two monks, Dronma and her wife, Amrita, they were like full Fire Nation Politics scholars, I learn a lot from the—” Zuko frowned, confusion covering his features, “You mean, his wife?”, he asked genuinely, Aang looked back at him, a bit perplexed. “No... Dronma and Amrita, they were both women, so her wife?”, the younger explained, his expression turning from light confusion to a moderate amusement, there was something unreadable deep in his eyes. Zuko looked a bit flustered when he talked again, “Yes, I mean, it does… it does make sense”. Evidently, the topic had caught him off-ward, he had raised the question without reasoning, just his ingrained education taking control of his brain. Agni, It was not like homosexuality was something outlandish to him. Not in the slightest. . . This story is placed one year after the war, and it is centered on Zuko dealing with the outlawing of homosexuality in the Fire Nation and Sokka dealing with his inner demons. Words: 12091, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Zuko's Crew (Avatar), Original Characters, Southern Water Tribe Characters (Avatar), Water Tribe Characters (Avatar), Fire Nation Royal Family (Avatar), Fire Nation Citizen(s) (Avatar), Fire Nation Royal Palace Staff (Avatar) Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Sokka, Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Aang & Katara (Avatar), Mai & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Suki (Avatar), Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar) Additional Tags: Idiots in Love, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko does Fire Lord stuff, LGBTQ Themes, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), Badass Toph Beifong, Angst and Feels, Fluff and Angst, Katara is So Done (Avatar), Sozin was bitter so he said being gay was wicked, Queer History, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, References to Indigenous Inuit Religion & Lore, Korean Religion & Lore, Politics, Law Enforcement, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Everyone Needs A Hug, Japanese Culture, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/ZKeHJ1I

#IFTTT #zukka #sokka #zuko #avatar: the last airbender #atla #ao3 feed

[perplexed-confusion]

#Brooklyn 99 #B99 #October #perplexed confusion original post

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek V?)

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

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

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

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

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

“Closer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

#yandere #neige lubanche #neige leblanche #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

[thebestofoneshots]

✩ Star :

very funny/makes jokes, sarcastic, can be closed off but only about backstory, sweet, can be cute but mainly sarcastic

slim with freckles on my back, 5’6-5’7ish [people putting they’re elbows on my shoulders like they’re a table or stand is shockingly hot okay 😭], short black hair, shockingly blue eyes that are apparently pretty

writing [fanfiction omfg], reading [romance novels]

open to polyamorous relationships

If you want to participate in "TBOS' 400 Followers Celebration" too, you can look at this post for all the options of prompts you can choose from <3

I ship you with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You have been friends with the boys since you started Hogwarts. You really enjoy hanging out with them, and they equally enjoy your company, especially because they find you absolutely hilarious, yet also very small? Sirius used to say you were like an evil squirrel, too cute to pose a threat, but with claws sharp enough to blind someone.

"Hey Moons," you said one day while chilling with him, both of you engrossed in reading your respective books, both of your feet rested on the boy's lap. Sirius lounged nearby, lost in his music.

"Yes, dove?"

"What do you think about poly relationships?"

"Poly… what?!" Remus asked, confused, peering up from his book.

Sirius laughed from the side, “Means you’re dating more than one person at the same time. Of course everyone is aware of it,” he explained. "Why the sudden interest, Fluffs?"

Sirius had playfully given you the nickname shortly after likening you to a squirrel. Originally it had been "Flufftail," but he thought it sounded to much like Wormtail and he didn’t want to aoscieate you with him, so he switched it to Fluffs.

"Oh, it's just this book," you said, indicating the one you held, "It's about a poly relationship. Seemed like an intriguing conversation starter."

"Well, I'd give it a shot," Sirius chimed in.

"Shocking!" you teased.

"Only with the right people, though."

"I've seen you hook up with plenty of girls, what do you mean 'the right people'?"

"Hooking up isn't the same as having a relationship, Fluffs. You'd know if you tried," he said, smirking and gesturing for you to come closer with a suggestive smile. Instead, you threw a pillow at his face.

"I guess I’d have to test it to give my opinion," Remus replied with a nonchalant shrug, returning to his book.

"I guess it's the same for me," you mused.

Suddenly, Sirius had an idea, a metaphorical lightbulb illuminating his brain. "Let's do it!"

"Do what?" you asked, perplexed.

"Let's test it, the three of us."

"Like a throuple?" you questioned with a slight frown.

"Exactly, a throuple!" he affirmed. "We'd be exclusive with each other and see how it goes."

"For how long?" you inquired, setting aside your book.

"Three months."

"You won't last three months without hooking up with someone."

"What do you mean without hooking up? I'd have both Remus and you! I could kiss your pretty faces whenever I want. Sounds perfect to me."

"Now you're just trying to charm me into it."

"And is it working?"

"A little," you admitted, smiling. "What about you, Remus?"

"Count me in," the boy responded, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

Long story short, those three moths extended into six, and those 6 into a year, and eventually you all decided that you'd just stay together, you just didn't want to go back to how things were before. Becasue this, this was perfect.

A/N: Hope you like this darling, I had lot's of fun writting it!

Sending you great vibes, Lilly xxx

MASTERLIST

#imagine #one shot #oneshot #marauders x reader #poly marauders #marauders era #marauders x you #marauders imagine #the marauders x y/n #moony #padfoot #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #wolfstar #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x y/n #sirius black fluff #sirius oneshot #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader #sirius x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus x reader #remus x you #Remus Lupin #sirius black #remus lupin x reader

[ghosttotheparty]

i’ll still be here after daybreak 3

originally posted on twitter // also on ao3 // prev

it’s not necessarily that steve thinks he has a ghost. but over the past few years, he’s learned to not rule anything out. he’s never thought that his house might be haunted before.

he doesn’t remember any sort of paranormal experiences when he was kid; after all, his house was built just a few years before he was born, and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard of any kind of burials or anything on the land the house is on. of course, hawkins is haunted in a way.

but this is different. the lights never flicker in the house, he’s made sure to check. but things keep moving.

nothing important, really. honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if all his concussions are finally catching up and are just fucking with his memory.

but it’s weird. his hairspray bottles keep finding their way to the ground while he’s out, even though he places them away from the edge of his dresser. the photos on the surface are seemingly rifled through, spread like cards. his keys are moved across his bedside table one day as he’s getting dressed. and then the ring, eddie’s ring, is knocked off the table, and for a moment steve is pissed, protective and defensive and kind of territorial.

that’s how it starts, at least.

little things. items moving across tables, falling to the floor, only ever in his room. and then he can’t find his keys as he’s trying to leave, already running late. and he finds them under the table, like someone’s playing a stupid prank.

when he’s gone, it (whatever it may be) stays in his room. messes with his hairspray and photos, knocks aside his shoes, tugs his towel down from te back of his door. but when he’s home, it seems to follow him around.

it never does anything while steve is looking. while his back is turned, glasses will be moved across the counter, or the remote will be moved to the other side of the sofa, just out of reach. it’s rude, really, but steve can’t really help but be amused.

and then he’s filling a glass of water. he’s tired, just woken up but feeling oddly fine, and he doesn’t notice the water is still warm from washing the dishes last night. he sighs, preparing to lift his hand, to tip his glass over to empty it and start over.

and then the faucet turns. all by itself. as he watches.

he doesn’t move, watching as it turns slowly toward the blue, as the water gradually clears as it falls into his glass. he blinks blankly. until he realises that his glass is overflowing now, and he’s just been staring.

he reaches out and shuts the water off, holding the glass over the sink as he continues to stare at it. it’s filled to the rim, the shape of his fingers distorting a little as the water ripples. his hand is shaking.

and he feels like someone is watching him. looking. staring. waiting. it’s like the room has filled with a mist, a haze, like it’s gone thick as he just stands here and looks at the water in his hand.

‘…thank you,’ he says quietly, his voice rough with sleep.

and the air seems to clear. like it is satisfied. content.

steve suppresses a smile as he leans toward the glass, lifting it to his lips.

so he talks to it. he knows it seems fucking insane, talking to air, but it also just feels… fine.

he doesn’t tell anyone else. robin seems to notice that he’s been more fine lately, but she doesn’t ask any questions, like she’ll jinx it or something.

and maybe he should tell someone. maybe it’s upside-down related, and it could be an early signal of the end of the world, but it doesn’t feel like it. whatever it is, it feels nicer, somehow.

and steve doesn’t think he’s alone in thinking it; el seems to notice that something is off the next time she comes over for a movie night. steve stops when he sees her in the hallway, looking into the dark.

she looks confused. her head is tilted like she’s listening for something, like she’s a perplexed dog. her eyes flicker across the hall for a few moments before they stop, and she stares, her expression unreadable like it usually is.

‘el?’ steve says softly. she startles. ‘you okay?’

she looks back down the hall for a moment, seeming to hesitate, and then she smiles up at steve, her expression clearing.

‘i’m okay,’ she says lightly. ‘where do you keep your extra blankets?’

‘there’s no way you guys need more blankets,’ he says, ignoring the way the stone is his stomach hasn’t gone away. el looks at him like a puppy again, pouting just the slightest bit.

‘please?’

steve rolls his eyes fondly.

‘there’s a linen closet down the hall.’

she beams and skips away without turning on the light.

steve watches for another moment, hesitating. the hall bends to the right, and el disappears after a second. the others are all in the living room; he can hear them all, laughing and bickering and bantering, but the air feels thick again.

the light at the end of the hallway turns on, and he sees it seeping into the dark. he can vaguely see el’s shadow, and it’s still for a few moments before she moves, reaches up to grab blankets, holding them to herself and then setting them down.

steve shivers. he can’t bring himself to move. there’s a weight that’s settled on his shoulders, kind of like he’s being looked at again, but different. like el is being followed. like steve needs to stay, just in case.

it’s stupid, he knows. there’s nothing there. it’s just an empty hallway. but he stays, watches the darkness desperately, the sounds of the others having fun muffled into silence as steve stands. and waits. and watches.

until el comes back, startling steve as she appears suddenly.

she’s carrying a pile of folded blankets, and she looks at him over them, eyes shining brightly, half-smiling.

‘are you okay?’ she asks lightly. he blinks.

‘uh, yeah.’ he glances back down the hall. the light is still on. ‘you got everything you need?’

‘yes. joyce says i like to be bundled up.’

‘i know you do,’ steve says. he reaches to wrap an arm around her shoulders and tugs her toward the living room, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see the light at the end of the hall turn off.

permanent taglist: @estrellami-1 @theplantscientist @spectrum-spectre @carlprocastinator1000 @starman-jpg @romantiklen @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @yourmom-isgay (comment to added or removed!!)

buy me a coffee <3

#working on an outline for this and i’m !! #i dont think i’m gonna put As Much effort as i do for my others (obviously the capitalisation and whatnot) #but also i’m writing each chapter as twitter threads so they’re shorter and stuff #anyway i’m having fun #steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #ghost eddie munson

[star-vessel1237]

What I’m made of... (Metal Sonic!Yuu )

Summary: What if Yuu was a clone of Metal Sonic? Chaos that involves a group of first years, a cat (kinda), and a somewhat overpowered robot.

Warning: Curse words, long post

(A/N: I ran a poll to see if you wanted a clone version or the actual version of Metal Sonic and the clone got picked. Either way, I’m going to be having fun writing this one. Now, onto the AU!)

So as for what kind of clone they are, Metal!Yuu is a clone made by G.U.N. to try and combat Metal Sonic and any future Eggman threats (Alt. option could be modified Phantom Ruby clone, but this makes more sense)

Either way, they have the strength and most of the powers of Metal Sonic along with a copy of his memories, but their unfinished and have none of the original Metal’s personality, if any at all

Metal!Yuu in other words is “an unfinished project”

The reason why they are unfinished (and thus not having all of Metal Sonic’s powers) is because they were made half-way through the war during Sonic Forces

They were sent for early field testing, but didn’t come back, deeming them a failure

But really they got isekaied to Twisted Wonderland by being hit by a carriage

When they got there, they immediately reawakened when Grim was burning the coffin to get out

Metal!Yuu broke down the door with ease and didn’t give Grim the time of day, their directive more set on finding out where they were

Grim only managed to catch up to them because they tripped on their robes (their only 3′3″ for pete’s sake)

Either way they were found by Crowley and were forced to go to the Mirror Chamber

Some of the students were a little confused, there was one more student and it seemed they were shorter than Heartslabyul’s housewarden

But then...

“Somebody, stop that raccoon!” That was all they needed to hear. The “lost student” then rushed out of the room, a cobalt blur picking up speed, as they dashed out of the chamber doors. Azul and Riddle being affected the most of the back lash of wind that followed after the “student” rushed past them.

“What in the world!” Azul exclaimed as the wind finally passed.

Crowley was perplexed by what he just saw, but was even more so when they saw the “student’s” ceremonial robes thrown to the floor. While most did take up a fuss about the action, their complaints about the mysterious first-year was quickly shut as they returned to the Mirror Chamber. In the same cobalt blur in wind that passed them, they heard the yelling of Grim as he was forced onto the floor and all of the students and staff got a good look at this new “student”.

When they were expecting a small human, it was instead a strange blue metalic looking robot. While small that didn’t make it look anymore dangerous as they held the small creature to the ground.

“W-well,” Crowely stuttered out, “you certainly are, unique.” The strange student let out a strange sound as if to respond. There were then screams heard as the whole chamber erupted into the chaos of yelling and questions.

Everyone had to be calmed down after the incident in the mirror chamber

Crowley also had to force Metal!Yuu and Idia into his office to figure out their origins, since you know, Metal!Yuu can’t really talk

Either way, Metal!Yuu ends up staying at Ramshackle in which they get along with the ghost, after they were convinced by said ghost to not blow up a new hole in the dorm

They also made Ace scared when they took the fireball that was flung at the Queen of Hearts statue like a champ, not even a burn mark was on their exterior

They’re just very good at being intimidating despite their small size

But when people started learning more about them, Metal!Yuu was actually quite harmless. Best described as both a dedicated machine that’ll follow any task and a curious soul who wants to learn more about the world around them (A child, they have the mentality of a child)

Metal!Yuu also “talks” via pencil and notebook, gestures (They're quite expressive), and sign language, until they get a voice box that is

Ace: Hey, what do we even call you anyway. I mean Metal’s cool and all, but I bet it’s tiring getting called someone-else’s nickname.

Metal!Yuu: *Makes a ‘kind of’ gesture with their hand*

Deuce: Well, have any ideas.

Metal!Yuu: ...

Metal!Yuu: *Writes down their deiced name in their notebook before showing it to the Braincell Duo and Grim*

Grim: Y-U-U. Yuu? Really, couldn’t have come up with something better.

Ace: Yeah, gonna have to agree with Grim here. Little boring don’t you think.

Metal!Yuu: *frustrated noise*

Deuce: Well if you like it. *sticks out hand to shake* It’s nice to properly meet you, Yuu?

Metal!Yuu: *Happy noise as they shake Deuce’s hand*

Bonus before closing off, they become the most close to Ortho as both try to find themselves and experience life

Okay, I’ll write more about this AU when I feel up for it since it’s the dead of night now. Either way hope you enjoy the AU!

#metal!yuu #twst au #twisted wonderland #yuu au #metal sonic #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst ace #twst deuce #braincell duo #grim #twst grim #crowley #twst crowley #twst ortho #ortho shroud #metal sonic au

[mycoolwritingcorner]

Ames

Written for Sailor Moon LGTBQ+ Week.

Day 6: Pet Names.

Ami is confused by what Makoto has been calling her.

@smlgbtqweek

----

“Hey Ames, you want anything while I’m in here?” Makoto called to Ami from her kitchen, having stepped away from their study session briefly to check on a pie she had in the oven.

Ami blushed lightly, before shouting back, “No, Mako, I’m fine.” Trying to focus back on her studies.

‘Ames’. It was what Mako had taken to calling her since they started dating. This had perplexed the blunette, was it meant to be a shortening of her name? It seemed to be, but… her name didn’t have a hard ‘A’ sound the way ‘Ames’ did.

Mako returned to the room, pie in her oven-mitted hands, “Alright, move the books over, we’re taking a pie break.” She said with a smile.

“Of course we are.” Ami said, moving the books off of Mako’s coffee table so she could set the pie down.

“Hey! C’mon now, I’ve been doing good! Don’t I deserve a bit of pie?” Mako said, looking at Ami with big puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, fine, fine! We can take a pie break.” Ami said with a smile.

Mako threw her arms around the smaller girl and planted a kiss on her cheek, “I knew you couldn’t resist me, Ames.” She said with a smile, before going back to the kitchen to grab plates, a knife and silverware for the pie, leaving Ami alone on the couch, blushing.

When Mako returned with what she needed, Ami finally asked the question which had been on her mind, “Why do you call me that?”

“Hm? What, ‘Ames’?” The brunette asked, looking up at her from cutting the pie.

“Yeah.”

“Uh… because it’s cute? Why? Do you not like me calling you that?” The green-eyed girl asked, looking a little sad.

“No no no! Nothing like that! I was just curious where it came from.” Ami quickly explained, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

“Oh, well, remember that time when that foreign exchange student mispronounced your name as ‘Amy’ and we all gave you crap for it for, like, a week?”

“Yes, of course, how could I ever forget how funny you all found a basic error in pronunciation?” Ami said, clearly unamused.

“Well, after we started dating, I remembered that and… I dunno, one thing led to another, and I just liked the way ‘Ames’ sounded.” Mako said, handing Ami a piece of pie.

“I see… why was that what you were thinking of after we started dating though?” Ami asked, confused how the two were connected.

“Oh, well, um…” Mako began, her face quickly turning red, “... well obviously everyone else already calls you by your name and well I… I just wanted something that was special for me.”

“O-oh, I see…” Ami said, also blushing, “So… like a pet name?”

“Yeah… I guess like a pet name.” Mako said with a smile, taking the first bite of her piece of pie.

“Aw, Mako… that’s so sweet.” Ami said, causing the auburn-haired girl to blush even more, “I feel bad though, everyone already calls you by the shortened version of your name so I can’t claim that for myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out, after all…” Mako said, wiping a stray bit of pie off of Ami’s face with her thumb, “... you are my little genius, right Ames?”

Ami turned beet red, but didn’t look away from her, “Y’know… I really love it when you call me that.”

----

Okay so... I can explain.

So, I’m not the biggest fan of the original dub, truth be told I don’t think I’ve seen more than one full episode of it. That being said... I have always had a soft spot for Mako calling Ami ‘Ames’, which originated in that dub. Obviously, the problem being that nickname only really works if her name is ‘Amy’ and not ‘Ami’ but y’know...

Look, if it wasn’t already clear, this fic was very self-indulgent.

But yeah, that was day six! This will be my last contribution to this event as I will not be doing a post for the free day, but I had so much fun participating, as well as seeing what other people made!

If you enjoyed my posts for this event, please consider checking out my other work, as well as leaving a comment, reblog, like, etc. on this one.

And until next time, take care everyone!

#smlgbtqweek23 #makoami #amimako #ami x makoto #makoto x ami #sailor mercury #sailor jupiter #ami mizuno #makoto kino #sailor moon #pretty guardian sailor moon #sailor moon fanfiction #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq