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Valkyrie Prologue

Summary: Seven feathers for seven valkyries. That is the price you must pay to the Crow of Fate's Keys for the chance at them reincarnating as mortals, living out mortal lives.

(sooooo new au! This one deals with death a lot, so lots of angst to be had. It's pretty heavily based on Valkyrie Profile, the first one. I have a soft spot for that game. So, yeah, it's not going to follow the plot of that game. I'm gonna be doing my own thing. It's mostly focused on the various lives everyone lives with you, the lone valkyrie, being the one to pick them up in the end. I love angst.)

“Seven feathers,” the Crow of Fate’s Keys said to you, stroking the plumes on your colorful wings, “In exchange for delivering these seven ignorant souls onto the mortal plane, in exchange for opening this door of reincarnation just for them, I must have seven feathers.”

You sat upon a hill, looking over the vast and luscious landscape of Midgard you have come to regard as precious to you. As home, even though it was so foreign to you. “Is that truly all I have to pay? Would the price not be higher for meddling with fate so, Crow?”

He knelt down, cradling your hand in his own, decorative claws cool against your skin. “Whether or not they cross that door will be up to them. For any other person, I would ask for more. But for you, well, I have many, many favors to repay to you. Is my generosity really so hard to believe, dear?”

Is it not right for one to question everything that he does? Is it not within your right to hold caution against a crow that picked upon the corpse of Fate, stealing their keys, and become owner of them? He is a crow who picks upon carrion. And these souls, however hateful you may find them, are perfect meals.

And yet, he was the very same crow you cradled upon the end of the previous world. The world you were once a part of. You both, older than the kingdoms and gods that lay within these realms, are entirely separate from all else. You trust in him as much as he trusts in you, as fellow beings that witnessed the decaying corpses of this world.

“No, it’s not.” You spread your wings, fluttering the multi-colored plumes until seven distinct light fell from them. With a single beat, you guided them to your lap. “I know you too well. Even without asking, you would give your all to me. Seven of my feathers, correct?”

“Not yours. I would never ask for your plumes.” Dire picked up the seven lights in one palm, “I need their feathers. The ones you claimed for your own. The feathers imbued with their power.”

“Then pluck as you please.”

A red feather, for the Tyrannical Valkyrie.

An orange feather, for the Rebellious Valkyrie.

A white feather, for the Merchant Valkyrie.

A wine red feather, for the Tactical Valkyrie.

A lilac feather, for the Beautiful Valkyrie.

A blue feather, for the Guardian Valkyrie.

A green feather, for the Draconic Valkyrie.

“Only seven feathers, huh?” The price baffles you still. “You do too much for me, Dire.”

“And you do too much for seven valkyries you have slain yourself,” even with this truth laid bare to you, Dire does not condemn you. There is only amusement. “Does striking down your fellow kin not bother you?”

“Does my answer matter?” Winged or not, their intentions have been clear to you. You struck down not allies who you confided in, but arrogant gods who do not hold respect for the mortals lives on Midgard. They cared not for the horrible aftermath that comes with Ragnarok, they only cared for building the armies of the higher gods they served.

They only cared for victory. Their focus solely laid upon the empty throne.

With their powers striped away, with their memories sealed away, you will have them live mortal lives. They will see their beginnings, they will see their ends. They will suffer, they will live in bliss. They will see it all.

And once they have learned their lesson, only then will you give back what remains.

“No, I suppose not.” Dire held the lights close, making sure they don’t fall.

“Then fly away, Dire.”

“Will you wait for little old me?”

“No, not this time.” Voices, death cries, the ends of heroes and human lives. You can hear them. For the first time since the end of your world, you can hear them.

They are waiting.

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twst boys as babysitters

♯— leona kingscholar, malleus draconia, vil schoenheit

summary: cheka comes to visit leona! instead of being a responsible adult, leona throws the burden onto you … and the poor unfortunate soul that happened to be with you at the time. tldr; twst boys as babysitters

cw: established relationship, gender neutral reader, crack & fluff, sfw. not proof read. wc: 1.5k+

leona kingscholar

• “oi, herbivore. got you something.” leona calls, dragging his feet into your room, hands hidden behind his back. “early birthday present. keep this one forever.”

• oh dear

• now you’re no stranger to receiving gifts from your boyfriend (though he won’t admit that he likes to spoil you) but something about his tone makes you worry.

• surprise!!!! he raises cheka above his head, who squeals with delight at the motion, making grabby hands when he sees you. you’re his favourite person after his uncle leona, after all!

• cue a moment of silence … you’re staring at leona, he’s staring at you … and cheka … is still raised in the air.

• “leona, stop dumping things on me all the time.”

• “but he likes you. take care of him for me.” : which actually means ‘he’s disturbing my sleep and i need to get him off my back.’

• you refuse, obviously, and propose that the pair of you babysit together. you’re meeting him halfway.

• leona agrees too quickly. perhaps he wants to spend time with you—and okay, maybe he missed cheka too. the little brat.

• there is something so endearing about the way leona interacts with his nephew

• leona, who has an abundance of smarts and strength, is nothing more but a flickering candlelight when put against the blazing fire that is cheka kingscholar.

• his power knows no bounds.

• if you’re stuck with these two, expect a lot of play-fights

• leona complains and verbalises very often how annoying it is, yet never bothers to physically remove cheka off him. he simply takes the hits, feigning pain afterwards.

• “that really hurt. i’m tired now.” leona, be for real. just admit you’re a softie

• but beware. if he’s in the mood, he might fight back. and leona shows NO mercy.

• it doesn’t matter that cheka is a child! he’s preparing him for the REAL world

• oh boy, here come the crocodile tears

• when cheka is tired out, it’s time for leona’s favourite time of the day.

• no, not lunch time, nap time!!!!

• you know the saying two’s company, there’s a crowd? you’re spooning on a bed that’s definitely not made for three.

• leona’s arms are strung loosely around your waist, his head in the nook of your neck

• cheka is curled up in a little ball against your chest

• it’s kind-of a squeeze, but it’s also comforting, their soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room

• until cheka wakes up again, and this time he has his eyes on another opponent.

• you.

malleus draconia

• you’re trying to introduce malleus to your favourite shows, and he’s slowly getting into them as well

• in fact, maybe he’s teleported outside your door in order to find out what happens in the next episode of the said show, and not because he wants to be with you.

• he rings the door once, then twice, then thrice, but you don’t show up

• he knows you’re a busy person, so he tries his hardest to be patient. either way, he’s certain he’d wait eons for you if that’s what you asked him to do.

• when you turn up with leona’s nephew in his hands, he …

• well, he doesn’t do anything at all, actually

• he doesn’t even ask about it. you guys just carry on and sit in ramshackle as if everything is normal.

• like hello???? are we going to address the furball other than grim in the room or not?

cheka: *scratching malleus’ horns like they’re ears*

malleus: ???? This Is Fine.

• the truth is he’s scared

• he’s malleus draconia, a fae feared by all—rendered immobile by a child attempting to swing from his horns.

• you’re shocked he’s just letting it happen… he’s just sitting staring at the tv screen as if nothing is bothering him, but his whole body is visibly tense.

• cheka is a talkative kid, and malleus is fascinating to him, so he just has so many questions! “why are you so tall?” “are you really a fairy?” “why don’t you look like the ones in storybooks?” “are your horns even real?”

• “i don’t know. why don’t you check for me?” it’s an invitation for cheka to go wild, to do as he pleases

• except malleus is NOT smiling, so it goes unnoticed

• cheka is like :3 and malleus is like : |

• malleus doesn’t want to scare the cub away, he wants to chat with him! he wants to play!!!

• but he lacks the verbal skills to communicate properly

• he thinks back to silver as a young boy and finds a way to keep cheka entertained

• “little lion, would you like to spar?”

• malleus, no!!!!???

• silver may have been training at a young age, but this is different. he was not raised by two fae.

• despite your desperate pleas, cheka agrees.

• malleus is grinning, a rare sight—its giddy and goofy and so youthful, you don’t have the heart to stop them

• they sit crossed-legged on your bed with spoons for swords, violently clashing against each other

• malleus is REALLY serious about it, though. he’s smiling, but he’s also teaching cheka at the same time

• “good one.” “this is your opponents’ blind spot.” “you should try this on your uncle leona.”

• oh.

• you’re starting to think he’s doing this purposely.

• but this is the most fun you’ve seen him have in a while, so you suppose leona will just have to pay the price of leaving cheka in your care.

vil schoenheit

• why on earth is leona’s nephew sitting in pomefiore’s lounge, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?

• he has half the mind to curse out leona next time he sees the beastman, but then you appear behind him.

• his frown and his thoughts falter a little. (his lips subconsciously pull upwards into a smile whenever he’s around you. it really is a bother that he cannot control his emotions better, considering he’s an actor.)

• “did you bring him here?” he points at cheka, voice accusatory, but lacking any bite.

• all he wanted was to spend time with you. now he’s plagued by some child who didn’t even know the basic instruction ‘sit.’

• upon closer inspection, he shrieks and moves backwards from cheka quickly.

• “prefect, where are his shoes??”

• “…”

• you’re joking, right? please tell him you’re joking.

• “so you’ve been having him walk around OUTSIDE barefoot?”

• “he’s just … one with nature!” you laugh lightly to quell his anger.

• he is not laughing. not this time.

• Mother Nature may be smiling down on Cheka, but Vil Schoenheit is not.

• his feet. his FEET.

• those feet have been walking all over the school, who-knows-where, and now they were padding across his previously immaculate carpet. holy seven, he thinks he sees the shape of a foot-print staining the floor already.

• that’s it. it’s bath time, he declares, demanding you to swoop the child into your arms and follow him as fast as you can to the en-suite bathroom in his dorm room.

• it’s already a battle alone trying to get cheka into the bathtub. cheka hates water, mewing, thrashing his body about and scrunching his nose like a bratty kitten.

• but fear not. you’re lucky your boyfriend vil is an esteemed warrior in the sense that he has had plenty experience getting messy kids to behave (*cough*, epel)

• get your tickets for Queen vs. Future King Of Sunset Savanna NOW!!! they’re going at it like it’s wordstar

• once he’s in the bathtub, things are a lot more calm.

• vil is … surprisingly sweet? his voice is gentle and soothing as he works away humming to a tune you’re unfamiliar with, assuring you that you can sit back and relax.

• you’ve never seen him interact with children before, but you realise he acts as he does with everything else he cares about—practical and meticulous—although he can be harsh at times, he has good intent.

• perhaps it’s the atmosphere of being around someone so young rubbing off on him, but he’s a tad playful, styling cheka’s hair in funny ways with shampoo. at one point cheka’s hair stands so tall above his head, it may rival malleus’ height. just kidding, but you get the point.

• afterwards, he lets cheka use his favourite scented creams, as a reward for being good. the plethora of items displayed on his vanity was more than enough to make anybody with a penchant for self-care jealous.

• cheka is overjoyed, his sense of smell heightened compared to you and vil, who were only human. the different scents around him are stimulating; he’s content having vil place pea-sized pumps of cream in the palms of his hand.

• “smell.” vil orders. he waits for an opinion: “smells fruity, like oranges!” which is about as much descriptive lingo a five year-old can muster up before repeating the process all over again.

• you had to stop cheka from trying to eat vil’s products several times

• “yes, it smells like summer fruits with a dash of honey drizzled over and a side of fat-free greek yogurt, but it doesn’t taste like it!”

• to anyone else it may have seemed quite strange, but to them, it was exciting.

• at the end of the day, vil may not have edible treats to give to cheka, or the will to play-fight, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.

TWST SECOND-YEARS AS SCHOOL CRUSHES

summary ♯ as title states, the boys as school/college crushes… inspired by some real crushes i’ve had

details ♯ azul, ruggie, riddle, silver × gender neutral reader, sfw, unedited. 1k+ words

azul ashengrotto

• the academic rival. he always had to have the higher grade, even if it was by a single percent. you got 98% on your last exam? you can’t celebrate, because azul got 100%

• your teachers are always poking fun at your academic rivalry. they ship you. “stop flirting!” “we aren’t sir, this is simply a heated argument between intellectuals!!!!”

• the whole class know about it too. the incessant little comments after one of you raise a hand, the shared looks across the classroom...everyone rolls their eyes when you’re against each other in a debate because it’s likely the lesson will go overtime.

• it irritates you how you cannot best him in anything, and how he still flashes you that same annoyingly charming smile each time you clash. you’re just waiting for the moment where you finally outclass him… and you do. except it doesn’t feel as rewarding you hoped it would feel.

• you’re both in different gym / p.e classes, but your teachers decide it’d be a fun activity to get both groups together for a game of cricket.

• strangely, azul was quiet. he didn’t greet with you a snide remark. he didn’t spare you a single glance. instead, he stayed huddled in the corner of the field, scratching at his arm anxiously. you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong. not that you’re worrying about him

• after a failed attempt of bargaining with a stubborn teammate, azul had to bat. you were pitching, so you were against each other as usual.

• you’ve never seen someone fail at hitting so badly. everyone is laughing and the gymbros are yelling at him to run, so he does, but it’s honestly more like stumbling, and oh. he’s running in the wrong direction. towards you.

• his cheeks are flushed beet red (due to embarrassment or breathlessness, you didn’t know) he doesn’t ever meet your eyes properly again. he stops teasing you, too.

• is it wrong that you miss it?

ruggie bucchi

• food hogger. this guy always, without fail has some sort of food on him. you see him in the morning? toast in his mouth. midday? two donuts. even in class, he’s snacking, not even trying to hide how obvious it is with the loud smack of his lips and happy hums right in your ear.

• it’s worse because he sits right next to you, and he doesn’t even offer to share. this boy is greedy, teasing you and taunting you by waving a chocolate bar in your face only to open it and plop it into his own mouth with a cackle.

• at lunchtime, you’ll see him skipping the line using the excuse that he’s friends with some popular third-year. you’ll be seconds away from getting the last cookie and all of a sudden ruggie swoops in, claiming that this friend of his wants it. (if that was true, why did you see him eating it minutes later?)

• as annoying as he is though, sometimes—and only sometimes!—he’s alright. when there’s days you’re feeling down, or when you don’t do well on a test, you’ll find a snack in your seat. the same treat you know he buys. it’s a silent way of comforting you without outwardly saying it. he likes you because you don’t snitch on him, and you like him because he’s funny, despite his loud chewing.

• sadly, he’s just too busy for anything real to develop. you don’t know what he does in his free time, but he’s always running around. you suppose it’s none of your business, and before you can ask anyway, you’re assigned a new seat-mate.

riddle rosehearts

• goodie-two-shoes. you’ve never seen someone who’s as much as a stickler for the rules as he is.

• now you’re not necessarily a bad student, but this guy makes you feel as though you are. if you’re chewing gum in class, beware. don’t let riddle catch you otherwise you’re taking a trip to the trash can before he can raise his hand and tell on you.

• he’s not only a snitch, but also thinks he’s right all the time. you feel a headache coming on with all his yammering.

• he reminds the teachers about homework, even when he knows you haven’t done it. and then blames it on your incapability to manage time well.

• the one time he forgets his homework, you almost want to tell on him, but he looks so pitiful you can’t. he’s on the verge of tears, talking about ‘handing himself in’ as though he were a criminal. you sigh and tell him he can copy.

• at first, he refuses, but as the day drawls on he finds you at lunch and sits next to you for your answers. everyone is surprised at his actions, and he seems surprised at himself too, a constant pink tint all over his cheeks. you have to actually teach him how to copy properly: “no, don’t copy this word for word. and yes, i promise this is correct.”

• you can tell how guilty he feels and reassure him that it seriously isn’t the end of the world. the next morning, you find your favourite drink on your table. his behaviour becomes more mellow with you after that. he scolds you lightly, tutting quietly when having to fix your collar. he’s almost sweet—

• but he’s still a snitch.

silver

• you’re certain this dude could sleep anywhere.

• the first time you met, he was in a deep slumber, lightly snoring with his head planted in a study guide. afraid he’d get caught, you start placing a book in front of him to cover the fact he’s sleeping from the teacher. it ends up becoming part of your routine.

• you’re not sure he even notices you’ve been doing it, but you don’t mind. silver is super sweet, always collecting worksheets for you and putting it on your desk, saving you the trip, or offering you snacks in class when you’re hungry. he smells of comforter and fresh laundry—honestly, his presence alone makes you feel lethargic yourself.

• you muster up enough courage up to ask if he’s getting enough sleep. you’d be more than happy to help him out, recommending coffee or melatonin gummies, but he tells you it’s just something he’s always dealt with, that frustratingly will not go away.

• you now try to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep in class, conversing with him more or poking him gently with your pen. for that he’s grateful, being sure to return the gesture when you’re tired. (but if you’re super exhausted, he’ll let you sleep, making sure you’re as comfortable as you can be.)

• some mornings, he even buys you a warm drink alongside his coffee… well, it wouldn’t be for you if silver had remembered to give it to the person he had intended it for, the name malleus draconia scrawled across the cup printed very clearly.

• you have no idea who malleus draconia is, but you hope he doesn’t mind you stealing his latte & his silver-haired friend for a while.

© mthra | masterlist

the tropification of our vacation jamil viper x reader

summary: You and Jamil go on a vacation together as friends, and unsurprisingly leave as something more.

author's note: jamil in a hallmark movie except it's not christmas. i put a good amount of tropes in this hence the title, but also tried to subvert them in small ways.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, friends to lovers, childhood friends, 7.7k+ words, not beta read, slight spoilers for the al'ab nariya event

you can also read this on AO3

THAT TROPE WHERE TWO FRIENDS WHO’VE CRUSHED ON EACH OTHER FOR YEARS END UP ON A TRIP WITH JUST THE TWO OF THEM

“I know I’ve already told you this over the phone, but I really can’t get over it. Your sister just comes up to me and demands I buy plane tickets from her because something urgent came up, and that the trip she was supposed to go on is in two weeks and it’s going to be with you .”

“Should I apologize for her?” Jamil asked, a small huff of laughter leaving his lips. “Although… Why does it sound like you don’t want to go on a trip with me?”

“Of course I do. Would I be here if I didn’t?” There was no hesitation with how fast you countered him, even though you must have known he was merely joking. “I don’t just shell out my hard-earned money for anyone.”

So he’s still someone you deem special. Or maybe you were referring to Najma, who you’ve always liked to joke was your favorite Viper. Either way you being here, about to board a plane with him, meant you still enjoyed his presence to a high enough degree. 

“It’s a little funny though. We don’t see each other in person for almost half a year, then I come back to Silk City and next thing you know I’m leaving again for a vacation.” Jamil had thought the same as you. When you told him you were back in the city, he had begun making arrangements to ask for a leave of absence to meet up with you again. It seemed that was unnecessary, however, with his sister telling him you would substitute her on their planned sibling vacation.

“But I don’t mind,” you added swiftly, likely anticipating another comment from him, “I’m always happy to be able to take a break.”

It was a statement difficult to debate because he happened to feel the exact same way. 

Jamil was never really one for joy, never really thought he could receive it in more than fleeting, bite-sized portions. He simply asked for relaxation, and there he would receive contentment.

And yet, strangely, Jamil found himself feeling unusually giddy despite it all. It would be classified as a rare instance of happiness, all because he got the opportunity to travel with you.

Don’t get him wrong, he would have been just as happy (and certainly feel less unsure of himself) should his sister have not backed out of their trip, but all the same he could not help being in high spirits at getting to have some time alone with you. It was to a point that he dreaded how happy it made him feel, even just the thought of you, knowing once he had you in his head it would be difficult taking you out of it.

Not that he minded too much. Fanciful daydreams revolving around you were much preferable to dwelling on the misfortunes of his past, or the hardships that would aid to the attainment of his ideal future.

“But, you know, Najma…”

What he would like to take out, however, was your need to continuously mention his little sister, as if the two of you had nothing else to talk about. Jamil will actually be driven crazy if you bring her up again and again throughout the rest of the trip. With the way the conversation has been going, was he your childhood friend or not?

“If it has to do with my sister, I probably know it already,” he sighed, already tired of the repetitive conversation. He wanted to catch up with you , and while he held a heavy reluctance in letting you know about his feelings any time soon, he was just going to have to be upfront and nip this particular problem in the nub. “You’re acting as if the two of us haven’t been friends for years. Let’s stop talking about her and talk about something else.”

Not that Jamil knew what exactly something else was, but as long as he got out of that zone, he was willing to go along with whatever conversation topic you wanted.

“Then, do you mean we should talk about us? ” Reflexively, Jamil brought his hand up to tug at his hood, only to realize the turtleneck he was wearing lacked one—and it would be stupid and incredibly obvious what he was attempting to hide had he pulled up the collar instead. “That’s what people typically say after that kind of line, right?”

“How should I know? Do I look like the type to have a romantic bone in my body?” Your immediate answer should have been no. He knew himself just as well as he knew people’s perceptions of him—he was the type who appeared to give little thought about love and such, someone much too focused on their career. His thoughts may beg to differ, but his actions spoke louder. You probably knew that just as well.

"Who knows? Things change when people get older. Maybe you actually decided to give dating a try while I was gone.” You suddenly paused, throwing him a serious look, as if something about the words you spoke had just caught up to you. “Are you seeing anyone? As in, seriously?”

This was not where Jamil thought the conversation was going to go.

“No. I’ve been too busy,” already being in love with you, so it would just be a waste of time trying, “but why do you want to know?”

Was this Jamil trying to find any information that would allow himself to let his feelings grow further, to encourage him to eventually take action to make you his? He supposed he needed to be more certain.

“It would be troublesome,” you began slowly, now more careful with your words than you had been before, “if you had a partner and they found out you were going on a trip. Alone with a friend they have never met before. I don’t want misunderstandings.”

“I don’t like misunderstandings either,” he agreed. Though it was not the most desirable answer, he appreciated your constant consideration for him. Besides, it gave him the opportunity to return the question. “Since you already asked me, let's clear it up completely now. You… are you in a relationship?”

Jamil relaxed his face as much as possible, rendering himself to a neutral state regardless of what your answer would be, but he could not deny the inward relief he had felt when you shook your head no. 

“I was also too busy. I had no plans of getting into one when I would return to Silk City.”

Return to Silk City, and return to him.

If Jamil had so much as shown a trace of delight at the revelation, you didn’t point it out, although you did look awfully pleased as you boarded the plane. Jamil didn’t point that out either, knowing you would simply blame your excitement for the trip, knowing he would be a hypocrite mirroring you.

THAT TROPE WHERE TWO GOOD FRIENDS PRETEND TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP

It was inevitable, really, but he had wrongly assumed that people would at least ask before, well, being upfront with their assumptions about him and you. 

That had not been the case.

It began at the airport, some time after the plane had landed and everyone scrambled to find their luggage. 

An incredibly gaudy, brightly colored bag might be most optimal for situations like this, but Jamil had been more concerned with keeping his belongings safe, so he figured some stickers and his uniform tie from back in college tied to the handle would be distinguishable enough.

It was, but the same couldn’t be said for you. Even though you insisted no one would mistake your bag for theirs, someone had gotten your luggage and took off.

Jamil wasn’t going to start an incident in a foreign country, he probably would have felt more inclined to do so in his homeland, so he was going to run on the assumption this really was a mix-up. For his sanity and yours.

The man had apologized to him, not that Jamil completely bought that it was an accident, before turning to face you once Jamil pointed out that he was apologizing to the wrong person.

“Of course, I’ll apologize to your partner as well.”

That was what started it. 

Well, no. People have been teasing him about you for a while—people meaning Najma, who was the only one who had managed to sniff it out (like he would ever tell anyone he had feelings for someone)—but certainly a first in a foreign land of all places. Were people always so quick to assume out here?

Jamil blinked, then quickly shrugged any surprise off. What was the point of correcting a stranger anyway?

“Yes, we’d appreciate that.”

The second must have been only half an hour later, with the two of you deciding to catch a cab on the way to the hotel. The only time he would do so, he told himself, considering how much cheaper it was to ride other forms of public transportation as opposed to taxi cabs, but he was tired, you were tired; he would just have to close his eyes at the amount.

“So where are you and your boyfriend heading off to?” He side-eyed you, wanting to see how you would react to the question, to him getting called your boyfriend. Surprisingly, you responded the same way he would have—not caring to dispute the claim.

“Twisted Hotel, the one along Nocturne Street.”

The driver let out a low whistle. “Not the best, but worth the buck you spend. Should be fine if you plan on spending most of your time outside.”

“Mhmm. No point in going on a vacation just to stay locked up in your room, is there?” Jamil added, a seemingly agreeable statement. 

“You got that right. I’ll say, a downright shame to not make the most of the trip…and speaking of,” the man turned his head to face both him and you, a knowing grin present on his face, “let me tell you lovebirds the best places to visit. Real romantic ones, the ones that aren’t tourist traps. Cheaper, too. Got to help the local economy, you know.”

You looked at him, waiting for him to judge the situation. This was either some well-meaning man or a man looking to promote someone he knows happens to own. Or a man looking for a tip. Of course, Jamil’s not stupid, so a quick calculation and conversion would be enough to know a scam at first glance.

“Real good place to eat lunch two streets away from TwisTel. My aunt…” Second option then. Well, not like he couldn’t respect a family business, “... and, of course, couples get free dessert. Authentic , not mass-market. What’d you say?”

Oh. No wonder they were getting promoted to. He’s familiar enough with these kinds of deals—there was a café on his old campus that pulled the occasional buy three, get one for free promo that always caused suckers to come in big groups. Jamil just had to wonder if this would have happened had either one of you denied that you were dating him, or if some other promo would have been thrown your way instead.

“We should probably check-in first, but just tell us the name and we’ll drop by when we get hungry.” Jamil had to smile at that. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had caved in, but it was always better to make your own choices rather than be trapped in one.

Well, even if you said yes, he could always drag you along to make a run for it if it turned out to be a scam. 

Sure wouldn’t be the first time.

Just like how it wouldn’t be the first time the two of you got mistaken for a couple, because a couple of times had suddenly increased to a little more than so with the receptionist adding to the mix. To be fair on her end, it was partially his fault. It’s easy to connect unlabeled dots.

“Who knew the Vipers would be so young…”

“We get that a lot,” he said, like a liar. He thought he at least looked his age, but he knew that alone wasn’t what she was referring to. For starters, Najma wasn’t there to fill up the expected Viper ratio. He also didn’t disclose that his sister was his original travel companion, because why would the hotel need to know that?

“It’s such a shame we’re fully booked. I’m sure the two of you would prefer a different room.”

“We’re just glad to have a room in the first place.” Not wishing to talk anymore, it was only about time he’d get asked if they were celebrating some kind of honeymoon or anniversary, he took the keys on the desk and left with his luggage, you in tow. 

“That was pretty smooth, you know,” you said, not caring too much in keeping up the pretense now that the two of you were out of earshot. Although it could be argued that neither he nor you did anything to pretend in particular, more so just going along with the circumstances granted. “I’m surprised you didn’t counter anyone though.”

“Well, I went along with it because I don’t want to have to spend more time explaining to people what we really are.” There was also the side piece of information that you’ve secured a place in his heart for years, but that piece of knowledge was better kept away from you. If not forever, then at least until the trip ended. “But what’s your excuse? The taxi driver asked you first.”

“Um, the same thing? Like what you said, what’s the point of telling irrelevant people that we’re actually not together like that but travelling together. It overcomplicates things.” The two of you were on the same page. That was… good. 

“But you don’t hate it right?” you suddenly asked, momentarily concerned for him. “If it makes you uncomfortable to be seen as my–”

“I don’t hate it,” Jamil interjected, which might have been the most truthful thing he’s said since getting in that cab. “I don’t like how people assume things about us, but it has nothing to do with you. I don’t feel ashamed of it at all.” 

And you needed to know that, lest you find yourself misunderstanding something. Yes he’d rather you not know what he felt about you right now, but he’d also prefer that over you thinking he disliked the idea of being your partner. The truth was the farthest thing from it, really.

Fluster-inducing, but not embarrassing. 

“And you? Are you okay with this?” he asked in return. If you said no it would probably hurt more than just his ego, but he would understand. It wouldn’t deter him from enjoying his time with you either way.

“Of course,” you replied, with a peculiar gleam in your eye. It was as though any traces of reluctance and discomfort had been shaken off of your person, in which only excitement remained. “It’s you, so of course I am.”

THAT TROPE WHERE THEY FIND A WAY TO INITIATE NOT-SO PLATONIC PHYSICAL CONTACT

It was cold this time of the year. Not the coldest month, not freezing temperatures, but still cold. Jamil knew this, for it was the exact reason he had chosen to travel here at this time of all times. He could always appreciate not just a change of scenery, but a change in weather as well.

Also, it was extremely hot in the Scalding Sands right now, so he was not experiencing the least bit of weather envy.

Of course Jamil also wasn’t the type of mad man to walk through the snow in one layer of clothing, he knew his body wouldn’t be able to handle it, so he dressed properly for the area. 

Not everyone got the memo.

“I’m still mostly dressed properly,” you countered, gesturing to the rest of your attire. Indeed you had a sweater, one a shade of red he thought matched your complexion well, and a coat he remembered haggling the price down for you at the markets.

But where were your gloves?

“Mostly, meaning you still forgot something,” Jamil sighed, watching you stuff your hands down the pockets of your coat for some relief. It didn’t feel right to just grab your hands and check—it wasn’t like the two of you were pretending for anyone right now, not with the two of you just roaming the streets—but they looked cold.

“We even went through the checklist together the night before we left. How’d you forget?”

“I didn’t leave it on purpose . Gloves are small and easy to misplace. I forgot them—either I find them miraculously tucked in some compartment, or I go buy new ones during the trip.” What’s done is done , you were essentially saying, but he was going to disagree. He knew himself, and he knew he would keep glancing down at your hands to check if they were shivering for the rest of the afternoon if he didn’t do something about it.

The logical thing to do would be to find the nearest clothing store, or maybe a stall at some bazaar that sold gloves made with warm fabrics and local designs, but making use of logic was difficult in the face of an opportunity.

Again, not that Jamil was aiming for anything in particular. It was just… an instinctive decision. 

“Give me your hand,” he paused, and then reworded it, “Hold out your hand.”

He thought you would question him, and maybe you were doing just that in your head, but you did so without asking him why. Maybe you didn’t ask because you already knew what he was doing, that he would take off one of his gloves and place it atop the palm of your hand, your fingers immediately clasping the knitted material.

He had given it to you for you to wear, but you weren’t doing just that. For what must have been half a minute you merely stared at it, as though you were contemplating its texture, or perhaps its size.

“You don’t have to wear it. If you don’t like how it fits you, you can just hold it between your hands. It should give your hand some semblance of warmth regardless.”

As long as your hands were at least a little warmer, what did it matter if one hand of his had grown colder than the other? He could just make do like you had been moments ago and shove one hand down a pocket, maybe grab a warm beverage to go while the two of you walked the city.

“Jamil? Your hand.”

“Yes?” He looked down at his hand. What about his hand? It was there, it was bare, what of it?

“Make space for me.” And then you put your own hand, the one that was gloveless, into his coat pocket. If the weather was hotter, Jamil was sure he would have combusted, but if it was hotter you wouldn’t be holding his hand. In that regard, he had the cold to thank, and the falling snow to use as an excuse as to why he was pulling on his hood all of a sudden.

You didn’t ask about it, but he had caught you looking and your wordlessness was just as embarrassing, if not more so.

“Walking like this is kind of inconvenient, isn’t it?” It was more statement than question because it was inconvenient, the both of you must have known as much, but neither you nor he untangled their fingers from where they refused to part.

“But at least both of our hands are warm now,” thought he; said you.

THAT TROPE WHERE… WAIT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S MORE THAN ONE BED?

There’s two beds, and Jamil’s not the least bit surprised. He, after all, was the one who made the bookings for the rooms and there was no way he was sleeping in the same bed as his little sister (who he would have roomed with had she not backed out, though he still wondered if Najma had actually set him up).

There was the unfortunate circumstance of the beds being quite small and not-too comfortable looking, twin-sized as they were, but he knew what he was getting into—he chose not to splurge on the hotel for the purpose of using that money for other things. 

Besides, they were only in their hotel rooms to sleep so who cared if the thread count was too high and the fabric hardly glided against his skin? The fabric manufactured in the Scalding Sands was simply too good that all else paled by comparison. He just had to make sure to check that the sheets were washed and clean, that there were no pests , and that everything was properly sanitized.

That was, of course, his mindset which, at the time, operated under the assumption that he would be vacationing with his sister, not the person he wanted to impress most.

It was another unfortunate thing—that even if he wanted to, he could not simply get up and purchase a better room, so he would at least make sure you got the better of two beds. It was him hoping that if the activities of the day had not been enough to knock you out like a light, then at least you would have an easier time succumbing to slumber.

Plus, waking with an ache in your back was a pain in the ass and he’d rather you not experience that at any time of the day, especially so early in the morning.

“Jamil, are you sure you want that bed?”

Hardly. 

“No, but does it matter? I don’t like either one; I’d much prefer my bed back home,” he said, admittingly holding back to a certain extent about his opinions. Sure he wasn’t the pickiest, could hardly afford to be, but he knew of luxury and enjoyed what he knew. Still, he wasn’t going to start listing off everything wrong with the pillows and blankets, was he now? “But it’s a practical choice.”

“You’re not wrong, it’s just–” you cleared your throat, an action Jamil knew was more forced than needed– “don’t you think you’ll be cold later?”

There was a reason Jamil’s bed was the less desirable of the two. Dingy hotel rooms didn’t exactly have the highest quality of beddings and furniture, that was to be expected as you paid for what you got, but they were also particularly careful with not having the more delicate items prodded at and moved in case they got broken by the customer. Case point: not having control over where the heater was located, or how strong the aircon temperature would be.

Understandable, but it still sucked to be on the receiving end of it. Whatever, he would live. 

“I can just get up and put on a jacket if I have to.”

“A second jacket, you mean.”

“What, do you want me to steal your blanket? Because I can very well do that. Maybe the heater is enough for you to stay warm, hmm?”

“Oh, so you did. You did let me have this bed deliberately.” 

It would have been better for Jamil’s pride if you had just kept that revelation to yourself. He was sure you had known even before he said anything—he doubted you were so dense as to not realize he did not want the risk of you shivering due to the cold getting colder in the middle of the night—but you had to go and point it out just to have your go at flustering him.

Well it worked, but he wasn’t going to give you any more satisfaction by letting you know. Jamil was just going to wrap himself up in a blanket and pretend he had fallen asleep, like that conversation had not happened.

Like a child keeping their eyes shut for far too long just to be sure their parents would not suspect them of being up past bedtime, he eventually did find himself too worn out to stay awake. It must have been some time past eleven in the evening when he had dozed off, and it was three in the morning when his eyes had opened once more.

The first thing on his mind was that it was freezing.

Contrary to popular belief the Scalding Sands was by no means as hot as hell, not always, and definitely dependent on location. Just as the sun would descend so would the temperature; some areas having more humidity than others.

Oh, and there was that time the temperature in his dorm mysteriously dropped, but the time he spent at his alma mater had always been odd.

Regardless, that, by no means, made Jamil used to the cold. He dressed himself properly and tolerated it, but preparation and mindset could never really combat sensations—he was cold, and he was going to have to escape his blanket and feel colder just to grab the coat he had thrown over the singular chair in the room, then—

“Jamil, did you wake up?”

He wasn’t sure if you simply had troubles sleeping at night or if you had a terrible sleep schedule, maybe he should have asked beforehand, but Jamil had not expected you to be up at this hour. 

“Since when have you been awake?” he asked, still not making the move to get out of bed. Socks were hardly enough—he should have worn gloves as well… or a glove, considering you had not returned the one he lent you.

“After you,” you replied quietly, “you were cussing out the cold when I woke up.”

“Oh.” After he thought about it, as much energy as he was willing to spend thinking anyway, it did make sense. He just figured he would have been conscious enough to do it more under his breath. “Sorry I woke you, but you should try to go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of ourselves.”

Jamil expected a variation of “speak for yourself ” from you, but after some shuffling noises he felt you tugging at his arm, doing as much damage as you could without getting off of the bed.

“Sit beside me for a little bit. Let’s get you warmed up.”

Jamil had no plans of saying no.

“It’s warmer here,” he commented, his shoulder bumping against yours as you wrapped him in the duvet with you. The permeating warmth was familiar, and it was brushing against what of his skin it could reach, soothing him. 

Your bed was an infinitely better spot to be in, but he had no particular regrets about his choice, other than perhaps not packing an electric heating pad in his luggage. He was just sorry you had woken up because of him, as per what you implied.

Still, he supposes there’s something about this, about now that he finds himself enjoying. Some hours ago he had been too tired to comprehend anything other than making sure the both of you got some sleep. 

Now, however, while still groggy and exhausted, he could appreciate the domesticity of getting to sleep in the same room as you, knowing the two of you would wake up to each other, avail that mediocre complimentary hotel breakfast before actually heading out to get something a little better.

It was not exactly new, having been a concept or idea to him in some daydream, but now it was a fully-realized experience. 

It was odd. It was familiar. 

He willed himself to stay up a little longer.

“Do you think you’re the type of person who dreams a lot?”

Jamil turned to you in response, shifting just enough to look at you without having his face bump against yours uncomfortably. 

“What brought that on?”

“Because I was dreaming before I woke up. I guess it’s just on my mind,” you said with a shrug. It seemed reasonable enough on the surface, but Jamil recognized the question for what it truly was—a thinly veiled excuse.

He would have changed the topic if someone else had asked. Even now, there was a part of him that preferred to take the easy way out, the decision he was used to—something vague to satisfy someone just enough, a taste of something they’ll never fully understand.

But it’s you, and even with all of his reservations he knew, deep down, he wanted you to know and understand him more than you seem to already do. Jamil wants to be understood, wants to be recognized—if not by the world, then let it be the closest thing to it.

“Of course. Don’t most people have a dream at least at one point in their life?” Jamil paused for a moment, before quietly admitting, “For the longest time, dreams were all I really had.”

You neither laugh at him nor immediately attempt to comfort him. An influx of attention still brought him discomfort, but at times like this, or perhaps because it was you handing it to him, it was nice to be listened to. It was as though his thoughts and emotions held importance. 

“What do you dream about?”

“Everything.” What had Jamil not dreamed about? Money, power, fame—anything and everything that would allow him control over his own life, to be respected for who he is and who he would become, not for what he could do for someone else. “I’ve dreamt about everything at some point. Having everything. Sometimes I still dream those same dreams. 

“Even if I can’t attain something, It’s not bad to dream.”

“It’s never a bad thing to dream,” you agreed. “It is beautiful to  dream. People who dream are beautiful. You…” are beautiful for dreaming . It went unsaid, but Jamil heard it anyway, soft and quiet as if you had whispered it in his ear. The thought of you was enough to have him feeling bashful most days, but words gone undeclared had him more flustered than he could typically handle.

“Have any of your dreams come true yet?”

“The simpler ones,” he said, before choosing to correct himself. No, the dream itself was not just simple, but something deeply important to him. “A simple but significant part of a dream I’ve had for the longest time.”

“Travelling,” you said knowingly, “I remember. We used to talk about the different places we’d go to when we got older, basing our decisions off of book illustrations and how pretty the foreign wares they’d sell at the markets were.”

“You would point at the map and mispronounce all the names,” Jamil added, amused at the recollection, “and you talked about them like you were going to visit each and every country in the following weeks.”

“And then I told you I’d bring you and Najma all sorts of souvenirs—only the most colorful food for her, so she wouldn’t have to complain about how plain your food looked anymore. For you, obviously books about the places I would visit, maybe snow globes with the little landmarks in them. And then–”

“–then I told you off for not choosing to bring me along. Why would I want a snow globe when you can see the snow in person instead?” So he said, even though he always liked the novelty of it as a child. Even if the little flakes inside the glass were fake. “And now we’re older, travelling somewhere with real snow, where the landmarks can’t be kept in some glass ball.”

And someone out there had been gracious enough to listen to his complaints. Perhaps you hadn’t dragged him along with you, but the two of you had travelled together yesterday, and later today, and will continue to do so until the two of you headed back home. A wishful childhood fantasy had somehow come true.

“Well, this is only the start. There’s still the rest of the world to get to.” 

For a few minutes neither of you said anything more. Maybe you, just like him, were thinking about what the rest of the world really entailed—for you and for him. 

“Well,” you began to say, deliberately bumping your shoulder into his. It was as if to let him know you were telling him a joke, “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself even with you having to look after me.”

That did not sound like a joke to Jamil. 

Jamil could leave it at that—a joke, one he could keep rolling. In fact, he was a little tempted to take the easy way out and call you an idiot because you really could be, sometimes. 

But you didn’t want misunderstandings; he was going to hold you to that.

“I think it’s been more enjoyable because of you.” It’s not easy for Jamil to admit anything personal. Even in his adulthood laid the underlying fear that someone will cut up his sentences word for word, scrutinize him bare and vulnerable until his soul would be all that was left of him, ready for consumption.

It should be alright, though. You had no claws to tear him apart, to shred him to pieces—with a touch as comforting as yours, he knew any vulnerability would be safe with you.

“You think?”

“I know.”

Jamil woke up back in his bed with his back aching slightly, but strangely feeling warmer than he would have originally anticipated. Realizing he must have slept past the alarm he allowed himself to rest for a few minutes longer, closing his eyes as if to relish whatever warmth was left, before moving to sit up. The action had caused a domino effect—coat after sweater after coat slinking and sinking, creating a pile atop his blanket-covered lap.

No wonder it was a little warmer—you must have piled all of that atop of him after he went back to sleep.

He puts one of them on, one he would belatedly realize was the sweater you had on yesterday, before moving to return the rest back in their respective luggages. 

His coat, your coat, his sweater, another of his sweaters, one of your cardigans, his scarf, your–

He had paused midway, picking up woven fabric just to make sure it was not his morning-addled brain creating illusions. It wasn’t, and Jamil hadn’t the capacity to feel remotely upset at being lied to. If anything, he was quite exhilarated by it.

You had a pair of gloves. Not even the least bit hidden, just tucked in some corner so he wouldn’t spot it without taking a closer look.

A part of Jamil wants to wake you—mostly because he wants to spend time with you, to talk to you, but also so he could tease you, that he finally has the upper hand and can finally be the one to fluster you in revenge… but he can’t. He takes one look at you, still sleeping soundly, and knows he’ll let you sleep in a little longer. 

“I’ll just open the curtains then,” he murmured to himself, deciding to let the sky choose when to wake you from your slumber.

The stars had gone with the moon, and yet you still remained.

THAT TROPE WHERE FRIENDS BECOME LOVERS

Jamil’s not exactly a romantic, certainly not in the classical sense. 

When the two of you ate out he never paid for you, the two of you always splitting the bill or, if it was too much of a hassle, taking turns paying for the other. In shared purchasing decisions he always went for the best deal as opposed to the more grandiose one. Doors were opened by whoever it was closest to, and the thought of calling you a pet name like babe or baby made him want to shrivel up and wither with the weather.

He took you to that restaurant the taxi cab driver recommended instead of somewhere more high class or popular, the convenience of how close it was to the hotel and the premise of the (couple’s) free dessert catching up to the both of you.

It was good, but still.

It would be nice if he could be more romantic, but it’s simply not ingrained in him. Growing up, he hardly had any time to accumulate dating experience, just as he hardly knew of any actual credible media to use as reference—if asked to name a romantic gesture, the first he would name would likely be the old tale of the princess being taken on a magic carpet ride across the desert. 

Magic carpets did not exist, thus he did not have a magic carpet. If the tale were even to be true, it would likely be some modern flying contraption like a plane.

He did not have a plane either. He was also not going to bring it up ever, and never in front of Kalim in particular. 

So Jamil does his best to, essentially, just be himself and continue getting you involved in the things he had been planning to do on the trip even before he knew you were coming in Najma’s stead. 

He introduced you to places he himself had never been, but who needed a tour guide anyway? Certainly not with his previous research and your habit of picking up travel brochures (most of which, thankfully, translated into a language at least one of you could understand). Things ended up working out well, if he were to base it off of how much you’ve smiled around him.

So, no, maybe he has no clue what the most romantic spots are, but he’s trying his best—maybe even more than his best, considering he’s been more conscious about impressing you due to last night (more precisely, early morning). 

A part of him knows he doesn’t have to—you know him for who he was and is, the parts of him that always will be, just as he knows you the very same way—but he looked at the sky and wondered, what else could he do for you? How could he possibly turn a good day into a memorable night for the both of you?

It was nighttime again, though the two of you opted out of returning to the hotel early this time around, choosing a secluded spot outdoors for no reason other than to converse under the stars.

There was just something about the night sky that loosened lips and melted walls. In any other circumstance Jamil would be disgruntled with how easy it had been to get him to fall into a wave of comfort, but just for now he would welcome it with open arms. The cold air that hit him didn’t feel as cold as before, even though he was certain the temperature had dropped a degree more.

“I know we talked about this last night, but I don’t think I ever said what I thought—felt,” you huffed, the exhale of your breath visible to the naked eye. It was then realized he might have been too fixated on your face, your mouth, to notice such a thing. He looked away from you just as you chose to look at him. “So… I hope you know I’m happy to be here. This wouldn’t have been as wonderful a trip without you.”

So you felt the same way. Even though it wasn’t a confession, Jamil held on to the feelings your words made him feel tight to his chest, a hope not caged but housed in his heart. He wouldn’t do anything now, not when he was still working his way up to being someone worth offering up to you, but your words—did they give him the patience to wait for the right moment, or did they tempt him to risk it all at once?

“Is that so?”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised—you know so. Why do you have to make sure of what you’re already sure of?” 

Because the thrill he receives hearing it straight from your lips is unmatched. Because maybe he isn’t sure, no matter how obvious something may seem; it hurts to be sure and later proven wrong.

“Because I just want to.” His answer was lackluster at best but you took kindly to it.

“Then I’m glad you’re doing more things you want. And saying what you actually want to.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and you look glad—genuinely happy for him. Jamil hadn’t put too much thought into it personally, having owed it all to already being comfortable with you, but if he thought about it a little more, wasn’t it just a big a deal that he could actually say all these things to you?

Jamil looks at the sky—properly this time, without using it as a backdrop as he looks at your visage from the corners of his eyes. 

You’re glad he could say the things he wanted to say? He’d hardly scratched the surface, so he’ll say even more. His words and his time, that he can at least give you.

“If we’re talking about things we’re glad about… for me, it would be getting to see these sights with you. Even now, the sky and the moon and the stars—all of it is so beautiful, isn’t it?”

The breath you took was loud and shaky, or perhaps it was him honing his senses to focus primarily on you. He could not help himself then, turning back to look at you as you replied—

“It is.”

—and Jamil knows you had not looked away from him since he looked away from you. Not once.

“You’re not looking at the view.” The both of you locked eyes, unwavering, and Jamil, perhaps filled with a newfound resolve, had no plans on being the first to look away. He would wait for as long as you chose to speak up, or hide yourself from his sight.

“Maybe I–” To his disappointment, you chose to look away, but he doesn’t say anything to stop you from doing so—if he were someone else, maybe he would hold your chin and make you look at him once more. It would be hypocritical to call you out, he who always looked away when he found himself unable to handle the pressure of your attention, the words you graced him with. It is with that reasoning that he does not tell you to look at him again. “Right. Sorry.”

But he will call you out for something else.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Jamil tells you. Even if you do not want to look right at him, even if he has to wait for a little while longer for your gaze to reciprocate his, he continues to look at you. He thinks he understands it—the way you looked at him just then. 

It is a sentiment he carries now, the thought that the stars themselves were dim in comparison to you.

“I like it when you look at me.”

Jamil recognizes the lines he’s crossing. He’s known his feelings for you for years, that of all the time he’s known you, a good majority was spent adoring you. He knows your own feelings for him too, not as well and not for as long, but enough to know it was similar enough to his own, 

“No, it would be more accurate to say I like how you look at me.”

But that was never the problem. The problem was that Jamil could not be content with his life and himself, not when there was still room for him to go up and up and that kind of ambition took tireless nights and time away from himself, from relationships and the people that mattered.

“Because the way you look at me… it shows your feelings, and your feelings make me feel the same things, too.”

He’s had you in his life for years, and for years longer he wants you to be a part of it as something more, but is it okay to drag you along with him? When he’s still unsatisfied with himself, when he wants to be more, for himself and for you? 

He decides… that the two of you could always talk about it some other time. He just wants you to know, if in any way you needed to make sure the same way he does.

“I’m in love with you, so look at me if you love me too… please.”

Jamil’s chest heaves not due to the cold but in anticipation, or perhaps the nervousness deep within that he might regret saying anything at all—but the fear, the anxiety, all of it is for naught, for you don’t let more than a few seconds pass before looking at him.

You look at him as if he was capable of creating miracles, as if he was a miracle himself, an existence to be grateful for. Jamil’s never known anyone who could look at him like that, who could make him feel as if he was owed the world for simply existing. 

Jamil knew that if he looked a little deeper into your gaze, he would see his own eyes, mirroring that very same expression.

“We don’t have to be in a relationship yet. Not if you don’t want to,” you murmur, taking a step closer to him. That’s another amazing thing about you—you always seem to be able to simply read his mind, that you were someone who actually knew him. “But you should know by now that I won’t mind it when you’re too tired to talk, or too busy to spend a whole day with me, or if it takes you years to get to where you want to be.

“I understand it all, and I’ll be there for as long as you’ll want me. Because I love you.”

Love alone can’t solve problems, that’s not how the world works. He’ll still have to face a rocky path of hardships, the trials and tribulations to achieve his desires, his dreams , but the path no longer seems so daunting—not with you by his side.

“Jamil.” He whispers your name back to you, and when he holds you in his arms he, born from nothing, could imagine what it was like to have everything.

EXTRA:

“Don’t tell your sister, but–” you slipped your hand back into his, even though he very well knew you had a set of gloves all this time, even though he knew you weren’t doing this just to warm yourself– “I’m glad she sold me her ticket.”

“I had no plans of telling her in the first place.”

For different reasons, likely. Jamil knew his sister wouldn’t be mad, but if she was at least half as good at scheming as he was then she would be more than just delighted at the turn out of his and your vacation. If she saw him holding your hand right now she might have pretended to be disgusted at the sight of her brother and dear friend dating, but he would know, deep down, she would be the smuggest one of them all.

“Besides,” Jamil added, pressing his forehead against yours, the cold puffs of air intermingling between the two of you, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

masterlist

still have my heart

a genshin impact smau | kaedehara kazuha

IN WHICH, kazuha's friend gets into a fight with one of your friends

OR

IN WHICH, two exes meet due to being involved in a fight with their friends

TAGS; kazuha x gn!reader, angst, fluff, modern au, exes to lovers, toxicity (?), swearing,

STATUS; ongoing (start 07. 03. 22; end to be determined)

notes; holy shit im actually doing this, also please ignore time stamps, send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist

you still have my heart

profiles;

the musketeers + kazuha ; power rangers

ACT 1; CHILDISH WAR

[1.] xiao got his ass beat

[2.] ruining my chances

[3.] well this is awkward...

[4.] can we talk?

[5.] no more fighting

ACT 2; PINK IN THE NIGHT

[6.] are you free?

[7.] am i the bad guy?

[8.] ended friendships

[9.] ah.

[10.] anything i want?

[11.] blocked

[12.] feeling of guilt

[13.] i wont let that happen

[14.] worries and concern

[15.] :3

[16.] whatever

still have my heart

[14.] worries and concern

"xiao you ok?" your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. currently the both of you were in the library and was studying together. the teal haired boy didnt answer you at first, still hesitating if he should tell you or not.

you noticed his reluctance and held his hand in yours. xiao immediately jolted back to reality the moment he felt a soft and gentle touch in his. "xiao we're friends arent we? you can tell me if something is bothering you. i'll be more that happy to help."

xiao felt embarassed. he didnt want you to see him be so vulnerable but then again he didnt want his friends to be bothered. he didnt just wanna sit still. he wanted to help but he didnt know what to do. reaching a dead end, he chose to consult you for help.

"well...." xiao began, still a bit hesitant but after seeing you shift in your position to listen clearly to him he decided to continue "well two of my friends have been acting strange and its quite obvious they had a fight since theyre avoiding each other but i dont know what to do. i tried to talk to one of them but they wont open up. they helped me so much so i want to help them out this time too." you noticed the melancholy that painted xiao's face. it was fairly obvious to you that xiao kept people close to his heart. so knowing his friends fought must be hard on him.

"do you have any ideas on what they could be fighting about?" you asked him, wanting to help xiao as much as you can. xiao shaked his head. he wished he knew the reason. somehow this made him more saddened than before. "for now, its better to let them sort it out on their own. people tend to not express their feelings and rather keep to themself." xiao listened intently to your advice as you kept going. "if you feel like your friends calmed down and still tend to avoid each other, you should talk to them and hear both sides of the story. it'd help a lot. maybe they just misunderstood each other and miscommunicated." you flashed him a smile as xiao managed to calmed down a bit although he was still shaking with anxiety.

"you still seemed nervous" you let out a light hearted chuckle as xiao grew flustered and embarassed. it was embarassed that you get to see him like this. "ah! i know" you had an idea as xiao listened to what you might have had in mind. "why dont you come over to my place right now? i wanna introduce you to my cat!"

masterlist; previous | next

NOTES; update kasi tangina si kuya pogi typings jsjahshahabwa bumabaliw ako

TAGS; @yaefics @miss-lovesick @lukhalm @munchymon @whats-humanity-lol @morgan-is-writing @aixaingela @aequha @monikidk @cameshitpost @bubblyclouds @softsonata @cridtiins @d4ngom1lk @ferumie @slvdsjjk @aeulia @prodtrouver @apyrose @cheliope @serami00 @spookyrule @kayleigh-reuthlr @hiqhkey @yoimiya-m @yohoo-tehee @thenightsflower @dollpoetwriting @viovya @ishxmeru @still-dazai-simp-not-sorry @lunaflvms @shailuvs   @leathernourishingshoepolish @aethersluvrr @raideneiari @venus-is-incorrect @kazuhasdickwarmer

send an ask if you want to be added or removed!

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

an ayato x reader smau series

pairings: kamisato ayato x fem! reader

synopsis: physical appearances are often the biggest factors for falling in love with a complete and total stranger – yet contrary to some, first impressions play quite a huge role as well; but in your case you think you've quite literally – and officially, ruined your chances with one of Teyvat's most wealthy and sought after bachelor, Kamisato Ayato himself.

updates: irregular

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

PROFILES: only 98% sober | unrefined majority

01 - a bizarre first impression

02 - her older brother

03 - he's rich rich

04 - tba

05 - tba

TAGLIST: @sevynnee @skaramush @nxwxie @ph0bics @c0nn0rv8 @catsfavoriteperson @velionas

I'm Looking For You — shikanoin heizou

10 :: go to you

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 :: 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 :: 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 :: another usual day for heizou to place his sweet macarons on the library table and goes away for a few minutes to look for some books. Except on this memorable day, someone took his macarons. What first thought to be accidental case turned into a regular occurrence, so it became his goal to find out whose been taking his precious macarons.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 :: @spookyrule @strawbxrrytiger @aequha @slvdsjjk @aixaingela @ferumie @kayleigh-reuthlr @hadesaedes @whats-humanity-lol @rinshouya @nei-rinn @yohoo-tehee @kuni-kuzushii @mikctp @rrinsluvr @jiminscarmex @elysiasbae @thenightsflower @haraeee @wheneverthesunrise @scarakitty @lunaflvms @still-dazai-simp-not-sorry @jjkieslovies @ifelloutofbed @reverse-iak @cotton-eee @lacunasweven @lordbugs @lovelyiez @apyrose @beemarkie @rinneamagisluv @aravensquill @yumesthings @nerdyphantomlady @kazuhasdickwarmer @leathernourishingshoepolish @ksjjkthpjm (If your name isn't highlighted, I can't tag your name)

I'm looking for you — shikanoin heizou

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 :: another usual day for heizou to place his sweet macarons on the library table and goes away for a few minutes to look for some books. Except on this memorable day, someone took his macarons. What first thought to be accidental case turned into a regular occurrence, so it became his goal to find out whose been taking his precious macarons.

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 :: modern! genshin impact au, university au, band au, fluff, angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 :: curses/swear words, inappropriate jokes, mentions about crimes and law (heizou is a criminal justice major)

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: I hope this doesn't flop since this is my first genshin impact au like ever after getting into the game (｡ﾉω＼｡) @aequha and @daixuki really inspired me on this one <3

:: the criminals — :: the band ::

01 :: best dessert hands down

02 :: should I take it

03 :: where it'd go

04 :: this you?

05 :: it happened again

06 :: miraculous ladybug

07 :: /kick hu tao

08 :: perfectly fine

09 :: nobody tell

10 :: go to you

11 ::

12 ::

13 ::

14 ::

15 ::

My father and the CEO are friends from university. I… benefited from nepotism. Don’t just let people walk all over you, you idiot. And stop acting pitiful saying you benefited from nepotism! 

EXTRAORDINARY ATTORNEY WOO (2022)

Scarabia 3

Summary: Kalim tries feeding the seafolk.

You smacked Kalim’s wrist on the side. “Nope. Kalim, you’re letting your hands too close to the tank. Floyd’s a grabber and it’s a coin toss as to whether he’ll bite or squeeze.”

Kalim jumped back, nearly dropping the dried flakes onto the floor. “Ah, sorry! I just really wanted to get a closer look. You rarely let me come in here.”

It’s not as though you don’t trust him, it’s more that it had become a habit from the initial first meeting. You’ve met your fair share of spoiled brats, so you can’t help but be cautious around Kalim when he first asked to visit your house. While it hasn’t happened yet, there’s this nagging feeling in the back of your head that one day a rich kid is going to eyeball your pets and demand you give them over. While Kalim is, by all means, a ray of sunshine, he still had an upbringing vastly different than yours.

Well, you’re just happy that your caution was unfounded in this man. He’s trustworthy in his predictability, as harsh as that is.

“Yeah yeah, I’m aware. Sure, hand feeding is fun, but you don’t know their behaviors yet. They’re tricky little things and might try nick your skin.” Anything with the ability to perceive the world would know how troublesome they are. “Anyways, let’s try agai—”

All the nightlights, including the gentle light of the tank, suddenly went out. Kalim gave a loud yelp as buzz of the filter stopped as well.

“What the—” But just as quickly as they went out, they suddenly went back on. Azul, previously visible, had retreated into his cave. Floyd was grabbing onto the edge of the tank, with Jade pushing him up, frowning at the lights that stopped his escape. “No, get back in.” You pushed both of them down. “What happened?”

The soft clinks of cans and rustling of plastic bags caught your attention. A quick glace down was all you needed to spot the black tail of the naga in your care, invading your cabinet filled to the brim with dried foods and snacks for the seafolk.

You’re pretty sure you put Jamil in his enclosure so that he doesn’t sneak in here. Though, when you caught Kalim made a slight shuffle away from you, you had to ask.

“Kalim,” you laid an intense stare on Kalim, watching as his shoulder’s stiffened up, smile frozen on his face, “did sneak Jamil in here?”

He tried to relax his composure and maintain eye contact, “I, well…” But that was all for naught. His laughter came out stilted, awkward and full of embarrassment. “Yeah, you caught me! I’m sorry, I’m just weak to Jamil’s puppy dog eyes.”

“Puppy dog eyes?” You looked to Jamil, who was struggling to pop open another can of dried snacks for the seafolk. You promptly swiped it away from him with a hum of disapproval. Jamil hissed at you but all it took was your narrowing eyes for him to quiet down with a huff. “Never seen him make a face like that. I didn’t even know he was capable of begging for anything.”

You can’t help but briefly wonder why that is, but you came to a rather fast conclusion. Why bother with begging in the first place when you’ve been a stubborn ox? You said no to Vil of all pets, so it’s likely safe to say that begging and puppy eyes aren’t exactly the most effective on you.

But Kalim? Yeah, he’s a different story.

“I just thought he wanted to be here with us.” He deflates.

“Oh he wanted to be here alright.” You shook the can before stuffing it back into the cabinet, making sure to lock it. “Just, don’t do that again, Kalim. Close your eyes if you have to.”

Jeonghan - Seventeen ; boyfriend material

Requested | -Nako

Kalim 1

Summary: Kalim was always a bit overbearing but never intolerable. Now that you’re both dating, Kalim becomes a new form of overbearing. But, again, it’s not intolerable. While the pets are having their midday nap, you and Kalim sit on the couch.

Kalim had his arms hovering over you, his face squinted up in a such way that gives off his hesitation and his powerful need to always be soaking in affection. “Can I hug you?”

You blinked at him, gazing at him from the side. You shrugged your shoulders. “Sure.”

Kalim let his weight drape over you, practically trying to bury himself into your being. He wrapped his arms tighter, though not in such a way that you’ll choke, but it was snug either way. The large, full smile only told you the state of his heart: content, about to burst with bliss. That’s good. It’s nice, seeing him this happy.

Well, Kalim was always a rather happy person, but this type of emotion he was giving off was different than the usual ones. Kalim’s usual happiness always felt bright and fast in a way. Energetic would be the right word and it’s usually his default state. It was also used as shield, for both himself and for others.

This happiness that Kalim is showing, the dumb almost sleepy-ish smile he’s giving off, it was too soft to be any sort of shield. In fact, he doesn’t carry it like one. It was vulnerable, squishy, and so new that it would be easy to choke the life out of it. But even so, this feeling was no less precious. And it was a feeling that he reserved for you, to show only to you.

It’s nice. Very nice indeed.

You continued leafing through another pet care book, letting Kalim snuggle deeper into your neck before he lifted his head. You caught his eye and you can tell he had another question on his tongue. You only hummed at him, coaxing him to let you peek into his mind.

“Can I kiss you?”

You have to admit, your brain slowed down for a moment for the fact he said that so easily. You recovered quickly, however. All these questions he’s been asking, all these questioning of boundaries as though this new turn in your relationship suddenly made you averse to touch. Well, you suppose that’s natural. The newness of it all is probably scaring Kalim a bit. He doesn’t want to mess up so he’s taking extra careful steps.

How sweet of him.

“Depends where.” You looked back down, skimming over the words on the page.

“A kiss on the cheek.” One little step a time. Though, you had a feeling this was not exactly the place he wanted to ask.

Either way, you replied, “Be my guest.”

The feather light press of his lips against your cheek almost made you laugh. The tightness of his arms around you had you expecting that he would go for a full on heavy smooch. Really, he’s being too careful around you. It’s not as though you’re a ticking bomb that’s going to dump him suddenly.

You shuffled a bit, just to create some distance before cupping Kalim’s chin just as his face started to fall. When he focused on you, you gave him a proper kiss on the lips. You let go, leaving him to sway in euphoric happiness as you go back to reading your book. Though, when you spotted the title marking the start of naga pet care, you tugged at Kalim’s sleeve. He was easily brought back to reality.

“You might want to pay attention to this, Kalim.”

He was going to be here for a while, without servants to take care of the pets here, so might as well get him up to speed as to how to care for Jamil and Najma.

Jamil 5

Summary: “Well?” Crowley opened the door, as though unveiling a prize. A pathetic, writhing, bloating, ink filled person of a prize.

(There's some body horror stuff. And a very, very tired reader. But that's to be expected when one holds the torch called hatred for so long. It burns you out.)

When one is going through the most horrid of suffering, you suppose it’s only natural to seek any comfort you can. Maybe that’s why this man—you don’t remember his name, it wasn’t as important as his last name—was here, clutching at his bed, dragging pillows and sheets closer to himself as his melting form. You can’t make out his arms or legs anymore, it blended too well into the ink puddle below his body.

“I was originally going to make quick work of him but,” the playful tone of his, while expected, still didn’t comfort you. It wasn’t your first time seeing a person slowly, painfully melt into ink, however… “Well, it wouldn’t be as pleasant. And it was never my right, now was it?”

“No,” you softly, tiredly sighed out as this man choked on his own ink, crawling up further away from you both, “I suppose it never was.”

How strange that none of this brought you any joy. No glee born out of sadism or righteous justice to be found. There’s pity there, to be sure, but none of that compels anything in you other than just a saddened mood.

You suppose you only mourn the fact that you’ll never see this man at his peak. He has already fallen down, tripped over his greed and diving head first into the ink that consumes him now. All you’re left with is leftovers, but to wish for him to healthy, to be semi human looking for the sake of ruining him would mean that Jamil must be subjected to more torture.

And you would never want that for him. So, this was all you’re stuck with. A pathetic, quivering, semi-puddle of a man that wanted nothing more for death. Wrath had been living in your bones for so long, for so many years that most of your marrow had long since lost their luster. You want to carry that hot burning anger once more, to gather your hatred and laugh as you brought about this man’s end but…

You already have Jamil back, waiting for you while swaddled in a blanket that used to—still belongs to him. You already have this man’s last hope for fortune or recovery. And honestly, you just want to go home.

“I appreciate it Crowley, for finding him,” really, you are. You can’t fake it. At least you’ll feel safe for personally verifying he doesn’t have long. “I think I just want to lock up this room. You know, block the windows, vents, everything. Just make this place his tomb so we can go home.”

He’s already on the path to dying anyway. Might as well make it impossible for any rescue attempt to be made. Better than a swift end. Better than wasting time here when you could be home, when you could be taking Jamil home.

Crowley took a deep bow before you, arm over abdomen as though a noble lowering his head to someone of far higher status than himself, “Then it shall be done.”

You looked over to him, raising an eyebrow before leaning down to tap his hat. “Yeah, yeah, just be quick about it. I want to go home.”

Deuce 1

Summary: Just a regular hangout with Deuce, with chalk and an empty wall.

(Tis short and sweet. Hope you like it.)

“Um,” Deuce couldn’t help but step back a bit, “hey, are you sure this isn’t vandalism?”

You blinked at him twirling the chalk on powder coated fingers. “Buddy, this is my dorm. Pretty sure I got the okay to do what I want with it.” You went back to adding more details on the eyes of a smiley face. You adding in the veins only unnerved Deuce further.

If the Headmage decided to pop in from around the corner, he can only imagine the lecture that would foam from his mouth. Would Deuce listen? Probably not but can you blame him? It’s hard not to zone out when people drag out their words.

“Still though…” as fun as this seemed, he still wants to avoid breaking rules when he can. Even if they are tempting. Deuce still holds onto his grip on the chalk.

“If Crowley doesn’t like it, we can always hose this wall down.” You added some freckles on the unnerving face, snorting to yourself before moving onto the next picture. “Or we can tell Crowley to suck a fat one but I know you won’t do it.”

“Prefect, please,” Deuce whispers, stuffing his laughter to the bottom of his lungs. An honor student should be more mature than this. Even so, he drifts to your left side, tapping his chalk once against your cheek before focusing on the art you left behind. “At least give this guy a beard. He feels weirdly bare without it.”

“Be my guest,” you waved him off, giving him permission to go wild with whatever might be in his imagination, “I’m not gonna stop you. Though, don’t draw anything that isn’t for Ortho’s eyes.”

Okay, you probably didn’t mean for your words to hurt him, but still. “You really take me for that kind of gross person, Prefect?”

You looked over to him, giving him a quick scan before shrugging your shoulders. “You hang out with Ace. Honestly, anything’s possible when he’s within close proximity.”

…you know what, you’re right. He'll just, focus on this picture now.

“You think this face needs a buddy?” Or maybe a couple of buddies? Maybe some animal friends?

“Yeah, give him someone to talk to!”

launch our love jade leech x reader

summary: You and Jade send out your wedding invitations. (Almost) nobody knew you two were dating in the first place

author's note: written for a discord server event! bc june is wedding szn. and also because i realized i needed more silly (and domestic) jade in my life. this is sillier than most of my writings bc i wrote it to destress from my finals hehe

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, established relationship, marriage, weddings, some cursing, 6.7k+ words, not beta read

you can also read this on AO3

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM (CAUSED BY YOU AND JADE)

“Jade, you’re smiling. Is something funny?”

“Aren’t I always smiling, my dear?”

“Not always, not with your teeth.” So you said, but weren’t you the one baring your teeth at him right now? “You’re amused by something. Care to share?”

Maybe Jade didn’t seem like the type, but he loved jokes—stupid jokes, and even funny things that weren’t actually jokes. He just liked being able to laugh at something, someone, and oh, he was going to have the biggest laugh of his twenty something years of life—both on land and in sea. 

In fact, he might have been laughing right now just at the very thought of the situation.

“Perhaps I’m just happy?” he mused, knowing for certain that you didn’t buy it. You knew him too well, for too long—sometimes he still found himself thinking just how odd it was for the two of you to have gotten so close, but it certainly made things more interesting, didn’t it? It would be difficult to imagine how he’d be living his life now if you weren’t by his side. “You bring me happiness. Is that so unbelievable?”

“No, but isn’t it weird that years ago I would have thought your words were some ploy to tease me, or make fun of my feelings for you?” you said, a laugh escaping your lips. “I can’t believe I fell for you first. So cringe of me, honestly.”

“Yes, but I had been the one to ask you out first,” he reminded you, clicking his tongue in the process, “really, you made your feelings so obvious but you simply wouldn’t do anything. Did you ever feel bad for me, poor Jade Leech who knew nothing about human romance customs, having to do all the hard work in courting you?”

“Yes, and in my pity I stayed with you for eight years,” you deadpanned, clearly enjoying the joke as much as he was. That was something about you he’d always loved—you always got a chuckle out of him, not merely from your words, but even your mannerisms and willingness to just go along with whatever he was saying, inserting your own quips as well. “And will continue to for even more years than that.”

“My love is so gracious,” he praised, clearly teasing but voice laced with unmistakable affection, “if this is what it feels to be pitied by you, then I’ll simply have to have your pity all to myself, hmm?”

“You…” 

Jade really couldn’t help himself then, laughing as you were torn between letting him know he was being infuriating, or saying something terribly sappy yourself.

“I still don’t believe you, by the way,” you said, returning back to the original topic of conversation, “but I think I know why you’re so excited now. It has to do with the invites we sent out earlier this morning, doesn’t it?”

“Heheh. I might be losing my touch if it’s that obvious,” he replied, both of you knowing it had more to do with you than him. 

The invites. They were pretty things—pearl white envelopes with intricate calligraphy at the very center, something formal to fit both Jade’s disposition and the event, but the design of the letter inside clearly had your touch. He actually still had a few unsent ones himself, ones he would deliver himself once he returned to the Coral Sea.

Save the best for last, of course.

“You think any of them would have gotten it by now?” He responded to your question with a smile that showed his teeth, he was certain of it this time. Oh, he was more than sure at least one person would have gotten it, received by the ones that lived closer, already opened by the ones a little less busier, and he was elated in anticipation of their responses. “Judging by the look on your face, that’s a yes. Should I mute my phone?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied immediately, and then added for good measure, “additionally, could you make sure every call is on speaker phone?”

As though simply waiting for his cue, your phone began to ring, and Jade had no doubts someone had already read the invite and was more than ready to make a complaint, or ask for an explanation, or both.

“Is it–” he looked over your shoulder to read the caller ID– “ah, I was wondering which one of the two. Go on and answer. I’ll just be here, listening attentively.”

“Fine, fine, but get ready. Once this call ends we’re clearly going to get them non-stop, either from your phone or mine.” You took a deep breath, as if to prepare yourself for your impending doom, before pressing the answer button.

THE CALL WHERE HIS SIGNIFICANT OTHER GETS CURSED AT (AND HE LETS IT HAPPEN)

“You fucking fuck,” Ace said, slowly and almost threateningly, and Jade almost let out a huff of laughter at that alone. Only almost, for he had wanted to stay silent for a little longer just to hear what either one of you would talk about. “I raised and looked after you for over three years–”

“Now who’s doing the raising in the group, you say? If not me, it’s obviously–”

“Shut up! I need to tell you how disappointedI am!”

Jade threw you a look and you only shrugged. Ace always seemed like the annoying older brother type of friend, but was he actually some secret mother hen type? He always pictured that role for… essentially every other close friend you had, but he supposed distance could bring the fretting out of anyone.

“As I was saying, you know how much I L-word you, you little shit, but what is this behavior? Is this how you repay me?” On second thought, this was annoying older brother behavior. “How could you do this to your best friend—no, absolutely no oh, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek, is my blah blah now! Betrayal! One second I have Jade’s contact name renamed to your TOTGA, next second you’re getting married to him?”

At Ace’s exclamation Jade allowed himself to unstifle his laughter, slapping his thigh with the free hand, the one not attached to the arm that was draped around your own laughter-induced quivering shoulders.

“TOTGA?”

“The One That Got Away. Coined by Cater, but Ace found it too funny so it stuck as an inside joke about… well, obviously about you,” you explained, near groaning at the reminder, “basically, Ace thinks you were incapable of returning my feelings.”

“Hey, I never said that! I just said you were too much of a wuss to actually do anything. You cried when he became a fourth year, remember? Ace… I want to see Jade, huhu. I’m so sadddd, wah wah wah, wah, wah.”

“What a subpar impersonation. I wish I was there to witness it myself.” It was a little hard to shake off the image in his head once Ace got it in there—he hated seeing you upset of course, but you crying because you missed him? That would have certainly been a cute sight. He wondered if Ace or one of your other friends had managed to have that, or any other similar event, recorded on video. 

He’s not quite Azul but he’s made his fair share of deals, too.

“And for your information, Ace, you might like to know that it was I who made the first move, so you would be right about your assumptions.”

“Thank you for your service. My dear friend would have stayed single, still living in the college, doing nothing but taking care of Grim until the ripe old age of a hundred and one otherwise,” Ace might have sounded like he had significantly calmed down, but you seemed to know better. 

Ace was never particular about the respect for seniority, and while some parts of him had already matured, according to you that is, some parts were bound to stay the same. 

“But also, I just know you’re part of the reason why I never found out the two of you got in a relationship in the first place! So what was the reason? A prank?”

“Of course not. What kind of man would have a joke run for as long as eight years?” Jade said, pretending he wasn’t that type of man. Honestly speaking, he really never intended it to be secret or anything. Azul and Floyd knew because it was impossible to hide things from either one—the latter being his brother, the other being your supplier of potions in your earlier years of visiting him and his family.

It just so happened that with a strange set of circumstances it would appear you never got the chance to tell anyone, he was too private a person to share the more intimate details of his life, and the two of you decided to just stick with it for as long as either one of you didn’t get caught.

“Okay, fine, I know why Jade wouldn’t say anything… but you, don’t think I have forgotten about you. Actually, shit, I’m tired of shouting. Give me a sec.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Giving the phone to our favorite Deucey-Weucey. Nice going with the invites by the way—flying envelope followed me around in the middle of the street until I opened it. I thought my unpaid taxes were haunting me!”

Ah, yes, the wonderful flying tracker envelopes. Jade had paid good money for those—for convenience, else it would have been too difficult sending formal, non-digital invites to everyone all across the land, but he would not deny that the idea of an envelope hunting and chasing down your mutual friends was fun to imagine. 

“You were shouting that loud in public? Also… are you joking? Ace, pay your taxes?”

“Pass. Oh, and don’t tell Deuce I said that, by the way. He’s freaking out more than me—he’s been spamming me with texts because I got to call you first—and we don’t need the policeman to freak out even more because of my inability to be a law-abiding citizen. He just finished his shift, too! … Yo, Deuce! Guess who I’m on the phone with—Oi! At least ask before–”

“First of all, congratulations,” a different voice came out of the phone speaker this time, a little gentler and kinder but clearly holding back. Ah, Jade thought to himself, here was the other one he was waiting on for your end.  “Bet you Ace didn’t even say that, right?”

“He didn’t,” the two of you replied at the same time, much to the chagrin of the voice whining at an audible distance.

“Oh, hello,” Deuce greeted, oddly politely, “you don’t mind if I shout at your spouse-to-be, right? I’ve been holding back from doing so for about twenty or so minutes now.”

Well, Jade always liked politeness. Why, it reminded him of himself, after all.

“Fufu… go for it,” he said, but honestly you could have been the one to agree to it yourself with the way you readied yourself by pushing the phone slightly further away than when you were talking to Ace. Interesting reaction.

“You can cover your ears, I just need to get this out of my system… WHAT THE HELL? THIS IS WORSE THAN ANY OF ACE’S PRANKS!” Jade had to wonder if that was more compliment or insult. Deuce was less harsh than Ace with his wording, but the tone of voice was more intimidating, a little delinquent-like. You seemed used to it, though, maybe even a little fond and reminiscent.

“We kept comforting you because we… okay fine, Ace, shut up, because I thought you kept getting rejected, but not only have you been together all this time, the two of you are getting married? Also meaning, time had passed since you proposed… or Jade proposed to you?”

“Actually,” Ace interjected, loud enough to be picked up by the microphone, “since when did the two of you get together? This is very important by the way, please answer correctly.”

“Answering correctly… ah, I see what’s going on here,” Jade replied with an amused laugh, “I hope you got the right answer, then. The last week of my third year, so before the summer of yours.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before the two of them began making a ruckus once more.

“Fucking Ortho?! Out of all of us, Ortho gets it right?” Ace bemoaned, “The way we dissed him too for guessing incorrectly. Of course he knew without actually knowing. I mean thank the Seven it wasn’t Sebek or Jack or I would never let myself live it down, and if it was Epel he would never let us live it down, but wow.”

“They made me bet as well, by the way,” you told Jade, “betting on my own love life… or lack of, at the time.”

“And you got it wrong?” he snickered, always happy for something new to tease you about. “Please do tell, when did you think we would get together?”

“Uh… I don’t remember?”

“Never. You said the two of you were never, ever, ever, getting together,” Deuce reminded you, pretending to simply be helpful even though it was obvious he was attempting to get back at you one way or another. Well, it was helpful to Jade, at least. He’s not surprised by the answer, it would have been rather typical considering your mindset back then, but your reaction right now was very adorable. 

He had no plans of teasing you about it at this very moment, but he stored that information for another time.

“Wait, I just realized something. You were also crying to us that time, so then… you were crying because–”

“Oh,” you sounded a little bashful, “it was because I thought we wouldn’t be together because… you know, Jade would be out there in some mountain, probably without phone reception, and I would be stuck in NRC, so…”

“...so you didn’t think you two were actually in a relationship,” your statement was finished for you by Deuce, who sounded, and probably looked, exasperated, “and then you two actually were, but you were either still sad about the distance or too embarrassed to tell us you were mistaken that you never told us.”

“Yeah, something like that, and also I kept getting teased about it so as payback I kept holding off telling all of you, until…”

“Until you literally forgot to ever tell us,” Ace groaned, “shit, that’s one long grudge.”

Well, Jade might have had some part to do with you not talking about it after your third year. He was the one who convinced you it’d be fun to let them figure it out for themselves. If they weren’t able to tell while they still got to see you every day, how much harder would it be for them once you all went your separate ways all over Twisted Wonderland?

“Okay, maybe deserved on our end, but I don’t want to take responsibility so fuck you… oh, and congratulations to both of you lovebirds… er, fish?”

THE CALL WHERE HE MESSES WITH SOMEONE (AS USUAL)

You were still in the middle of your call with Ace and Deuce, voice call turned video call as the three of you planned a pre-wedding meet-up with the rest of your friend circle for the purpose of deciding who your best man would be (thankfully not a problem he has to deal with, considering Floyd was the only real choice), when he received a call on his phone.

“Who is it?” you asked, breaking away from the conversation for a few seconds.

“Trey,” he replied, quite normally if he would say so himself, although you must have known better based on the way you were looking at him.

“Don’t stress him out too much, Jade.” He agreed, although he certainly didn’t promise anything. If he was being honest, one of the calls he was anticipating getting was from the bakers’ son. Perhaps because it was interesting seeing the seemingly ordinary people break out of their restraints and say something funny. 

“Say hi to Trey for me! Or tell him to call me… not any time for the rest of the day or night, if I’m being honest.”

With that he slinked away from the bedroom to the living room, letting himself relax atop the sofa as he answered the call. 

“You know, Jade, most people send in their order forms online these days. Or in person, if they want a taste test first.”

“Oh, do you not want to comment on the invite first? The RSVP is included in the envelope, but you could let me know right now. How many guests do you intend on bringing? You could always bring your siblings—given my being a twin, I’ve always been fond–”

“Jade,” Trey interrupted, already sounding exasperated, “am I really a guest when you’re asking me to make your wedding cake?”

“And the wedding favor pastries as well, if you don’t mind,” Jade supplied, smiling to himself. Good, Trey was reacting exactly how he wanted him to. Sure, he did not doubt the man probably had some degree of surprise regarding his relationship status, but that seemed to be a second thought in the dread of dealing with what would presumably be at least a medium sized order. 

“We would appreciate your suggestions as well. Which do you think would be better: cupcakes, quite overused but popular for a reason; small cakes, so we don’t have to go through the hassle of giving away slices of the wedding cake; or something a little less fancy, like cookies or brownies?

“Also, what do you think about the cake itself? How many tiers are the norm for wedding cakes? Why is it that most people go for height when you can go for width and length? What do you think about including mushrooms–”

“Jade, absolutely not. We can add the fake sugary ones if you want, but no real mushrooms,” Trey sounded somewhere in between flabbergasted and disgusted at the suggestion. Now, wasn’t it obvious he was just joking? He wasn’t really going to insist on adding mushrooms in the cake… unless it was actually an unfounded good combination?

“Also, for the love of the Queen, please just go to the bakery for a taste test… ugh, I can’t believe you’re getting married before me. What in Wonderland…”

“Really makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” And because Jade was secure with his sense of humor, he laughed at his own joke. What Jade would give to be able to see the look on his face right now, curious about what sort of face he must have pulled in that dead silence of five seconds. “Oh, and I just thought of something… what do you think about mushroom shaped biscuits as wedding favors?”

THE CALL WHERE YOU GET A PART-TIME WEDDING PLANNER (BUT WHO DOESN’T LOVE FREEBIES?)

You had received a few more calls last night, mostly quick congratulations paired with a “but… have you always been together with Jade? Somehow, I always thought…” 

Those people never pried too much, likely to save themselves from the potential embarrassment of having forgotten such an important detail about a friend, maybe preferring to ask someone else about the details. None of them were too interesting so Jade didn’t mind much. 

The real fun continued the very next day. The intended guests seemed to have enough decency to not call past midnight, although he did spot a few 3 a.m. text messages sent to some group chat you happened to be in, so the night was relatively peaceful. Someone, however, seemed to be a particularly early riser, dragging the both of you with him with one notification.

Not a call, just a notification that somehow jolted you awake, your sudden movement waking him as well.

“What–”

“I thought it was for work… I panicked.” Despite the fact that it was very much a weekend, it seemed that it was hard to get rid of habits. “Who else just sends sudden calendar invites to unplanned video calls aside from… oh, this makes sense, actually.”

You suddenly got up from bed and Jade, admittedly still a little sleepily, watched as you tried to fix yourself up—slowly walking to the bathroom as you washed your face, even brushing your teeth. That told Jade he would not be expecting you to head back to sleep despite the fact that the sun had likely risen at most about half an hour ago. If it weren’t for the fact that you were just straightening out your rumpled sleepwear, he would have thought you had planned on going out.

“Already so energetic in the morning,” Jade commented. For a busy man like him, he quite liked getting to sleep in whenever he could with his beloved at his side, but he was just as content watching you in the early hours of the day. Seeing you go about your morning, yes, but more so waking up in the same room as you, something that would become more common once the two of you got married.

He had always missed mornings with you whenever he was under the sea instead of by your side.

“Jade, do I look presentable?” you suddenly asked, plopping back down on the bed, lowering your head to lock eyes with him. He’s not quite sure what you’re expecting out of him considering the biased lens he views you in.

“You know my heart is aflutter whenever I see you,” he answered, not dishonest in the slightest but always worded in a way he knew you would like, “my darling is as beautiful as usual, brilliant and timeless like the most precious pearl.”

“And that’s not what I was asking. Presentable is different from beautiful.” Still, you looked appreciative of his praise, allowing yourself to accept it instead of turning it down, and really, that’s the reception Jade likes the most from you. “Oh well. Vil will probably understand anyway.”

Oh? He knew you and Vil kept in touch even after his graduation, but among his list of people who he thought would contact you next, he had not considered someone as busy as Vil Schoenheit to be next. Not that he had any plans of going back to sleep when you were already awake, but now he was more enthused to listen in—intrigued in all matters that had to do with you, and he supposed because it had to do with him, as well.

He doesn’t even have to tell you—you put it on speaker immediately.

“You know, most people these days try to soft launch their relationships on MagiCam, but you did not even do a normal hard launch, no, you went all the way with a wedding announcement. Do you think yourself a celebrity with this kind of secrecy?”

“Ahaha, well–”

“Oh, and before I forget, I’ll be sending you my work schedule. We can’t have you looking like a potato on your wedding day, can we? Do you already have something to wear? If not, I can introduce you to some designers, no need to worry I still remember what styles you like best, and then we can choose which outfit you’ll want to wear best during the ceremony itself, and then the reception—

And we can’t forget about make-up! You–ah, Jade, hello, I just noticed the top of your head peeking near out of frame. I can send you both some palettes that would work best with your skin, the Seven knows I have too much unused make-up from brand deals, and–”

“Vil,” you interrupted suddenly, “not that I don’t appreciate the help, because I do, I mean I haven’t even thought of getting into more comfortable clothes for the reception? But why are you doing so much? Aren’t you busy?”

“I would have to agree. It’s as if you have chosen to take up the task of being our wedding planner.”

“Because it’s bad manners to outdress the newlyweds,” Vil explained, as if it was the simplest thing in the world to understand, “so just this once, the both of you have to look better than me. Understood?”

THE CALL WHERE YOU AND A CROW ARGUE ABOUT WHO WALKS DOWN THE AISLE AS YOUR GUARDIAN (SPOILER: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN TREIN)

Jade took over the kitchen most days, for as long as he had the time for it. Not only was he confident in his skills but he enjoyed the act of cooking just as much as getting to show off his skills for you.

And of course, because there was the thrill of letting slip that there was some special secret ingredient that always left you slightly perturbed or excited. Not that there was any most of the time, he just wanted to see if you would keep buying it, and he would eat up the slightest hesitation before you eventually gave in because A) you trusted him and knew deep down he was either playing with you or added something he knew you liked, or B) you just wanted to eat your meal already.

One of those was more romantic than the other.

Regardless, he was cooking for you because you seemed like you needed the energy. While the both of you agreed on wanting to get married soon—considering the two of you lived together and were as domestic as couples could get to the point that it was as if he was already a married man anyway—you seemed to wonder if there was enough time to plan everything that still needed to be planned. 

“Of course there will be,” he reassured you, momentarily abandoning the meals he had not finished plating to step closer to you, “we still have four months to go, and I’m here to help you, remember?”

“I know, and I love you even more for it.” You don’t waste a single second after he places his hand atop yours, turning your palm over to interlock fingers properly. That’s another thing Jade adores about you—how easily you can confess and show your feelings for him. “A part of me was just hoping wedding planning would be a little easier than it actually is.”

“I’m sure it’s made easier with magic involved,” Jade said with a laugh, “although ceremonies are much simpler under the sea.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that kind of preparation.” You seemed to be experiencing some degree of unease, likely at the thought of something. “More so… people.”

Jade smiled. Close-lipped.

“If there’s anyone being a bother, or being troublesome–”

“Jade, no,” you interrupted quickly, as if suddenly fearing for the lives of several people. “Not like that. I received an email from Professor Crewel a while ago. Apparently our wedding has become a hot topic in the staff room.”

He blinked, pretending to be surprised.

“Oh my, now why would that be?”

You need not answer that question, not when it was so obvious. You had wormed your way into their hearts in the span of four years, perhaps even more considering how often you visited for the sake of Grim, and now they were attached to ex-Ramshackle Prefect, current pseudo-NRC staff. 

(Neither of you were really sure if beast caretaker was a real position considering Crowley had yet to house any beasts beyond Grim, but you liked the allowance and the ability to come and get your cat-not-cat whenever you wanted.)

“I don’t know,” you sighed, legitimately looking a little confused, “but Professor Crewel… he offered to help with the clothes, but I said Vil was already doing that, so instead he said he’d send over some gifts. I mean I expect that on the ceremony day itself, but not months before?”

“May I ask… did you happen to have a favorite professor?” Because it was easy to tell why one of them was buttering you up so suddenly, although he was a tad unsure if it would be for naught. Perhaps you already had someone in mind.

Before you could answer, a song he could not recall having heard before rang out in the room. It was, for a lack of a better term, the type of tune that would be catchy at first until it inevitably became the most annoying sound in existence. Earworm might have been the word for it.

“Ah, Crowley is calling. I forgot that was the ringtone I set for him,” you said, as if that was enough to explain everything. 

It was.

“Headmaster–”

“My child, who has grown up so fast to the point of finally getting married.” You exchanged looks with Jade, and while he was evidently more amused than you, he understood the incoming headache. Crowley himself was the incoming headache. “I would just like to remind you that this most generous, gracious, giving headmaster of yours is also your guardian by law, yes?”

As much of a secretive man the headmaster could be, now was certainly not one of those times, and the realization of what your old professors were up to had dawned on you.

“Professor Crewel’s quite generous as well,” you said, “you know, he offered to buy me a few things for the wedding”. It was as if you were pretending to be deep in thought, when in reality you were baiting the crow into either telling you what he wanted outright, or at least offering you something a stingy man like him normally wouldn’t. 

Then again, Jade was just a little concerned that even if Crowley did get you something, it would come from NRC’s budget. None of his business, but there was the probability of you feeling guilty over that. 

“What, so are you choosing Divus then?”

“Who said I would be choosing Professor Crewel?” 

Truthfully Jade did think that, among the whole staff, Headmaster Crowley or Professor Crewel would have been the best choices to take the position of your guardian down the aisle, but perhaps that was merely his impression of who would most want to be in that position as opposed to who you would want.

“See, I was just thinking of having Grim stroll down the aisle considering he’s the closest I have to family, but Jade and I have been talking about whether he should be a flower boy or the ring bearer.” 

Yes, that much was true, and while a basket would have been heavy he was partial to flower boy simply because it would be funny to watch him throw petals around the beach, accidentally having his paws sink in the sand, but he could not say that or else be accused of bullying your beloved beast by you.

“So since it can’t be Grim… since he looks after Grim when I can’t, I thought Professor Trein–”

“Absolutely not!” You had ruffled the feathers of the headmaster with one utterance of a name, as though you and the senior professor had personally offended him. With how dramatic he used to be, and seemingly still is, it was very likely he felt that way, Jade thought. “Trein has already walked down the aisle for SO many weddings! This is incredibly unfair for the childless like me.”

“Isn’t Professor Crewel in the exact same situation?” 

“No, he has his puppies. That makes him a father. Meanwhile there’s me. I am alone and childless and you are the closest thing I have to a child, will you deprive me of the opportunity to flaunt–ahem, to show my support for the marriage of two very wonderful NRC alumni?”

“Wow,” Jade said, almost in disbelief at such a poor excuse, “that sounded very convincing and not at all falsified. I might ask you to replace my father at this point.”

THE ONE WHERE SOMEONE STRESSES ABOUT HIS WEDDING MORE THAN HIS FAMILY (AND HIM)

Jade had expected that his brother would momentarily make a fuss, that his twin would be filled to the brim with excitement while complaining about how the wedding date was too far and how he should have it sooner. 

He also anticipated his parents' congratulations, their happiness in spite of wanting a ceremony under the sea as well, their wishes that you had visited with him today so that they could spoil you with something extravagant for the occasion.

But Azul? Sure, he had expected some degree of fretting, but the octomer was stressing about the wedding as if he was the one getting married. Dear Sea Witch, if this was how Azul was going to act at being his wedding’s caterer, just how much worse would he fuss if he ever got married?

“You should have told me sooner, Jade!” Azul exclaimed, already grabbing a scroll with one tentacle to jot down estimates—Jade was unsure of the specifics but it figured it must have been the usual: assumed guest count (Azul had not even bothered to ask, somehow he just put a number eerily close to the own estimate you and Jade had in your heads), times and dates, which foods and drinks he’ll likely end up having prepared, even from where best to source ingredients around June, the month of the wedding.

“Ah, Trey’s handling the wedding cake and favors, but not the desserts themselves, so feel free to cancel those two out,” the moray added, stifling a laugh at how cross Azul suddenly looked with him.

“I don’t know if I’m more upset at you going to Trey for that when I’m perfectly capable, or for not telling me before I finished the estimate costing. Do you know how difficult it is to cater for big events?”

“With the amount of experience I’ve had assisting you? Of course I know,” Jade pointed out dryly, “and I know just as well that you are incredibly capable. This is simply a small feat for you, Azul.”

“Most caterers in the industry ask for six to twelve months in leeway preparation time when it comes to reservations.” It was phrased to be informative, but really it sounded like he was being chided. “If you had not come to me, I am certain everyone else would have rejected you. Aren’t you fortunate to have me as a… to have connections to someone as capable as me?”

A part of him still hesitated to call Azul a friend. Perhaps it was a case of old habits dying hard, or just for the sake of either one of their prides, but he would never call Azul a friend to his face. Azul was just Azul, who he and his brother stuck around with since childhood because he was interesting, but–

“And congratulations, Jade. I’m happy for you. Who would have thought you would ever marry,” Azul said, smirking and yet refusing to lock eyes with him. Jade thought he might have been a little teary-eyed, but it was harder to tell underwater. Even if he was sure, he had no plans of making fun of Azul for it, just this once.

Just this once, he might admit to himself that Azul was a friend.

THE ONE WHERE HE SURPRISES EVERYONE ONE LAST TIME (BUT IS THERE EVER REALLY A LAST TIME?)

Jade has long prepared for his speech, has it memorized down to the very last word. Even if he hadn’t, it would be relatively easy to say everything on the spot—discuss how he fell for you, the story of how you two got together, the love he did and does and forever will have for you, and of course, how the two of you managed to keep everything a secret until recently. Still, he prepared for it, mostly because he had one last surprise saved for the very end. 

You’re a little teary-eyed near the end, what people thought was the end, of his speech; he thinks he can spot his father crying as well, and he wonders if that’ll stop or worsen by the time he has to give out his speech. Azul’s there, nodding his head in approval and clapping as if he had just finished giving a business presentation instead, while Floyd is cheering and hollering and amazingly, his tie has yet to be fully discarded.

On your end of guests, he can spot a few of your friends be mildly surprised from witnessing how heartwarming he could be when he felt like showing it; Malleus Draconia simply radiating joy from being present, still really odd to know his significant other was friends with a future King; Leona, placed at the table farthest from Malleus’, not looking particularly enthused, almost as if he hadn’t brought an expensive gift in hopes of one-upping his fellow prince (although he was certain Kalim had one-upped them both on accident).

The professors were also there, and he had overheard them (rather, Crowley and Crewel, who you eventually decided both got to represent you down the aisle) arguing amongst themselves earlier about who got to dance with you first.

The answer was him, your groom, quite clearly, and perhaps Floyd will want to steal either him or you away for a little bit.

When the clapping ceases he lets out a most bright grin, then again when was he not genuinely smiling and laughing today, before speaking into the microphone once more.

“Once more, I thank all of you for attending this special day. You have all helped make this a memory-filled day… but before I hand the microphone over to my father, I have an announcement to make.” He turned to look at you, still seated beside him and beaming in approval, even throwing a little thumbs up from beneath the table. 

He loved you even more for not only letting him, but encouraging him to have one last hurrah.

“I have heard a lot of complaints regarding how sudden we announced our wedding, or perhaps more appropriate to say our relationship status.” He had received a few chuckles out of that one, but who was Jade if not someone who wanted the last laugh? “We, my beloved and I, understand your complaints, and so we took your feedback, went over it carefully, and decided to do better next time.

“That is to say, you are all invited to our second wedding in the Coral Sea. Same date next year, no dress or tail code this time, fufu…”

He loved it—the commotion it caused, the way his father was weeping a little harder, he did wish for the two of them to have the Coral Sea ceremony; the way Azul was calculating the costs of everything again, now with the included costs of actually having the guests be able to breathe; party animals like his brother, Kalim, and Cater easily anticipating another celebration; Ace, Deuce, and Jack having war flashbacks to what happened the first time they visited the place; and most importantly, your reaction.

You already knew what was coming, but he always loved watching the different expressions bleed into your face, and there was just something about how happy you were at the reminder that you’d get to celebrate your union again, but this time in his culture.

With the microphone safely out of his hands and plopped in front of his father, his lips near your ear. The world may already know, but even then he whispers the words themselves as though they were still a secret—

“I love you.”

“You only love me because chaos always follows me around,” you said, clearly joking. Because he’s him, he returns the favor.

“Oh yes, because I stayed in this relationship for over eight years for a joke. I pity you, my dear.”

“Mhmm, if this is what it feels to be pitied by you, I can’t wait to experience it for the rest of our lives.” He’s unsure of who laughed first, but what does it matter, really? 

A few of your fingers slipped underneath his gloved hand, idly writing something against his skin that warmed his heart—your new initials. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and he smiled because he knew. Beneath the politeness and the jokes, the truth was not something that he had to wrangle out of you, but something easily seen and easily told.

“So… how are we pranking them next?”

masterlist

Diasomnia 2

Summary: Those three pets of Silver’s are bored out of their minds. The need to make mischief calls to them and deem it right to mess with, and cling on, to both you and Silver.

Sebek has always been a bit of clinger. It’s kinda funny to you, cause every time you’ve seen him on the ground, he’d walk with his head held high, as though giving permission for all living things to give praise for the simple act of walking.

Though, despite his large ego, he’s currently dangling between you and Silver, his mouth clamped tight around Silver’s sleeve and his tail half-wrapped around yours. He’s like a personal handcuff, with said handcuff currently trying to shorten the distance between you both.

“Was he always this indecisive?” Usually he’s contented with just being carried around by Silver but it seems this was Sebek’s way of demanding that you both carry him. At least, you think so.

Silver wiped a dish dry as best he could with just one hand before handing it to you to put away. “I think so. I remember a time when he wanted a certain flavor of ice cream but Malleus wanted it. Sebek spent a good hour looking between different flavors before I made them share.”

You shifted a little closer to Silver to open the cupboard, only to find Lilia upside down behind the door. You didn’t really jump in surprise do much as you sucked in a breath. But apparently that was all the noise Lilia allowed you make before he jumped right in your face.

“Woah!” Lilia wrapped his wings around your jaw, making you put a hand under him so he doesn’t dig his claws into your skin for stability. “Uh, Silver? Little help please!”

“I’m sorry. Lilia really does love to misbehave. Hold still a moment.” Silver could only unhook one claw before Lilia gave a chitter and swung himself to Silver’s face. Unlike you, however, Silver didn’t even flinch. He just sighed. “Lilia, it’s not playtime right now. You can’t be causing trouble here.”

You snorted. “You think he cares?”

And Silver replied with resignation, “Not for a single moment in his life.”

Then, something twisted itself around your ankle. Looking down, you spotted a Malleus with his tail around you. He looked up, blinked, then gave the sweetest smile he could possibly give.

“Uh oh,” was all that could escape before Malleus spring boarded right off your foot with a force that always took you by surprise. You tripped to the side while Malleus looped through the space of Silver’s legs before he too lost his balance.

You and Silver collided shoulders and heads, though you both managed to grab the counter before you became a tangled pile of limbs. Malleus twirled around both your shoulders before settled on both your heads.

“That’s gonna swell up so bad,” you hissed out when the threat of falling was gone. You nudged Malleus onto SIlver’s head. “Ow.” “Again, I’m very sorry. I didn’t know they would be this hard to handle, especially since I already let them roam the forest.” Silver rubbed the red spot on the side of his head. That was going to turn into a bruise later on. “I should probably take them out again, for the sake of them behaving. And my sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah you need to do that. Mind if I join though? I could go for a walk.”

The brief moment of silence almost had you dismiss what you just said, but Silver spoke before you could, “Of course, always.”

With a gentle smile, the tips of Silver’s ears turned red.

Vil 10

Summary: Vil doesn’t want you to think he’s been changed beyond recognition, that he’s no longer the little siren you once knew. See, he’s still beautiful. See, he still sings for you. See, he can still touch you. He can…he swears he can.

(…Oh boy, warnings: Implied assault, needles, suffocating and just Vil not being as fine as he wants to be.)

Vil can see the bald patches of skin beneath his feathers.

On his neck, the back of it, hidden beneath his carefully tended to hair, he can feel the naked patches of skin standing out among his lush feathers. He sinks his fingers in those dips, rubbing, hoping to feel some prick on his skin, some needle growth of new feathers coming in but all he can feel is ugly, wrinkled skin.

Delicate skin. Skin that’s so easy to make bleed. Skin that rips off when an angry hand grabs his hair, forces his head at an awkward angle, and tears the feathers right off.

Isn’t he glad that this delicate skin was easy to hide. You don’t have to see them. Don’t have to speculate. And you most certainly don’t have to pity him.

Vil put his hair down, adjusting his clothes to make himself more presentable. He bent down and dipped his hands into the river, rubbing his fingertips on the smooth stones. Time has worn down their chips and edges, worn down everything would stick them out. They comfort him.

Vil let his hands memorize the feeling of cool water and smooth stones, rather than warmth and wrinkles.

…

Vil almost started to doze off against the tree when you had finally arrived to sit next to him. The breeze had carried wisteria petals onto his clothes and hair, but their placement only drew more attention to the prettier parts of him. It was suiting, helped him blend in more with his beautiful home. He didn’t feel as out of place.

But even so, he plucked them off anyway. The focus shouldn’t be on the plants but on Vil himself.

Vil wants you to look at him as he practices his dance. He wants you to admire his unchanging beauty as he lets a song flow from his lips.

Vil only wants you to see the perfect, undamaged parts of him.

Don’t ask if he’s okay, or if he needs to talk. He is fine. Nothing is different. Nothing has changed. Vil is still beautiful and that’s all you really need, isn’t it?

But even so, why do you refuse to touch him? Why do you keep your distance from him? Did you think him as something fragile? Or did you think him as something disgusting?

Oh, but you were always like this, weren’t you? You never went out of your way to force your touch onto others, even when everyone was smaller, cuter, more easily held. If you’re looking for permission, then Vil will give it. If you’re looking for him to initiate, then Vil will do so.

A parting hug. That was all it was supposed to be. A hug given to you after a performance that Vil dedicated to you.

You were stiff, stiffer than he was, when he wrapped his arms around your neck like he tried to do when he was smaller, when he laid a kiss on your cheek like he used to do when he was just the size of your hand. It was shocking, most likely, as you eventually relaxed enough to pat his arms.

But then your hands reached his back.

It was an accident, he was sure of it, for you would never do anything cruel on purpose, but memories don’t care for that, for your intentions. Your hands merely brushed against his hips and waist. The feathers, or what’s left of them, stood on end, they prickled and suddenly Vil felt fingers sink into the soft flesh beneath.

He felt nails dig into them, felt needles being jabbed and scraped against his bones just because, felt his lungs burn as a pillow was stuffed in face just to block any scream or curse he might make. And when Vil felt his hands go free…

Vil dug his claws into your shoulders and made you bleed.

“Shit!” a pain laced cuss pulled Vil right back in, then guilt sunk deep into his bones.

He backed away as you grabbed the long, bleeding gashes on your shoulders. Your jaw was clenched, but another curse slipped out anyway. And when you gazed at him, he could not find the anger that he so deserved aimed at him.

“Hey,” your voice was stiff, and yet… “sorry about that.”

Vil hates his body for locking up, hates his eyes for watering up.

“Please,” he sunk to the ground, “I don’t deserve it.”

Heartslabyul and Diasomnia 1

Summary: Usually Riddle and the rest of his buddies are sunbathing at this time, but instead, they’re all hidden beneath the roots, huddled against one another. Turns out Malleus, Lilia and Sebek were all here.

On a hot day like this, when the sun is high in sky with shade absorbing too much heat to be cooling, you tend to stick to the indoors with a cold drink. Away from direct sunlight, you like to sit by the window leading to the back garden, just so you can see the plant nymphs sitting in their special spots, taking in the sunlight.

But a cursory glance out the window as you sip on some juice yields an empty yard. Only bird song and yelling cicadas entered your ears, with the hot and dry wind rustling the garden rather than the nymphs themselves as they argued among themselves.

“That’s not right,” you murmured, pushing yourself off the chair to unlatch the backdoor. You walked out.

The heat enveloped you like a preheated oven. It’s almost concerning how quick your skin was to start sweating, but that’s not your main focus.

What has your attention was the mass of roots right around the corner of the backyard. It was quivering, but not obviously so. It would’ve been easy to dismiss as just an illusion of the heat but a closer look was all that’s needed to dismiss that. And getting even closer, you spotted little eyes peeking through the gaps in the mass.

You knelt down and brushed a root aside. “What’s up with all of you?”

Ace and Deuce were huddled at the front, Riddle in the middle with Trey and Cater at the his sides. Ace pushed through the tight knit root system to grab your finger and try to pull you in, but he lost his balance and would’ve been left dangling had Deuce not grabbed him. And then it became a weird ladder with Riddle grabbing Deuce, then Trey, then Cater.

Did…did Riddle really forget he can use those roots to help them out? Forgetfulness aside, what are they so jittery over?

They went stock still when you felt something land on your head. Whatever it was, it spread it’s entire body over your scalp until leathery wings covered your ears. You grabbed the creature off your head and dangled it in front of your eyes.

“Lilia?” Poor bat has his energy stolen by the summer heat, but he still had enough to flutter his wings over your face in greeting. And then he let himself go limp once more. Then something bumped against your shoes, giving a rather high and very pathetic whine.

Looking down, you spotted Sebek and his fat tail. He was flopped against your shoe, little hands buried in the grass from probably dragging himself over to you. You gave him mercy and pushed the little guy into the shadow your body cast. “What are even doing all the way over here? It’s too hot.”

Then a familiar trill from high above caught your attention. You felt Ace flinch from your finger and suddenly your entire hand was covered in roots before being yanked into the cluster. It was too small to cover more than your hand, so the mass closed over your wrist.

With a light tap, Malleus landed on top of the quivering root cocoon, smiling a little bigger from the amusement of it all, completely unaffected by the muggy heat that threatens to boil your own sweat. His little fairy lights flowed in and out of his wings, dancing in the air with the familiarity of fire sparks.

“Ah,” you wiggled your fingers around, feeling all five plant nymphs huddle close to you, “you’ve been freaking them out.”

The little dragon sat down, tilting his head as though he did nothing wrong. Little shit. He knows the pranks he’s pulled on them.

“Alright, alright,” you stood up, the roots letting you go quite easily as they never had the strongest grip on you to begin with, “before we all bake, let’s get everyone inside.”

You want more juice anyway.

Silver 2

Summary: Your voice wasn’t enough to make Silver focus on you. So, when you noticed him begin to slip into sleep again, you slammed your hand against the wall behind him.

“—and for that I would like to propose that funds be focused on…on…huh.” Looking up from your practice speech cards, you spotted Silver bobbing his head, “Silver, you listening?”

His head snapped up, sleepily blinking once, twice, and suddenly his consciousness returned to his eyes. He sat up straighter in his chair, eyebrows screwing up a bit at the creaking noise it made, and sighed out his disappointment in himself.

“I’m sorry,” he pressed his fingers against his eyelids, “I promised myself to stay awake for this. I even cut back on training a bit so I don’t overdo it, but I really can’t help myself at times.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you sat back down, waving him off as you spread your cards on the table, already tired from just a few minutes of confident speaker mode, “where did you start dozing off? I might have to change some sentences if they’re not enough to catch your attention. There’s nothing worse than a bored audience, especially with boring shit like this.”

“…”

You raised an eyebrow as Silver closed his eyes, his mouth twitching in concentration.

“Silver,” you called again, leaning in closer just to see if he wasn’t dozing off once more, “up to where did you start dozing off?”

“…” Silver turned away from you, as shame written all over his face despite how stoic it was, “…I’m sorry.”

You gave a deep sigh right into your hands.

“Maybe it’s best you get a new partner to listen to you speech,” Silver sighed along with you.

“No no no,” You shook a hand at him before he could recommend a different person for the job, “I asked you specifically because if my speech can make you, of all people, stay awake, then I can keep everyone’s attention long enough to actually listen and take me seriously.”

“I’m aware, but,” Silver tilted his back for a bit, debating something before his face locked into one of determination, “perhaps you should start from the beginning? If I fall asleep again, maybe you can slap me awake?”

You started collecting your note cards, raising a questioning eyebrow at him, “You sure about that?”

Silver locked eyes with you. “I’m certain.”

“Alright, let’s try again.” You suppose, considering he’s meant to be a bodyguard, he might have a higher pain tolerance. He says he can take, and you’re inclined to believe it, but…well, you’ll think of something.

“Now, I would like to begin my introduction—”

“—and for that I would like to propose that funds be focused on a mental health program,” You made sure to pay attention to when Silver started to nod off.

The signs are not exactly subtle, but when you have to pay attention not only to the volume and clear tone of your voice, but also make sure you don’t misread or mispronounce a word, a lot of obvious tells tend to slip by.

But, luckily, you noticed when his head started to dip down, when his eyes began to wander to the patterns carved into the wood of the table.

“While, by all means, the students of Night Raven College are adults in their own right, they’re still young,” you walked around the table, towards Silver. He didn’t notice.

“Their minds,” you reeled back and slammed your hand against the wall behind Silver, shocking him awake, “are still pliant, with much to learn to handle issues beyond just the physical aspect.”

Silver’s eyes widened as you leaned in close. You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his reddening ears as you whisper, “One can’t have a healthy body if their mind isn’t following the same path. Don’t you agree, dear Silver?”

Mind dumb from both being shocked awake and your closeness, all Silver could possibly do was nod along.

You stood back up, clapping a hand on Silver’s back in cheer, “Hey, you managed to stay awake! I’m proud of you!”

You’re still going to add in some changes, but hey, at least you got something fun out of it.

Silver 3

Summary: You thought someone was trying to kidnap Hornton from his resting place on your tall stone fence. Turns out the person who’s arm you’re grabbing was Silver. Whoops.

It’s a rare day for the little dragon to be here at your house. The sun is out after all, and it’s a bit too hot, honestly. But, ah, Hornton has scales too doesn’t he? He’s probably cold blooded like Jamil, so maybe that’s why he’s here, sunbathing on the sun heated stone of your wall.

But then again, he also visited you during the snow season, in the middle of the night, when frost was forming on the edges of your window and you wanted nothing more than for the weight of your blankets to crush you. Maybe he’s just made of harder stuff than Jamil? Oh well, as long as he’s not hurt, you’re fine.

You swept away the dead leaves towards a pile the other plant nymphs have, used specifically for mulch. You don’t know how they do it, but they do and the backyard garden has never been more lush with life.

Hornton is certainly enjoying the atmosphere as well, judging by the way he was lazily flicking the shuttering tree leaves with his tail.

But then you saw his tail hit a wandering hand. A wandering human hand.

You dropped your broom and dashed over to the wall. You planted your foot on a decorative stone and launched yourself up. You grabbed a study tree branch, maneuvered your body until you were half way over the wall, and latched onto the wrist trying to grab at the little dragon who has not moved from his spot. You shielded Hornton with your arm.

“Who the fuck—!” you stopped when you met shocked eyes and silver hair, “Silver?!”

“Ah, uh,” Silver’s expression didn’t so much relax as it went awkward, “oh, this is your house?”

The familiar sight of his face has your blood cool down, but you still can’t help but feel tense. You didn’t let go of his wrist.

“Yeah. Yeah, I live here,” you tried to adjust yourself into a more comfortable position on the wall, but that’s rather limited considering you’re still holding onto his arm, along with the fact most of your weight is placed on your elbows, “What were you trying to do?”

If he gives a wrong or suspicious answer, you will break his arm. Or try to dislocate it via letting go of your grip on the wall.

“I was trying to take Malleus home,” Silver pointed with the arm you’re holding, “it’s his feeding time. He digs a hold in my cupboards if I don’t do it on time.”

“Malleus?” you tested the name on your tongue, as though that’ll bring a familiar face to mind.

Then you heart a gentle trill from under you. Looking down, you saw Hornton with his face against the crook of your elbow.

“Malleus?” you tried again. Malleus responded in kind. You turned back to Silver, pointing to the dragon that’s been making his second home here. “This is him?”

A dragon fae? Said to be extremely expensive to get, hard to find, and are known for being incredibly hard to please with magic so potent it’s akin to raising a force of nature?

Silver nodded, “I’m sorry for all the trouble he’s caused. Also,” He jostled his arm, “can you let go, please?”

“Oh right.” You let go, and promptly slipped and landed on the ground below. It wasn’t a high fall, luckily, but still, “Ouch.”

Ace and Deuce 3

Summary: Falling back onto old, bullying habits has torn a chunk out of both their minds when they find out you were disgusted with them. Ace and Deuce camp outside your dorm, sneaking in food, hoping you'll allow them to be in your presence once more.

“It’s your fault,” the words slipped out of Ace, more of out of habit than anything. They lacked any of the vicious bite he would usually aim towards Deuce. “you just had to bash that guy’s skull in.”

Deuce only sunk deeper into his sleeping bag, “Says you. I’m not the one who gouged out his eyes.”

Though, it’s not as if Deuce even bothered to stop him. The conversation, if it can be considered one, lulled from there. It’s less an attempt to actually argue and more just something to fill the silence. A distraction of sorts, from the fact you hated them both.

From the fact you shut them out.

They both had a list filled with people that wanted nothing more than to kick you out of here, or make you their new gopher, or their new target for any all frustrations. It’s easy to find these people, especially when Ace and Deuce were once a part of them. But they know they can’t continue to be with them, not when you were right at the center of their minds. Not when they’ve accepted that their hearts shall beat only for you.

And so they wait. Every day, outside this dorm, leaving you food and water by a window where you can’t see them, because Ace told Deuce that you needed time to cool down, so they can’t just waltz up to the door and hand it over to them.

They had to grit their teeth and stay hidden, until one day, you’ll finally open the door.

“Behave.”

A single order fell from your lips after two weeks of silence, two weeks of camping outside your dorm, hoping to catch some of your noises, two weeks of holding onto a weak and fragile hope.

You had opened the door and spoke this single order.

“If you can behave, then we can pretend to be friends again,” you walked past them, past the filthy selves of Ace and Deuce, overdue work and papers at hand, “I’ll eat at the cafeteria, I’ll sit with you, and I’ll pretend you both don’t disgust me with your every second of living.” You turned to them, gaze steady and stern, “But only if you behave.”

Ace is as pathetic as they come. When warmth surged through his body, when he felt his blood fill up with newfound hope and endless love, the first thing he wanted to do was spit at the source and pretend it didn’t affect him, even though it’s been a week since he’s last showered if rain didn’t count. He almost would have too had it not been for Deuce.

Deuce knew himself to be honest to a fault, whether for better or for worse. His eyes heated up, blurring at the corner when you finally exited your dorm, when you finally made eye contact with them. And when you spoke, when you focused your gaze on them as though they mattered more than the twirling leaves around you, Deuce was already a teary mess. Even so, his instincts are sharp, and Deuce slapped a hand over Ace’s big mouth before he could open it up.

“Tha—” Deuce’s hiccuped, jostling both himself and a tearing up Ace now that he can’t say words to protect his soft heart, “Thank you!”

Ace nudged Deuce’s hand out of the way, mumbling out a shy, “Well be good. So don't ignore us, okay?”

Vil honestly, in my opinion, is best written character in TWST. Imagine working yourself to the bone, being strict with others only because you know for a fact that they can do better and you want them to succeed too. Trying to make everything perfect, because you know you can do it. You have the skills. So why, why is nothing coming out right?! Why is no one noticing?! Is it not good enough? Then everything you worked for just crumbles around you. Honestly Vil deserves way more recognition.

Yes yes, so much yes! Vil, my beloved.

And there's even more to him pushing people for their own betterment. Vil is a person who sees opportunities even where the person themselves may often not recognize them. But Vil also puts a tremendous amount of work into helping each specific person. In his dorm uniform story, we learn just how deep his interest in his dorm members' well-being runs. He keeps notes about the dorm members' homelands and allergies and body types and he works to make specific diets and training routines that fit all of that for each person. And furthermore, he also makes cosmetics for students who can't afford to buy their own to make sure they always have quality products to take care of themselves. Vil literally does so much that we never see Neige doing and the way he gets treated both by the industry he works in and by the game's irl fandom is so unfair.

We love and appreciate Vil Schoenheit on this blog.