#Kalim

[iwillpsychicallyfightyou]

i turned the girls hair red for this, everyone praise me for the detail

[lettucedoodles]

Kalim omnomnonmnomnom eat foods :3

[hyliansunflower]

We made a few photos for practicing using colored lights, and the result was pretty cool.

I have yet to finish sewing Kalim's dorm uniform, but we did what we could with what we had! :3

[solxamber]

Jealousy, Jealousy with: Housewardens

Riddle Rosehearts

It was honestly impressive how oblivious some people could be.

You weren’t even doing anything particularly inviting—just standing in the courtyard, minding your own business—when someone you barely knew strolled up and started laying it on thick.

“Wow, you must be tired,” they grinned, leaning a little too close for comfort. “From running through my mind all day.”

You stared. Slowly blinked. “...I literally don’t know who you are.”

They laughed, undeterred. “Oh, a little mystery! I like that. We should get to know each other. How about a—”

Before they could finish, a very distinct presence materialized beside you, and suddenly, your hand was clasped in a vice grip.

You turned your head, already stifling a grin. Riddle stood stiffly at your side, his expression carefully neutral—too neutral—but his fingers tightened around yours with unmistakable possessiveness.

And then, in the most Riddle way possible, he opened his mouth and immediately started critiquing their uniform.

“Your tie is loose, your shirt is untucked, and your posture is abysmal,” he declared, gaze sharp. “It’s disgraceful. If you have time to loiter and bother people who are clearly uninterested, then you certainly have time to fix your appearance.”

The person, previously brimming with confidence, visibly withered. “I—wait, you’re—”

“Housewarden Rosehearts,” Riddle confirmed, tone clipped. “And if you ever plan to talk to my partner again, I strongly suggest you do so properly dressed.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—without another word—the person bolted, nearly tripping over themselves in their rush to escape.

The moment they were gone, you turned to Riddle, your amusement barely contained. “Riddle,” you said, voice dripping with mirth. “Were you jealous?”

He scoffed, tugging at his collar. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You raised a brow, glancing pointedly at the way his grip on your hand hadn’t loosened in the slightest. Then, you took in the very obvious, very intense red dusting his cheeks.

He refused to meet your eyes.

You laughed, delighted, and before he could protest further, you leaned in and kissed him, pressing a quick, affectionate peck to his still burning cheek.

Riddle went still.

“…You are jealous,” you whispered against his skin, just to tease.

“I am not,” he insisted, but his voice cracked ever so slightly, and that was enough to send you into another fit of laughter.

Still smiling, you tugged on his hand, leading him away. “Come on, let’s go do something fun before you start assigning uniform inspections as an act of vengeance.”

Riddle let out a heavy sigh, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he laced his fingers more firmly with yours, the corners of his lips twitching—just barely—before he let you drag him along.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was going to lose his mind.

Three days.

Three days of watching you run around with those two idiots and that furball, pouring over textbooks, muttering formulas under your breath, completely oblivious to the fact that he existed.

You were studying. Fine. He got it. But you were studying with them.

And not him.

The moment the door to Ramshackle creaked open, you knew.

It was a sixth sense at this point—an awareness of a certain presence, of a lazy kind of arrogance that filled the air like a storm cloud waiting to break.

And break it did.

Because before you could so much as blink, a heavy arm was slung around your shoulders, and your entire world tilted.

You let out a startled yelp as you were bodily dragged from the dorm, Ace and Deuce frozen mid-review session, Grim’s tail puffed up in sheer betrayal.

“Oi—!”

“Not oi,” Leona drawled, utterly unbothered by your flailing. “Mine.”

You spluttered. “Leona, I have to study!”

“You can study later,” he dismissed, hauling you across campus with a grip so firm you had no choice but to stumble along. “You’re overdue for a break."

“I don’t have time for a break—”

“You do” he interrupted smoothly, and that was that.

You huffed, glaring up at him. “This is kidnapping.”

“Tch. If I was kidnapping you, I wouldn’t be this obvious about it.”

That was… not reassuring.

By the time he finally dumped you onto his bed, you were half-expecting him to declare an official study ban, but instead, he settled in beside you, his arms casually looping around your waist, his body half-draped over yours like an oversized, incredibly smug blanket.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against your shoulder, voice low and easy. “Study.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Here?”

He hummed. “Why not? I got old notes. Bet they’re better than whatever those idiots are using.”

You blinked. “You actually have notes?”

Leona scoffed, reaching over to grab a notebook from his desk. “What, you think I just guessed my way through school?” He flipped it open and, to your absolute shock, the pages were filled with neatly written summaries, key points highlighted with the kind of precision that suggested he did actually pay attention. “See?”

“…I hate that this is actually useful.”

“Told you.”

You sighed, already feeling yourself sink into the warmth of him, the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing, the way his fingers tapped lazily against your side, like he knew you were starting to relax and was deliberately making it worse.

Still. If you had to study, this wasn’t… terrible.

You let your head rest against his shoulder, flipping through the notes. “Fine. But if I fall asleep, it’s your fault.”

Leona smirked, his breath warm against your skin. “Then I guess you’ll just have to take a nap right here.”

You rolled your eyes, but the next time you felt him shift, the unmistakable curve of his smile pressing into your neck, you didn’t even bother fighting it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul Ashengrotto was a patient man.

A calculated man.

A businessman.

Which was the only reason he hadn’t already torn his hair out strand by agonized strand over the fact that you had been frequenting some other café for the past two weeks.

At first, he’d assumed it was a novelty thing. Maybe you had a moment of curiosity. Maybe they had some limited-time drink that you needed to try. Maybe you’d simply gotten lost—it happened more often than you liked to admit.

But no. You had kept going.

Loyal, devoted, regular patronage.

To a café that was not the Mostro Lounge.

Azul could not abide it.

So, instead of despairing in silence, he took action.

The next time you announced you were heading there, Azul smiled, adjusted his glasses, and accompanied you.

Because if there was something about this place that had captured your attention, then he would analyze it, perfect it, and eliminate the competition before they could even think about stealing away his most treasured customer.

(And partner. But semantics.)

At first, it seemed innocent enough. You gushed over some ridiculous limited-menu item with a starry-eyed enthusiasm that made him fond despite himself, but it was just cake. Cake was replaceable. Cake was replicable. Cake was nothing.

And then the owner came out.

Azul didn’t move, but his businessman’s smile settled into place with all the calculated precision of a predator fixing its gaze upon its prey.

The café owner, meanwhile, had their full attention on you.

And they were far too familiar.

Far too comfortable.

Far too eager.

Their eyes crinkled with warmth when they spoke to you, their laughter was just a touch too soft, and their entire demeanor—

Azul’s fingers twitched. He did not clench them into fists, because that would be petty, but—

He was going to destroy them.

With a pleasant, affable smile, of course.

By the time you finished your cake (which Azul had methodically analyzed with every bite), he had already formulated seventeen different ways to not only outdo this café, but to erase its relevance entirely.

He escorted you back to your room, silent for once, but his mind was racing.

And then, after a long pause, he asked, “Do you enjoy their presence?”

You blinked. “Who?”

“The owner.”

You stared at him, visibly baffled. “…I like their cake?”

Azul opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

And then, after a long, suffering pause, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, because of course you hadn’t noticed.

Because of course you had been utterly, entirely oblivious to the way they had been practically fawning over you.

He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

So, in the end, he simply pulled you close and kissed you, long and lingering, with a kind of slow, consuming possessiveness that had you melting against him in pleased surprise.

He held you the entire night, unwilling to let go, much to your delighted confusion.

And if, a week later, the Mostro Lounge mysteriously unveiled a bigger, better, and undeniably tastier version of that limited-edition cake, effectively nullifying any reason for you to return to that café—

Well.

Azul had no comment.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim insisted on picking you up after class every day, no matter how many times you told him it wasn’t necessary. He always laughed, dismissing your protests with a wave of his hand, as if the very idea of not meeting you after class was ridiculous. “Why wouldn’t I? I like seeing you first thing after class! It makes my whole day better!” And, honestly, how could you argue with that?

So, as usual, you waited outside, looking for that familiar flash of red and gold. You didn’t mind—Kalim was always quick, always eager, and always a little over-the-top about it, greeting you with his usual sunbeam of a grin and a greeting so enthusiastic it was like he hadn’t just seen you that morning.

But today, before Kalim arrived, someone else approached.

At first, you thought it was just an overly friendly upperclassman looking to chat, but the way they leaned in, the way their eyes swept over you, made your skin crawl. Their words were dripping with false charm, their smile just a little too knowing, and the moment they took your hand, something in you snapped.

You were seconds away from yanking yourself free and letting them know exactly what you thought about their audacity—

And then, before you could react, a firm hand wrenched theirs away from you.

You turned, eyes widening in surprise, and saw Kalim standing beside you.

Only—this wasn’t the Kalim you were used to.

There was no bright, carefree smile, no cheerful energy. His expression was carefully blank, his eyes steady and serious in a way that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. He wasn’t angry—no, you’d seen Kalim angry before, and this was something different. This was controlled, quiet disapproval as he stared the person down, his grip on their wrist unyielding.

“Don’t touch them.” His voice was even, but there was no room for argument.

The person sputtered something, an attempt at an excuse, but Kalim’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t shout, didn’t make a scene, didn’t need to. The sheer weight of his presence was enough, and after a tense pause, the person hurried off, clearly rattled.

And just like that, Kalim let out a breath and turned back to you, his usual grin slipping easily back into place, warm and reassuring. “Are you okay?”

You blinked.

Your heart was pounding. Not from fear—not even from lingering discomfort—but from something else entirely.

Because, apparently, Kalim without his smile was unfairly, ridiculously attractive.

You managed to nod, clearing your throat, forcing yourself to breathe as he took your hand—gently, reverently, the complete opposite of the unwanted touch from before. He squeezed it lightly, beaming at you as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.

Later that night, as the two of you lounged together, he confessed, a little sheepishly, “I hated seeing them touch you.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if just remembering it made his stomach twist.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, leaning in to kiss him. He hummed against your lips, pleased, the jealousy from earlier completely forgotten.

And if, after that, Kalim insisted on being even quicker to meet you after class, practically appearing the second you stepped outside—well, who were you to complain?

Vil Schoenheit

You had been meticulous in your planning. A surprise party to celebrate Vil’s latest movie role—because, really, any excuse to throw a party for him was a good one. You coordinated with Rook (a double-edged sword, given his enthusiasm), found the perfect venue, picked out a cake that was as extravagant as he was, and carefully avoided any suspicion.

Or at least, you thought you had.

Vil, on the other hand, was about five minutes away from losing the last thread of his sanity.

You had been avoiding him. Not in the obvious, dramatic way—but in the subtle, infuriating way that made his stomach twist unpleasantly. Shorter conversations, quick kisses before running off, whispering in dim hallways with Rook, of all people.

Rook, who delighted in keeping secrets and spoke in riddles even when he wasn’t actively trying to be cryptic. Every time Vil so much as entered the room, your conversations stopped, and all he got was your innocent, suspiciously wide-eyed smile.

It was unacceptable.

But Vil was not jealous. Of course not. He was above something so irrational. Why should he feel threatened? The very idea of it was absurd. He was merely… curious. Concerned. Watching you sneak around with Rook had been horrible for his blood pressure, but jealous? Certainly not.

(And if his skincare routine had gotten even more rigorous to account for stress-induced breakouts, that was purely coincidental.)

So when you finally waltzed into his room, all bright-eyed and smiling, telling him to get dressed, his patience—what little remained—snapped.

In one smooth motion, he had you caged in against his vanity.

You blinked up at him, startled. “Uh. Hi?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You have been distracted lately.”

“Uh.” Your bluffing instincts kicked in, but it was useless. Vil’s gaze was sharp, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t look angry, exactly—he looked… hurt.

And, well. That was enough to shatter your resolve immediately.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!” You blurted, hands flying up in surrender. “We planned a surprise party for your movie premiere, and I didn’t want to ruin it! That’s why I’ve been sneaking around!”

Silence.

And then—

Vil laughed.

Not a quiet chuckle. Not a delicate, amused exhale. No, he laughed so hard that he had to lean on you for support, his entire body shaking with it.

And just like that, the tension was gone. He exhaled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before straightening. “Next time,” he said, smoothing his hands over your shoulders, “just tell me.”

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-fond. “That ruins the surprise.”

“Surprises are overrated,” he declared. “Now, come. You planned this party, and I refuse to let you attend it looking anything less than perfect.”

Before you could protest, he had already grabbed your wrist, dragging you toward his closet.

And honestly? After all that turmoil, matching outfits was the least he deserved.

Idia Shroud

Idia had been off all evening.

Not in the usual, grumbly, "the outside world is a waking nightmare" kind of way. No, this was different. This was pointed.

He was pouting.

You had first noticed it when he refused to meet your gaze, keeping his head turned at an almost comical angle whenever you tried to look at him. Even when you sat next to him, close enough that your shoulders brushed, he still wouldn’t acknowledge you.

At first, you thought he was just having an introvert moment. But then you noticed his fingers—tapping on his controller in short, stilted bursts, his usual fluid movements replaced with something far more sulky.

Something was wrong. And worse, he was refusing to tell you.

So, naturally, you did what any reasonable person would do.

You grabbed his face.

“??!!??!” Idia made an undignified noise as your hands squished his cheeks, forcing him to finally look at you. His wide eyes darted around frantically, looking for an escape, but you just leaned in, resting your forehead against his.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did.”

For a second, he wavered. You could see it—the way his hands twitched, his lips pressed together in a battle between staying mad and melting like he always did when you held him like this.

But then—betrayal. Pure, unfiltered betrayal flashed in his eyes.

“If you don’t even realize your crimes,” he huffed, “then you don’t deserve to be told.”

…Huh.

You blinked at him, torn between concern and immense amusement. His cheeks were puffed up in an actual pout, his shoulders slightly hunched like an offended cat. His hair even flickered with a dramatic little sizzle, the blue flames crackling indignantly.

So, you did what any responsible partner would do in this situation.

You kissed his cheek.

He made another noise—this one more flustered than betrayed—but at least he wasn’t turning away anymore.

“Idiaaaa,” you coaxed, voice lilting as you gently rubbed soothing circles against his jaw. “Come on. Tell me.”

He hesitated.

Then, in a grievously wounded tone, he finally muttered:

“You did your dailies… without me. Who did you do them with?”

You stared at him.

“…That’s it?”

He gasped, looking even more betrayed. “That’s it?!”

Okay. Maybe not the best response.

“I just—” You tried to stifle your laugh, but failed miserably. “I didn’t know it was that serious—”

“IT IS,” he declared. “We have an unspoken promise! Every night! We do our dailies! We do our pulls! We suffer together in the gacha mines!” He gestured wildly, his voice spiking in distress. “And today—today, you—you—” His voice wobbled. “You betrayed me.”

You clutched your chest in mock horror. “I have committed the greatest of sins.”

“You HAVE.”

You bit your lip, barely holding back another laugh, but then—then you saw his face. The dramatic pout, the still-flickering flames, the way his fingers fidgeted against his sleeve.

And suddenly, it hit you.

This wasn’t just about the dailies. This was his time with you. The one moment of the day where it was just the two of you, side by side, relaxed and rambling about nonsense while farming loot drops.

And you had accidentally robbed him of it.

Your amusement softened into something warmer. You pulled him closer, letting your fingers trail through his hair as you pressed another kiss to his cheek—longer this time.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, resting your chin against his shoulder. “I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I did them alone, by the way.”

He mumbled something under his breath, still sulking, but at least he wasn’t pulling away.

“I promise I’ll wait for you every day from now on,” you continued, letting your fingers trace comforting patterns into his back. “Okay?”

“…Tch,” he muttered. Then, after a long pause, he finally slumped against you, his entire weight pressing into your chest.

You grinned. Victory.

“…You are watching the Premo concert reruns with me as compensation, though,” he grumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, amused. “Fine, fine.”

And that was how you ended up in Idia’s room for hours, marathoning concerts.

And if you showed up to class the next day completely wrecked from lack of sleep?

It was fine.

As long as Idia was happy.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia is above petty emotions.

He is the Prince of Briar Valley, an ancient being of immense power, the strongest fae in existence—he does not succumb to something as trivial as jealousy.

…That is what he tells himself as he watches you, once again, being hopelessly kind to people who clearly do not deserve it.

He watches as you nod along to Crowley’s latest absurd request, despite the fact that everyone knows that the headmaster is little more than a well-dressed menace with a penchant for delegating all responsibility to you.

He watches as some random student—a student who has never once acknowledged your existence before—approaches you with a bright, eager smile, undoubtedly about to ask you for yet another favor.

And he feels a peculiar, simmering sensation coil in his chest.

Malleus is not petty. He does not get jealous.

But he does dislike seeing you taken advantage of.

So, before this interloper can even get a word out, Malleus simply appears by your side, materializing in that eerie, seamless way that only he can. His presence alone is enough to make the student stumble back in terror, but then—just to be certain—he reaches out and takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours with casual ease.

The effect is instantaneous.

The student goes pale. Their entire body stiffens, eyes darting between you and Malleus as if calculating whether their life is worth whatever ridiculous request they were about to make. The answer, apparently, is no, because they immediately spin on their heel and flee.

Malleus watches them go, his expression carefully neutral.

He usually dislikes the way people fear him. But today?

…Today, he finds himself rather pleased.

Satisfied, he turns back to you, fully expecting you to be grateful for his intervention. Perhaps a soft smile, a quiet "thank you," maybe even a fond squeeze of his hand—

Instead, he is met with your grin.

That knowing, teasing grin.

The one that says you know exactly what he just did. The one that says you know he is not as above jealousy as he claims to be. The one that says, without words, oh, so you’re feeling possessive today?

Malleus pointedly ignores it.

“Come,” he says smoothly, giving your hand the lightest tug. “Let us go somewhere… peaceful.”

You let him pull you along, but not without looping your arm around his and leaning into him with unmistakable amusement.

Malleus pretends he does not notice.

Masterlist

[kokii-omii]

"i thought he'd be upset with me for crash landing in the fountain"

"but when i looked over at him..."

"He was laughing!"

[qwakque]

stuffs

[random-twst-things]

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Jamil ?

Jamil, in the middle of cooking: … No.

Kalim: I do!

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: I know, Kalim.

Kalim: I’m sad!

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: I know, Kalim.

Dividers from/by @/cafekitsune

[fima11]

Kalim (I love him so much he is my comfort character)

[rabioa]

˙⋆✮Royalty Bites✮⋆˙

TWST Modern Vampire AU Featuring Malleus, Leona, and Kalim <3

Imagine you inherit an old manor from your eccentric grandmother and decide to move there. Your grandmother swore up and down on the supernatural, and even though you didn't believe her, you still loved her. The house is on the outskirts of a small and cute town, but little do you know, the town of Night Raven is a secret haven for vampires and humans to live peacefully together.

This is a continuation of my Vampire Town post. I decided to do the royal trio since I have some idea of how they work lol. Feel free to request specific scenarios or characters!! <33 Thank you for reading and as usual, this isn't beta read.

Vampire!Malleus is the prince of all vampires. You have vampire nobility and the "Dracula," who is considered the king of all vampires. The current Dracula is Maleanor, and Malleus is considered the prince of vampires. He was sent to the small town of Night Raven to learn more about peacefully coexisting with humans.

One day, you buy some hanging flowers and hang them from the mouths of a few gargoyles you have. It gives it a splash of color. Later that night, you slip outside since you can't sleep, and you see a man??? Standing in front of your flowers?? It's Vampire!Malleus. He's looking at your gargoyles.

But you're used to it with all the weird interactions you've had over the past month. So you just talk with him. He's clearly someone, and you don't know who, so you refer to him as Fangton for now. He's polite conversation and he seems really amused. You end up on the topic of gargoyles, and you're glad you did since he lights up with joy. You discuss how the metal handle of the flower pot might damage the mouth, and you decide you'll get rope to replace it. Vampire!Malleus instead decides that you don't need to wait. He extended his hand, and thorny rose vines grew, twisting and weaving, until they formed a rope holding up the pot. Yeah, that's when you discovered the world of royal powers.

Vampire!Malleus who you begin to meet occasionally to chat. It's very calm and peaceful, and although you don't know his name, you enjoy his presence nonetheless. He always disappears after you both finish talking, and one time, you see how he does it: He literally dissolves into mist, floating away as a small cloud glittering in the moonlight like fireflies.

Vampire!Malleus who you confront about being THE prince of vampires one night after learning the truth from Riddle. He confesses plainly and is pleased when you decide to treat him the same. After that, you both become great friends. You've even had small tea parties together, discussing gargoyles, vampires, and whatever else your hearts desire. You get the sense that he's a bit lonely from the way he talks about the town, and you're nothing if not determined to fix that!

Vampire!Leona who you find lounging in your garden. At first, you think he's human since it's daytime and he's sleeping under your tree in the grass. You're bewildered and approach him to check if he's alive, but when you get close enough, he cracks one eye open to stare at you. His eyes are such a vibrant green that you immediately cue in that he's a vampire, but you're confused. Why is he here?? In your garden???

Vampire!Leona who tells you to leave him alone, little herbivore. His attitude annoys you, so you tell him off. He looks at you, unimpressed, and condescendingly talks about how a simple groundskeeper can't boss him around. When you reveal you're the granddaughter of the previous owner and now the new owner, he opens both eyes to look at you.

Vampire!Leona who stands up and grabs your face, tilting your head and inspecting you for any signs of your grandmother. His lets you go, withdrawing his fingers as they brush against your neck. He teases you a little before he slinks away.

Occasionally, you catch Vampire!Leona outside under the same tree, and you've eventually got used to him. You both bicker while you tend to the garden, but he seems pretty harmless. One day, you question why he wasn't burning in light, and he revealed he was royalty, and royalty doesn't burn. He's laying there with his chest puffed out with arrogance and pride. You're flabbergasted because this thing is royalty? Not very royal to you. You off handedly mention how Malleus gives more elegant and royal vibes than Leona. That seems to tick him off.

Over the next few weeks, Vampire!Leona is trying to subtly flaunt how much power and elegance he has. He randomly hands you very expensive items or occasionally (and very lazily) helps you weed out the garden by poking the weeds and they crumble into dust with his royal powers. Careful with his ego. Question his powers too much, and you might find yourself with a hands-on demonstration. Don't worry though; he probably won't kill you.

Vampire!Kalim who you meet after getting a mysterious invitation to a banquet. You didn't plan on going until Rook appeared outside your window while you were reading the invitation and mentioned how fun the banquets are. He assured you it wasn't a trap or anything and was very human-friendly!

You came to the party held at a very fancy manor in the town. Instantly, there is so much stimulation. There's live music, dancing, food, games, and so many other things going on all at once. You feel nearly out of place until you see a few familiar faces in the crowd. You stuck with your group until Vampire!Kalim approached you. He's so excited to meet you!! He's heard so much about you!!!

Vampire!Kalim coaxes you into indulging in many of the party's activities. You danced till you were dizzy, ate delicacies you didn't even know existed, and took part in various minigames. You weren't very good at some of these things, but Kalim's infectious energy made it impossible not to smile and have fun.

Once you've had your fill and you're overstimulated and ready to sit in the silence of your house, Vampire!Kalim offers to show you something magical. From what you've seen, he's absolutely harmless, so you follow. He takes you to a balcony and shows you a magic carpet, much to the dismay of his long black-haired servant. You didn't expect to see a real flying carpet today, but who were you to complain?

You discover Vampire!Kalim is actually royalty and thus has powers beyond the average vampire. It makes sense, considering the other royal vampires you've met. The magic carpet is a gift from his father, who can animate inanimate things. Kalim explains he can animate water, something his father can't do. After your little journey through the sky, he takes you to a fountain and creates fantastical shapes of water, depicting happy scenes of animals dancing, food twirling, and people being merry. Once your eyes begin to droop, he takes you home, telling you to rest up nicely and that you're always invited over. He's so happy he's made a new friend!!

[cupsntuna]

CHAT WE DONT TALK ABOUT THIS ENOUGH.?????

[auren-zagarra]

OK, PICTURE THIS: Fem!Reader who's really pretty but is trying to kill Leona, Kalim and Malleus because someone paid her. BUUUUT the guys think she's cute and transform her in a concubine.

that's my request, dear writer. please, have fun!

lamina et oscula

Content Warning: Leona x F!Reader, Kalim x F!Reader, Malleus x F!Reader, attempted murder, concubines, slight blackmailing, Malleus being delusional due to the absence of Yuu, sex, breeding kink, MDNI

Characters Count: 18199

The so-called "Kings of the Jungle" earned their title for a reason. While not the strongest of felines, their strength was still formidable and their society was well-established. Just like the animals, the Kingscholars - a race of beastmen with lion-like traits - were the rulers of the Afterglow Savannah. Naturally, such power would stir envy, making the deaths of Falena and Cheka undoubtedly a wish for many people, serving the selfish desires of those who coveted their position. You were hired by one of these individuals. However, whether due to insufficient information or your own mistake, the wrong brother became your target. You strongly pressed the cold blade of your knife against Leona’s neck, holding him down on the floor - pressing hard enough to make some blood drops taint the weapon. “Don’t move, king.”

"Ah, so now I am a king?" The man’s voice dripped with sarcasm. "How… honored.” he added, clearly mocking your attempt. You raised an eyebrow, momentarily unsure of his intent. But before you could process, he swiftly disarmed you, pinning your body against the cold floor and pressing your own weapon against your throat. "You let your guard down, Herbivor." he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Despite the gravity of the moment, Leona couldn't resist a hint of amusement… while you, on the other hand, were gripped by terror. For the first time in your life, you found yourself trapped - and you knew that your appearance would offer no salvation this time. There was a time when your looks served to get you closer to your target, but now they would do nothing to save you from the consequences of attempting to kill a prince. Yet, even as fear surged through you, you refused to show weakness. With a steady voice, you spoke, "Hurting a woman? How cowardly."

“I’m not a coward, I’m simply treating you as an equal. If I were truly one, I’d be offering you my head on a silver platter. But, I’m not the kind of man who would present such a convenient gift.” His words oozed with disdain as he showed you a cocky smile, the tension between you two ended up becoming so palpable. Your expression spoke louder than your silence - fear. Perhaps Leona, sensing your insignificance or simply unwilling to take on the burden of dealing with a potential murder, chose to let you go. With a dismissive sigh, he allowed you to leave, unconcerned. “I can’t help but wonder, what the fuck you had on mind. Attempt to kill a Kingscholar? Looking for an early exit or what?”

“... Money.” You spoke, still seated on the ground, your voice barely above a whisper. Embarrassment flushed your face, and you mumbled, “They offered me a hundred coins for the heads of Falena and Cheka.” For a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lion’s expression - shock mixed with a faint, yet unmistakable, amusement. “So, a life worth fifty coins to you?” He paused, as if pondering this absurdity, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. After a brief moment, he returned his attention to you. “Money, huh? Tell me, if I were to offer you a role at court that didn’t involve the whole murder business, would that satisfy you?” Your eyes shifted, intrigue flickering within them as you considered the offer. In that instant, Leona revealed his true intentions with a smug grin: you would be the prince’s concubine.

Despite accepting such an offer, you rarely played the role expected of you. Leona seemed disinterested in your physical presence - more often than not, you found yourself in the position of a glorified maid, practically forcing the twenty-year-old to eat his vegetables. Yet, no matter how you tried to keep things distant, the sheer amount of time you spent together made it impossible not to grow closer. Slowly, the platonic gestures between you began to shift, growing more intimate. What started as innocent touches soon carried an undeniable, lingering undertone - a tension that was thick with lust. It seemed inevitable that one day, you would find yourself entwined with Kingscholar, experiencing fulfillment in ways that left you exhilarated through the night by his unexpectedly skilled hands. His member was able to bring you an ecstasy you never thought you would be able to feel.

The prince's movements were brutal yet precise, leaving no aspect of satisfaction unmet. Despite his exterior, Leona was devoted to paying attention to every contour of your form, fixating particularly on your ass. His relentless grasping and thrusting sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you making moans escape from your lips like you were some kind of cheap whore. Each time pleasure tears streamed down your cheeks, the beastman couldn't help but feel a perverse sense of pride from the sight - prompting him to sink his teeth into your flesh, claiming your entire being as his own. Though you were a beauty, you also possessed a cunning intelligence that made you a formidable threat, like some kind of venomous snake ready to attack - which in his view was attractive.

Each time you both indulged in the pleasures of this forbidden fruit, you found yourself utterly lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by the depth of his passion and being filled by his thick fluids.The idea of leaving his embrace, even for something as simple as cleaning yourself, seemed almost impossible - Leona was determined to keep you close until his nap was finished. But that was fine… after all, you had a place to call home, three nourishing meals each day and a man who cherished you deeply, eager to spoil you in every way. However, don’t expect him to utter clichéd declarations of love; his devotion was shown through actions, not words.

One of the most certain ways to ascertain the presence of poison was undeniably through taste. When one dared to take a bite of a tempered food, an unsettling sensation would immediately arise - perhaps the sweetness of a meat that should have been savory or a plate of vegetables with a flavor simply unnatural. Yet, at times, the mere scent could alert someone of the danger. Your gravest error was daring to attempt to take the life of the eldest heir of the AlAsim family with cyanide. The moment the unmistakable aroma of bitter almonds reached his nostrils, he knew, without a doubt, that someone wanted him dead.

The sentence would be far from merciful - it would be a death penalty. Why had you done it? Was it truly worth sacrificing everything for nothing more than a handful of golden coins? It wasn’t like you had a genuine choice - surviving without money for even the most basic needs was an impossible feat. As you sat in your cell, lost in your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. You didn't dare to look up. "Master Kalim wishes to see you." the voice echoed, as Jamil Viper unlocked your cell. You knew little of the figure who awaited you, but one thing was certain: running was futile. Silently, you rose to your feet, your hands shackled together by cold chains.

A path bathed in a deafening silence stretched before you… It felt almost too strange, walking through the grand palace alongside a figure you knew held unwavering loyalty to the heir - well, at least, in your own perception. The tension hung thick in the air. You both paused before the victim's chambers - or what you presumed was his room when you saw the door, embellished with gold and precious stones. One single gem alone could likely cover your rent for the rest of your life. As you entered alone, the man you had sought to kill awaited you. Despite the near-fatal attempt on his life, there was no trace of anger in his eyes, only a look of quiet curiosity, perhaps even admiration as he laid there, on that huge bed which seemed a crime to only hug one single person by night. By now, you were no stranger to this reaction: Who would expect such a delicate, petite woman to be a poisonous flower, ready to strike if commanded?

“You’re… so pretty,” Kalim said, his voice light and warm as you bowed to him. Despite the certainty that you wouldn’t leave the palace alive, showing a bit of respect felt like the right thing to do, didn’t it? As he gestured for you to come closer, you obeyed… but what you didn’t expect was for him to stand up and gently steal a kiss from your lips. Surprise swept across your face, and for a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming - could this really be happening? But no, it was all too real. “and your lips are… so soft.” he continued with a bright, almost childlike smile. “I like you... Would you consider becoming my concubine?” His tone was sweet, as if he genuinely meant it, as if he were offering you the sun itself.

You were understandably taken aback - was he mocking your situation, making some cruel joke? You raised an eyebrow, clearly doubting the sincerity of his words. When he noticed your hesitation, the tanned man simply smiled, his expression warm and genuine. "You're my type… It would be a shame if you were executed." Your beauty has saved you many times before, but never in such an unexpected way. The question now was: what was more important? Your life or your dignity? As much as it stung, your life, of course, came first. Despite the humiliation of the situation, you knew you wouldn’t become some mere prostitute - this wasn’t about that. And with the wealth and influence of your target’s family, you knew hunger would no longer be a concern. In truth, it felt like a strange kind of blessing. All that was left to do was play your part.

You reluctantly accepted the role, knowing that with this agreement, at least your life would be spared and you could keep your pretty head in place. The days that followed were, to say the least, strange - everyone knew what you had done, yet you moved through the palace halls without bearing the full weight of your actions. Some even envied your position. Despite the duties you were expected to fulfill in Kalim’s chambers, the power that came with it was undeniable. But you didn’t truly care for any of that. As long as you had decent clothes and were well-fed, that was enough for you. The rest - titles, power, envy - didn’t matter. 

The nocturnal encounters with Kalim were filled with an unrestrained passion, his treatment towards you so sweet that you never felt like a simple plaything for him. The woman who had once sought to kill him now held a profound influence over the prince - your captivating presence was capable of extracting whatever you desired with nothing more than a piercing glance. For him, the most exhilarating moments were the ones you draped over him, hips undulating as you rode his dick and tried to muffle the desperate moans that threatened to escape from your lips.The fear of sharing such vulnerability only served to heighten his arousal, his member swelling even larger whenever he heard the sweet melody you tried to so desperately deprive him with.

Kalim found enchantment in every aspect of your being, yet, the tantalizing sight of your exposed breasts, inviting and needy, proved too irresistible. He delighted in cupping those two, teasing your nipples with his fingers or warm mouth, drinking with pleasure the breathtaking reactions as your body arched in desperate pursuit of more. The mere spectacle of your pleasure could push him to the climax, but he never neglected your satisfaction. Even as his consort, your enjoyment remained his concern, ensuring that each night ended with your own wishes fulfilled. Afterward, a devoted servant would attend to your needs while Kalim cherished the precious moments after the intimacy. His only request is that you linger briefly in his arms, savoring the warmth and adoration he has to offer you.

In ancient myths, it is said that cold iron is the most potent weapon when it comes to slaying a fairy. The mere brush of its edge against their skin is enough to destroy them beyond recognition. There are even whispers of a king who, long ago, used an iron chain to steal a fay's wings.Trusting such legends, you forged a blade - one sharp enough to fulfill your deadly purpose. However, what you failed to anticipate was how, despite possessing this weapon, the task would prove far more harder than you ever imagined. Before you knew it, the sword you had hoped would serve you lay abandoned upon the ground while your body was ensnared by thorns. You were naive to believe you could end Malleus Draconia, one of the most formidable mages in all of Twisted Wonderland.

As the cruel thorns pierced your tender flesh, you bit back a cry, determined not to reveal the agony to the dragon - and your attempts did not go unnoticed by Malleus. Impressed by your fortitude, he released you unceremoniously, watching as you crumpled to the ground. From his stoic expression, it was impossible to discern whether he found you amusing, infuriating, or worthy of simple mockery. Uncertain of his intentions, you gazed up at him, chin lifted by his bony fingers. Despite the pain, a flicker of defiance remained in your gaze - something strangely beautiful. Then, with an air of detached curiosity, Malleus spoke, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. “You're a pretty face, child of men.” he remarked, his voice lacking any emotion. "It's truly a pity that your destiny is death.”

You didn’t want to show it, but terror built up at your insides. Still, you maintained the façade of strength and confidence, taking full responsibility for the choices that had led you to this moment. The seriousness of your expression was a stark contrast to the delicate features that adorned your face, a paradox of beauty and evil. With great effort, you struggled to rise, feeling the warm trickle of blood staining your clothes.Though your legs shaked beneath you, threatening to give way, you refused to crumble, unwilling to let yourself fall pathetically at Draconia’s feet. "Glad my appearance is eye candy for you," you retorted, your voice steady, though your body screamed in pain. "I’d be even more pleased if I were the last thing you saw before you die." Malleus chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and something darker, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed impressed by your defiance. It was rare, after all, for someone to dare challenge him. Perhaps it was your audacity that intrigued him. And then, in one fluid motion, he swept you off your feet - gently, almost as if he couldn’t bear to let you suffer any longer. The world around you spun, and before the pain could fully overtake you, the darkness claimed you, pulling you into unconsciousness.

To your surprise, you awoke not in a grim cell, surrounded by countless souls awaiting their fate, but in a bedroom. The mattress beneath you was soft, the blankets enveloping you with a warmth that felt like a tender mother’s kiss. Confusion washed over your face as your gaze scanned the room, only to be met by a piercing pair of emerald eyes fixed on you. A scream died on your lips, though the reluctance you felt was unmistakable. Here you were, face-to-face with the man you had just tried to kill, now helpless and unarmed, scared especially after witnessing the raw power he possessed. Yet, he showed no aggression. Instead, he approached your trembling form and gently inquired, "Have we met before? Perhaps, in some kind of dream?"

Malleus reached you, and instinctively, you recoiled. But before you could move far, his fingers gently caressed your face, brushing aside the messy strands of hair that obscured your eyes. "...A beauty..." he murmured, his voice soft, as he gazed at you with quiet admiration. It was rare for him to feel such attraction toward a human, especially considering the history of his people and their past dealings with humanity. Yet here he was, captivated by you as though you were a princess. To your astonishment, he leaned forward and kissed you - though it wasn’t a kiss driven by lust. It felt almost... innocent, as though there were an undeniable connection between you, as if you had known each other in another time, another life. It was like devine salvation coming from a demon looking soul.

You became the subject of whispers among others - some even dared to call you Malleus’ favored plaything. But in the eyes of the fae prince, you were much more than that; you were his beloved. The reasons behind his fascination with you remained a mystery. Perhaps you resembled a human from his past, someone with whom he had an unspoken connection. You couldn't say for sure, but it hardly mattered - after all, the heir to the throne spared no effort in ensuring your comfort within the Valley of Thorns. You were lavished with exquisite clothing, treated to meals you had once thought impossible to taste and enveloped in a devotion that was unlike any you had known. In return, all he asked of you was the simplest of things: to visit him in the chambers during night.

The size of the member he kept hidden between his legs was monstrous, but his sweet touches were undeniable kind. Gentle caresses and passionate kisses were left, and mark of his love of your person - and Malleus always took a special care to be able to linger the embrace of your lips. As he moved within you, soft whispers were delivered in your ear, however, you were never sure if they were truly meant to you. Under his touch, you found yourself surrendering to ecstasy at every turn, the distinction between concubine and beloved becoming increasingly irrelevant. Even your role being the one of a maiden meant to deliver pleasure… you felt so loved. Draconia was a truly romantic soul.

He would frequently deposit his essence within you, driven by both the intense pleasure this act afforded him and a deeper objective - the hope that one day, you might bear his offspring. His fascination with you remained an enigma, yet, the sensation of his heat enveloping your being proved undeniably gratifying. Following these encounters, you would often find yourself exhausted - it was quite hard to match his stamina. But don’t worry, Malleus will for sure cradle you tenderly, ensuring your well-being as you recover from such a night. Name whatever you want to eat, he’ll be sure you’ll have whatever you want. You’re his beloved pet, after all.

[himasgod]

hihi!! i just thought of this like an hour ago but heres the idea!

Since Yuu doesnt speak alot in the game, Reader(yuu) also doesnt speak much!! so when they do (aka the dialogue options, or maybe reader just doesnt speak alot lol) it kinda like spooks people sometimes heh

so i was thinking a Selective mute reader(??) x Kalim and one other character of ur choice (id like this request to be like a mini oneshot so just kalim and the other character or kalim by himself, thats what i had in mind!! :3 )

thanks for the posts!! ☀️

KALIM X READER

Where you have selective mutism

It’s not that you can’t speak.

You just usually don’t.

There’s too much noise in the world already, and too many people who talk only to fill space. So you save your words. You let your eyes, your expressions, your actions speak instead.

For some, that makes you unreadable. For others, unnerving.

But not for Kalim.

From the moment he met you, his reaction wasn’t confusion or pity, it was curiosity.

“Wow! You don’t talk much, huh?” he’d beamed on day one, hands on his hips. “That’s totally fine! I talk enough for both of us!”

And heh, he wasn’t lying.

Kalim filled the space around you with chatter, energy, and most of all, patience. He never prodded or pushed. Never asked why you didn’t talk much. Just treated your silences like natural pauses in the song of life.

You liked that. You liked him.

You loved him.

“Hey! Wanna come to the Scarabia after class?” Kalim asks you now, spinning around to face you mid-step, walking backward with zero self-preservation instincts. “I was thinking—hummus night! We’ll cook together, yeah?”

You nod, giving him a small thumbs-up. He beams, clearly thrilled.

“Great! I already got Jamil to prep the ingredients—uh, well, he did that on his own. I think he just didn’t want me to mess up the kitchen again—HEY, don’t laugh!”

You stifle a chuckle. Your shoulders shake with it, and Kalim lights up as though you’d handed him a gift.

You don’t laugh out loud often. You don’t speak often. But he never seems to take it personally. He just treasures the moments you do.

Scarabia is lively as always. Music plays in the background, Kalim’s weirdly catchy pop playlist. He’s tossing pita bread onto a warm plate when he calls over his shoulder:

“Yuu! Taste test this! I tried adding cinnamon to the chickpeas!”

You tilt your head at him, skeptical, but grab a spoonful anyway. You chew, blink, and give him a slow double thumbs-up.

“YES!” Kalim fist-pumps like he just won a duel. “I knew it! Cinnamon makes everything better!”

You give him a look.

“Okay, almost everything,” he amends, giggling.

It’s easy like this. He talks. You listen. You reply in nods, gestures, and, on rare occasions, soft spoken words that make his eyes widen like he’s seeing fireworks.

He never pressures you to speak.

But sometimes… you want to.

Later, you’re sprawled on the lounge cushions, your plate empty and your stomach full.

Kalim’s lying upside down beside you, his legs propped over the armrest, arms flopped over his stomach like a sun-drunk lizard.

“I love hanging out with you, you know?”

You glance at him. He’s looking at the ceiling, like he’s talking to the stars.

“You never make me feel weird or annoying. You just let me be me. And I wanna do the same for you. Even if you don’t talk much!”

You look down at your hands, fidgeting a little with your sleeve.

Your chest tightens—but in a soft, good way. You’ve always appreciated him. But sometimes… sometimes appreciation isn’t enough.

You breathe in.

You speak.

“Kalim.”

Just one word. Just his name.

But he bolts upright like he’s been shocked.

“Wha—! You—” He stares at you, eyes huge, grin half-formed like he’s not sure if he’s dreaming. “You said my name.”

You nod. Slowly. His mouth opens and closes.

“I—I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but… that’s the first time you’ve ever called me that!” He laughs, as if the joy’s too big to fit in his lungs. “Do you… talk more when you’re comfortable?”

You nod again.

“Then I’m glad you’re comfortable with me. Even if you never say another word, I’d still be glad. But that—” he touches his chest lightly, over his heart “—that meant a lot.”

You’re quiet again. But not because you’re afraid. Not because you’re shutting down. Just because you don’t need to say anything else.

Kalim shifts a little closer. “Can I hug you?”

You nod.

He throws his arms around you. Not tigth, he’s gentle, softer than you thought he could be.b

You speak again, voice no louder than a whisper.

“Thank you… for listening even when I don’t speak.”

Kalim doesn’t cry, but his voice does crack a little.

“Always,” he murmurs.

“Always, Yuu.”

Jamil almost drops his ladle when Kalim rushes into the kitchen at breakfast the following day.

“Jamil! Yuu said my name yesterday!”

“…So?”

“Said it out loud! With their voice, so so soft! Like, ‘Kalim’—just like that! It was amazing!”

Jamil raises an eyebrow. “Okay. And?”

Kalim beams. “I didn’t die or explode or anything! But I could have! From joy!”

“…That’s not how selective mutism works, Kalim.”

“I know,” Kalim says brightly, “but it feels like magic anyway.”

Jamil sighs with a little smile. He’ll never understand how someone so loud can still make people feel heard.

But then again… that’s Kalim <3

[sparklystarrrr]

how you're having a nice day! (ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡. Crack fic idea but Twst x gn!reader who uses gen alpha brainrot slang (like sigma, mewing, looksmaxxing, rizz and gigachad). This can be with any characters you want. Please feel free to ignore this if you don't feel comfort with writing this

Anon I would be DELIGHTED to write this

What The Sigma?

Synopsis: Using brainrot from your world in front of the Housewardens!

Contains: Housewardens x Gn! Reader, absolute crack, platonic/romantic, italian brainrot…, I have no idea what I’m saying please bear with me, lot of cursing, Idia and his gamer talk needs a warning

Riddle Rosehearts ~

The boy has had more than enough of you then accidentally says your brainrot in a sentence and actually dies. He hears enough of his world’s brainrot from Cater and Adeuce, even Trey when he feels cheeky. NOW YOU TOO??? It’s even worse that he has no power to make it stop. His unique power only works on people with magic and you obviously don’t have any.

“Riddle you’re such an alpha! But no cap the way you order around your dorm mates is NOT sigma behavior-“ “SHUT YOUR MOUTH THIS INSTANT!”

Poor guy can’t look at you now because he feels, in your words, like he lost major aura points for now accidentally using it in his daily life.

“Ace… This is the last time I will allow your rowdiness today. It is not sigma of y-…” He physically grabs his chest in shock and horror while spacing out. Can’t even finish his sentence. Ace is concerned and thinks Rids got a heart attack mid lecture from the way he looks like he got the wind knocked right from his lungs and clutched his uniform right above his heart. “U-uh hey man, you good?”

“I am ashamed of what I’ve become.”

“Uh okay… I’m gonna get (y/n)…”

”DON’T YOU DARE-“

As you can see, he’s crashing out. It's not like he can live it down either because Sevens knows Ace told all of his besties about his prim and proper Housewarden saying "sigma". Now everyone's saying it around him. He's furious but can't do anything about it because there's no rule forbidding the use of "sigma" in the Queen's rule book.

Leona Kingscholar ~

He’s about to strangle you. He can’t spend another day listening to your random words and the shit that comes out of your mouth. He gets woken from his naps with ,”Time to wake up alpha!” and the curtains in front of his window rudely opened.

This is worse than babysitting Cheka, worse than dealing with the rowdy students in his dorm. Literally nothing can top your brainrot and how much it pisses him off. Hates it even more that it's rubbed off on him and the other Savanaclaw students. Because now he 's wondering why everyone's calling him "alpha" and "pro looksmaxxer".

He once walked out of his dorm room thinking today he would finally get a break when suddenly, you appeared. "Rise and grind!" He promptly turned on his heel and ran for his bed. This shit HAD to be a fever dream. To add salt to the wound, his brother called him to bring Cheka over for babysitting.

It was a nightmare.

He left Cheka with you because no way in hell was he spending his day with a little child. Tell him why Cheka comes back talking about some “rizz”… and you’re grinning with delight while trying to hold back cackles.

“Unca Leona had rizz!!” “Yup, that’s right Cheka!”

What. The. Fuck.

“The hell is going on here Herbivore…” Leona asks, nearly growling. “Uh… nothing…”

He sent Cheka back and threatened him to not tell his dad. Obviously little Cheka didn’t listen. His brother called.

“Leona, why is Cheka saying you have rizz?? What does that even mean?” Farena giggled. Leona on the other hand was about to die of embarrassment.”Nothing Farena… just some stupid word. I don’t even know what it means.”

After hanging up the call he was so close to storming right up to your dorm and giving you a piece of his mind, but taking his mid day nap sounded much better.

Azul Ashengrotto ~

He’s about to make a contract with you to shut up Ursula style.

“Azul, will you be the Ballerina Cappuccina to my Tung tung tung tung Sahur?” You wink. He’s sitting there like he’s going through a midlife crisis at the fresh age of 17 years old. “W-… What does that even MEANNNNNN-“

He’s actually about to drown you in the Mostro Lounge’s fish tanks. Even considering sending you to the Tweels to make your jokes elsewhere. He just needs you anywhere else than near him so he doesn’t have to be tortured by Italian brainrot.

When he sends you to the Tweels in hopes of shutting you up his plan obviously backfires. Why you ask? Well now the Tweels are saying it.

“Yo Azul, you’re Tung tung sumthin’ Sahur? Shrimpy said that ya were, ain’t it funny!” Floyd cackles.

He puts his head in his hands and sighs. “Wow Azul, are you perhaps crashing out?” Jade snickers.

He’s close to tears. Poor guy is DONE with everyone. He won’t even respond to brainrot anymore, or he’ll run and hide in his octopot for comfort…

Let my man have some peace in his life for once 😭😭💔

Kalim Al-Asim ~

He’s just as enthusiastic as ever, yet has no idea what you’re saying.

“Kalim, that party last night was so skibidi! Invite me to the next one!” You say excitedly. “Wha… y..YEAH it really was awesome! I’ll have another one tonight (y/n) you better be there!” He says while hopping off to Jamil and informing him of the new plan.

He’s not even questioning it. He actually goes along with it too. “KALIM THIS PARTY IS SO SIGMA” “HECK YEAH IT’S SIGMA!!!” you two scream over the heart pounding music of the 12th party he’s had this month.

He definitely asks Jamil about it though…”Do you know what sigma means? I remember (y/n) said it last night but I never got to ask them about what it meant. Do you think it has a meaning?” And Jamil is wracking his brain trying to think of literally anything but he’s equally as confused if not more. “Uh I couldn’t tell you. I’ve got no idea what that means either.”

Obviously, as he’s so curious, Kalim bounces up to you with a billion questions.”(y/n)! (y/n)!! I got a question! What do those sigma and skibidi words mean?”

The fact is, you really didn’t know what they mean. They’re just funny sayings…”Well y’know like… This party’s so skibidi is like uhhh it’s really good and like… sigmas the same. I think.” Clearly you didn’t know what you were talking about. Yet he was nodding his head and taking note of it,”Ohhh…. I seee… Hah! You’re such a skibidi sigma friend (y/n)!” “You’re a skibidi sigma friend too Kalim!!” He proceeds to knock you over in a hug in the middle of the NRC hallways.

Vil Schoenheit ~

He’s one more heavy sigh from digging your grave in a not so attractive way.

“Hey Vil, is mewing part of your beauty routine? ‘Cus let me tell ya, Gigachad is jealous of that jawline. I swear your face card is LETHAL.”

His brows are furrowed so hard in confusion while he's doing his mascara that he’s gonna need to put on more wrinkle cream before bed. “I don't understand what you're saying potato and I find myself not caring to know. Now if you could allow me to concentrate while doing my lashes that would be greatly appreciated." He gives you a dirty side eye through his mirror, "Your foolish words are distracting me."

He brushes off whatever you say with such elegance you get whiplash. At the same time though, you're getting put into one of Vil's special lessons with Epel on how to behave better.

Epel is about to explode with giggles whenever you give a smart or silly response to Vil when he's trying to make you talk "normally". Vil is grumbling about how unruly you two are together and you two are cackling about things he can't even wrap his head around understanding.

"So then- Oh ma gawd- HAH- That guy in ma hometown said "Ya ain't all that alpha buddy" and then- SHUT UP- His buddy said "On skibidi?" LIKE WHAT THE FUC-" "BAHAHAHA-" You and Epel are making a vein bulge out of his forehead. The vulgarity, the tone, the way you two are slapping each other while cackling, EVERYTHING... This may just be the first time Vil has had to deal with a lost cause because NOTHING is changing you two.

Idia Shroud ~

Dude knows EXACTLY what you’re saying and it’s a very bonding moment. He’ll use the twisted wonderland’s brainrot and you use yours. All of a sudden he’s an extrovert.

You two are usually gaming when the brainrot comes out. If there’s a Twisted Wonderland version of Fortnite, y’all are DIRTY in that game. For once in his gaming life, he’s suddenly losing… “BRO SAVEMESAVEME FUCK!!!” “I’M COMING ALPHA STAY NONCHALANT-”

“(Y/N) I’M GONNA FUCKING CRASH OUT GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE-“ He’s on dangerously low HP and theres no chug jugs or healers around. You’re his only hope cus everyone else in the game hates you two and how much you guys cheat your way to the top. He’s literally about to throw his controller at the wall before you swoop in to heal him. “Thanks bro that was so sigma of you… You’re getting backshots for this, Omega.”

“Oiled up?”

“Is that even a question?”

“‘Kay Diddy…”

“Who?”

“HELP ME I’M GETTING ATTACKED-“

“I’M COMING!”

And then you two just keep crashing out over the game like that didn’t just come out of your mouths. He is DANGEROUSLY comfortable with you now and is no longer in control of what comes out of those blue ahh lips.

Malleus Draconia ~

He’s curious and wants you to teach him every single brainrot term created. You could literally be saying “Woah Hornton, you’re an alpha looksmaxxer, I could goon to your face daily…” and he’d be like ”Interesting terminology Child Of Man. I am thoroughly intrigued by your words. Is there a translation for this? Are there any other words from your world’s joyful language? Do tell.” With a jolly smile on his face.

He never understands what you’re saying yet tries to use it in his sentences because they’re so absurd it sounds like a different language to him. “We have many skibidi classmates in this school…” Malleus will happily say to a fellow housewarden who’s also been attacked by your brainrot. He’s confused on why the housewarden is groaning like he’s on his deathbed.

Even worse, when it’s around Lilia…

Lilia was trying to cook one scary evening. Everyone and their grandmother knew he was a terrible cook. Dinner was already running on nightmare fuel. As the plates were happily set in front of Sebek, Malleus and Silver, they nervously took a bite.

It was all quiet in the dinning room of Daisomnia apart from the occasional choking sound of Sebek trying to honorably force it down and the sound of Silver literally fainting and slamming his head down onto the counter from disgust. Malleus spoke in horror, “This is…. unsigma.” while staring at the bowl of doom and despair soup.

Lilia is crouched over the floor cackling and Sebek is now fainted too. Daisomnia is NOT ready for this dragon and his brainroted bestie!🫶

Leona and Kalim were so hard to write for this but I pulled through‼️

[iwillpsychicallyfightyou]

amazon 😁

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire || Kalim Al-Asim

You lose everything you've worked after getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager after a freak accident. As the villainess.

It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.

This one isn't as silly as the rest, I hope y'all still like it

Series Masterlist

The bar was bustling with the lively sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and music. It was the kind of place that invited camaraderie, a perfect spot for celebrating the latest success your team had pulled off. You were surrounded by your colleagues, all in high spirits. The project you had all worked tirelessly on had finally paid off, and the sense of accomplishment was almost palpable.

Someone had insisted on buying another round, and before you knew it, shots were being passed around. You weren't normally one to indulge too much, but tonight was an exception. After all the stress and sleepless nights, you deserved to relax a little.

“Cheers to us!” someone shouted, and everyone raised their glasses, laughter rippling through the group.

You smiled, genuinely feeling the warmth of the moment. There was something about the shared joy of victory that made the exhaustion worthwhile. You took a sip of your drink, eyes drifting across the room to see your colleagues—people who had become something like a second family over the months of grueling work.

But then you noticed one of your colleagues.

He looked like someone who’d already had a bit too much, was stumbling his way towards the exit, mumbling something about needing fresh air. His unsteady gait set off alarm bells in your mind, and without a second thought, you set your drink down and quickly followed after him.

“Hey!” you called out, catching up to him just as he pushed open the heavy door to the outside. The cool night air hit your face, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bar. “You okay, man? Maybe you should sit down for a bit.”

He waved you off, a lopsided grin on his face. “Nah, I’m fine! Just need… air,” he slurred, his steps veering towards the curb.

You frowned, reaching out to grab his arm gently. “Come on, let’s get you back inside. It’s not safe—”

Suddenly, he pulled away, stumbling further into the road. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The flash of headlights, the blaring horn, his eyes widening in confusion as the truck bore down on him.

Your body moved on instinct. Without thinking, you lunged forward, shoving your colleague out of the way. The last thing you heard was the deafening screech of tires, the rush of adrenaline flooding your veins as the realization hit.

There was no time to move.

The impact came with a force that stole your breath, pain radiating through your body before everything went dark.

The world faded away, the laughter and warmth of the bar replaced by an all-encompassing silence.

You woke up slowly, the world around you blurred and unfamiliar. There was an ache in your body, a heavy sort of weariness that made every small movement a struggle. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, your head pounding as if it was caught between a vice.

The first thing you noticed was the ceiling. It was wooden, beams running across it, the kind of architecture that seemed straight out of a period drama. You frowned, your eyes narrowing in confusion.

Where were you? This wasn’t the hospital—there were no sterile white walls, no beeping monitors. And the bed… It was hard, almost uncomfortably so, and you could feel the scratchy fabric of the sheets beneath you.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up, the unfamiliar weight of the clothes you were wearing making you pause. They were heavy, the fabric rough against your skin. You looked down, taking in the sight of the dress you were wearing—long, old-fashioned, and visibly worn. The sleeves were frayed, and the fabric itself looked like it had seen better days, like something out of a historical novel.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. The room around you was small, cramped, the furniture sparse and outdated. It was then that you noticed the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. You stood, your legs shaky beneath you, and made your way towards it.

The face staring back at you wasn’t your own.

You swallowed, your heart thudding painfully in your chest as you took in the unfamiliar features—the pale skin, the hollow eyes, the face that looked almost gaunt. The realization settled in slowly, the pieces falling into place with a horrible sort of clarity. You knew this face. You knew these clothes, this room, the aching feeling that lingered in your chest.

It was the face of a character from a novel you had read as a teenager. A tragic, doomed villainess—one whose story had always stayed with you, not because of her actions but because of the injustice of it all. She was a character meant to suffer, her only role to push the heroine into her journey. She was used, discarded, her death nothing more than a footnote in the protagonist's story. The villainess with a cruel fate, a pawn in the hands of those more powerful, destined to be cast aside the moment her usefulness ran out.

You felt a chill settle in your bones, your body sinking back onto the edge of the bed as the weight of your new reality hit you. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t some fleeting nightmare you could wake up from. You were here—stuck in the body of a character whose life was nothing but misery.

Everything you had worked for—your career, your friendships, the life you had painstakingly built for yourself—was gone. All the late nights, the hard-earned successes, the laughter with friends over drinks—all of it was gone in an instant, replaced by a fate you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

The hopelessness of it all settled in, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. There was no future for this character, no way out. She was meant to suffer, to be used and discarded, and no matter how much you wanted to fight it, to believe that you could change it, a part of you knew the truth.

You were powerless here.

You buried your face in your hands, a shuddering breath escaping your lips. You wanted to cry, to scream, to demand answers. But there was no one here to answer you, no one who would care even if they could. You were alone, in a story that had already decided your fate.

The tragic villainess—the role you were now forced to play.

And you couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of despair.

After coming to terms with your new reality, you made a decision. You couldn’t afford to be a passive character in this story, waiting for the inevitable to crush you. If you were going to live in this world, then you would fight for it, rewrite the narrative, and carve out a future for yourself—even if that meant playing a role that no one expected of you.

The first challenge came at home. The character you possessed had a father—a lazy, indifferent man who spent his days drinking, oblivious to the decay of his household. The family was in debt, the estate falling apart, and the few servants left were more interested in lining their pockets than doing their jobs. You took a deep breath, refusing to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task. One step at a time.

You started with the estate. You reviewed the books, fired the corrupt staff who had been bleeding your family dry, and brought in trustworthy people to take their place. It wasn’t easy—there were threats, and more than a few people tried to intimidate you into silence. But you had faced challenges before in your old life, and even in this new one, you weren’t about to be cowed.

Slowly, things began to change. The estate began to recover, the debts lessened, and the people who worked for you started to believe in you. You gained a reputation—first as a shrewd manager, then as someone who could be relied on to get things done. You built relationships, carefully navigating the intricacies of this world’s social dynamics. It wasn’t long before the local nobles started to take notice.

Your father, indifferent and content with his habits, became less of an obstacle as you quietly took over the responsibilities of your household. You made connections, attended social events, and gradually climbed the ranks. It was exhausting, demanding work, but every success fueled your determination.

Then came the opportunity that changed everything. A crisis in the kingdom required volunteers, and you stepped forward—a move that shocked those around you. A woman, much less a former disgraced noble, didn’t typically take on such a role. But you had no intention of following the rules laid out for you. You worked hard, proving your capability on the battlefield, earning respect not only for your strategic mind but also for your courage.

Eventually, you were knighted—a Dame of the kingdom, an honor that would have seemed impossible not long ago. It was followed by an offer to serve as a general. You accepted, knowing that with power came the opportunity to change your fate and secure a future free from the shackles of the tragic story you had once read.

The war that came next was brutal. You spent months on the frontlines, leading your soldiers through grueling battles. The weight of command was heavy; lives depended on you, and the decisions you made could mean the difference between victory and death. But you faced it all with a determination forged from your past life, a refusal to be anything less than victorious. You strategized, fought alongside your troops, and inspired them to fight harder.

In the end, you won. The kingdom's enemies were driven back, and you returned home not as the villainess destined for tragedy but as a war hero. The people cheered as you passed through the streets, and for the first time since you arrived in this world, you felt something other than fear and despair. You had fought, you had survived, and you had won.

The nobles who had once looked down on you were forced to recognize your accomplishments, and the people who once whispered about your family’s disgrace now spoke of your triumphs. You had rewritten the story, taken a character destined for misery and given her a new path—one forged by your own hands.

But even in victory, you knew the dangers of complacency. The story was far from over, and though you had managed to change your fate thus far, there were still challenges ahead. The heroine of the original story had yet to make her appearance, and the narrative that had once doomed you was still a threat.

But for now, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe, to take in the sight of the city you had fought to protect. You had climbed higher than anyone had expected, and you were determined not to fall. You had built something new—something that was yours. And you would fight to keep it, no matter what came next.

But along the way, you’d lost something essential. The joy, the ambition, the passion that had once driven you was gone. You’d become cold, hardened by the betrayals you’d faced. Even the people closest to you turned out to be disloyal.

The most painful betrayal was from a soldier you had trusted with your life—someone you had fought beside in war. He had been leaking information to the enemy, and you were forced to execute him with your own hand. His treachery cut deeper than any wound you had suffered in battle.

Your butler, a kind old man who had become something of a father figure to you, noticed the change. He often tried to cheer you up, suggesting suitors and hosting lavish events, but none of it worked. The eligible bachelors and bachelorettes who came your way were only interested in your title and wealth, not you. You became cynical, distrustful, and your butler could only watch in sadness as the vibrant person you once were faded away.

It didn’t help that you had made powerful enemies. The first prince, who you had fought beside during the war, had proposed to you.

The grand hall of the imperial palace was buzzing with the energy of the noble elite, all gathered to witness the unprecedented moment. You stood at the forefront of the room, the golden imperial crest behind you shimmering in the light of hundreds of candles.

The emperor himself had just awarded you the title of Grand Duchess, a feat no woman had ever achieved before. The applause was thunderous, the murmurs of awe and envy swirling through the crowd like a current.

You stood tall, your posture regal, even though the weight of the moment pressed down on you like a heavy crown. You’d worked for years to get here, fighting both on the battlefield and in the political arena, your every victory hard-earned.

It should’ve been a moment of triumph. And yet, the expression on the emperor’s face, tight and thin-lipped, warned you that this celebration wasn’t going to end on a pleasant note.

Sure enough, the moment the formalities ended, the first prince took a step forward. His crimson military uniform was pristine, medals gleaming on his chest, but the shine didn’t reach his eyes. You’d fought beside him during the war, seen his cowardice firsthand, and his presence already had your stomach turning.

He cleared his throat, and the hall fell into silence. The crowd’s attention shifted to him, eyes wide with anticipation. A royal prince proposing to the empire’s new Grand Duchess? It was the kind of spectacle they lived for.

“Grand Duchess,” he began, his voice booming with the kind of arrogance that only a man born into power could possess, “your bravery and accomplishments have brought great honor to this empire. You have achieved more than any woman before you, and it would be my honor to have you by my side.”

You felt your blood run cold. Oh, you knew this was coming. It had been whispered through the halls of the palace since the day you returned from the front lines—the cowardly prince, had been seeking to marry you and elevate his own standing. You’d avoided it until now, but it seemed the time for subtlety was over. He had chosen this moment, in front of the entire nobility, to make his move.

The prince knelt before you, reaching into his pocket to produce a ring—a garish thing, oversized and glittering with a ridiculous number of diamonds. The kind of ring that screamed, look at me, I’m important, but utterly lacked any true beauty. He held it up to you, the crowd around you gasping in unison.

“I ask for your hand in marriage, Grand Duchess,” he declared, his voice filled with artificial charm. “Together, we will rule this empire as the most powerful couple in history.”

You stared down at him, your jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder you didn’t break a tooth. Your mind raced as you felt the weight of every eye in the room on you. They were waiting for you to swoon, to accept, to submit to the prince’s advances like some simpering debutante.

But you? You were no ordinary noblewoman, no pawn in the empire’s political games. You had fought for this title, bled for it, earned it in ways he could never understand. And there was no way in hell you were going to let yourself be reduced to a mere accessory to this man’s weak, cowardly ambition.

Taking a deep breath, you looked down at the prince—this spoiled, useless man who thought his status alone could make up for his lack of character—and something inside you snapped.

“Marry you?” you repeated, your voice clear and cold, echoing through the hall. The prince’s smile wavered, and murmurs began to ripple through the audience.

You stepped forward, your voice rising with a sharp edge. “You think I would ever marry someone like you? A man who cowered behind his soldiers in battle, who fled at the first sign of danger? A man who abandoned his comrades, left them to die while he ran to save his own skin?”

The crowd gasped, the sound a collective intake of shock. his face flushed with embarrassment, but you weren’t done.

“I would rather marry a toad,” you continued, your voice dripping with scorn, “than be tied to a man as spineless and pathetic as you.”

The hall fell into a stunned silence. the prince's face went from red to ashen, his hand still frozen in place, holding that absurd ring. He opened his mouth, sputtering, but no words came out. He hadn’t expected this—no one had.

You could feel the weight of the empire’s gaze on you, but it didn’t matter. You were no longer just the Grand Duchess. You were something far more dangerous: a woman who had the power to defy the expectations of an entire empire.

“You would do well,” you said, your voice dropping to a deadly calm, “to remember that I earned this title. Not by birthright. Not by marriage. But by merit. And I’ll be damned if I ever let someone like you take that from me.”

With that, you turned your back on him, the prince still kneeling, humiliated in front of the empire’s most powerful. The nobles around you stood in stunned silence, some daring to whisper amongst themselves, while others watched in awe, as if witnessing a force of nature in human form.

As you walked away from the proposal, your eyes met the emperor’s. His face was unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment that you had just done something no one else would have dared. You had broken the rules of this world, and the repercussions would be felt for years to come.

But you didn’t care. You were done playing their games.

Let them try and tame you. You had made it this far on your own, and you weren’t about to let anyone—least of all a toad in princely clothing—stand in your way.

The day had started like any other—a grey, somber morning draped in the quiet monotony you had come to know. The Grand Duchess’s estate was immaculate, polished to perfection, reflecting the cold and unyielding nature of its owner.

You moved through the day with the same precision as ever, going through endless meetings, signing off on reports, handling political maneuvers with the finesse of a seasoned war general. Yet, beneath it all, the hollowness remained.

Until that afternoon.

A delegation from the Scalding Sands had arrived, their colorful caravans contrasting sharply with the muted grandeur of your estate. You had heard they were coming—a diplomatic mission of sorts—and while you didn’t expect much from it, the formalities had to be observed. It was part of your role now, after all.

You stood at the grand entrance, waiting as the doors swung open to reveal the visiting party. A small group of advisors and servants stepped in first, but then your eyes fell on the young man leading them.

Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the most prominent merchant family in the Scalding Sands.

Dressed in vibrant silks, Kalim practically radiated joy. His bright eyes shone with unfiltered excitement, and his smile was wide, carefree, as if he was about to greet an old friend instead of a war-hardened Duchess. His enthusiasm was…disarming, to say the least.

“Grand Duchess!” Kalim called out the moment he spotted you, practically bouncing as he approached. “It’s an honor to finally meet you! Your reputation precedes you—everyone’s been talking about how amazing you are!”

You blinked, taken aback by his unabashed warmth. No one had spoken to you like that in years—so casual, so genuine. Most nobles approached you with caution, fear even, carefully curating their words to avoid upsetting the ice-cold facade you’d been forced to build. But Kalim? He had no such hesitations.

You inclined your head, keeping your tone measured. “Lord Al-Asim, welcome to my estate. I trust your journey was smooth?”

“Oh, it was fantastic! The weather was perfect, and we got to see so many beautiful sights on the way here! Your countryside is amazing—so green! Nothing like back home.” He beamed at you, his energy practically infectious. “I brought some gifts too! We have spices, silks, and a bunch of other stuff from home that I think you’ll love.”

As he rattled off the list of things he brought, you found yourself…listening. Actually listening, instead of mechanically going through the motions. There was something about his unfiltered excitement that was strangely comforting. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to you like this, without calculation or hidden motives.

“I appreciate the thought,” you replied, a small flicker of something unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “I’ll have the servants take care of the gifts. Please, come inside.”

He entered the estate like a burst of sunlight, his presence immediately brightening the space. As the servants guided his entourage to their rooms, you walked alongside him, pointing out some of the estate’s features. Kalim seemed utterly fascinated by everything.

“Wow, this place is incredible!” Kalim exclaimed as they passed through the gallery. His eyes wandered over the portraits lining the walls, the tapestries depicting your family’s history. “It’s so different from back home. You must be so proud to live here.”

Pride? You hadn’t felt pride in anything for a long time. Your estate, your title—it was all just the result of relentless hard work, the endless climb to the top. But you had never stopped to admire it. To feel pride in what you’d built.

Still, you nodded, keeping your face composed. “It serves its purpose.”

Kalim gave you a curious glance. “You know, it sounds like you’re talking about a sword instead of your home.”

A sword. That’s what your life had been, hadn’t it? A weapon, sharp and unyielding, forged in battle, cutting down every obstacle in its path. But now, with Kalim’s innocent comment, you wondered—was that all it was?

Before you could respond, Kalim suddenly paused in front of one of the massive windows overlooking the gardens. The view was breathtaking, the autumn leaves casting the scene in warm, golden hues.

“Hey, look!” Kalim pointed excitedly. “Your garden! It’s so beautiful this time of year. Do you ever just sit out there and enjoy it?”

You blinked again. Enjoy it? The idea seemed foreign, almost absurd. But then, looking at Kalim’s wide, hopeful eyes, you found yourself saying, “No… I don’t.”

Kalim turned to you, that same sunny grin never leaving his face. “You should! I mean, you’ve worked so hard, right? You deserve to enjoy the little things too.”

His words caught you off guard. You’d forgotten what it felt like to enjoy anything.

But then, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a faint smile tugged at your lips. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there.

The maids and butlers who had been quietly observing from the corners of the room nearly gasped. One of them—your head butler, who had served you since the day you first took over your family’s estate—actually dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, looking as though he might burst into tears.

“D-Duchess…!” one of the younger maids whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “She’s smiling…”

You caught sight of the butler’s reaction and, for a moment, you almost laughed. It was such a strange sight—your stoic, stern staff, so moved by something as simple as a smile.

Kalim noticed it too, tilting his head curiously. “Why’s everyone so emotional?”

You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping before you could stop it. “I suppose they’re not used to seeing me… enjoy myself.”

Kalim’s grin widened, his eyes practically sparkling. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to change that! It’s about time you had some fun, right?”

You didn’t answer right away, but for the first time in years, something inside you—something long buried under layers of responsibility, grief, and betrayal—began to stir.

Perhaps he was right.

Perhaps it was time for you to remember what it felt like to live again.

The grand ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, filled with nobles and dignitaries who moved gracefully across the floor, their laughter and chatter blending with the soft music from the orchestra.

You stood at the edge of the room, as you always did during these events, keeping a careful distance from the festivities. These gatherings were necessary, of course—an unavoidable part of your role—but that didn’t mean you enjoyed them.

You took a sip of the champagne in your hand, your eyes scanning the room with practiced detachment. As always, you were observing—watching the faces, reading the subtle exchanges of power and influence happening between the guests.

The weight of your title hung heavy on your shoulders, a constant reminder of the responsibilities you bore. Even here, surrounded by laughter and music, you felt that familiar distance, the wall you had built around yourself growing ever higher.

It wasn’t until you noticed the flash of bright colors weaving through the crowd that your attention shifted. Kalim Al-Asim, as vibrant as ever, was making his way through the ballroom, greeting guests with his usual exuberance.

His silks shimmered in the soft candlelight, his wide grin impossible to miss. He moved with an ease that most nobles envied, free from the stifling formality that seemed to bind everyone else.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes found yours. His face lit up with recognition, and without hesitation, he started toward you.

“Oh, there you are!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he reached your side. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Isn’t this ball amazing? The music, the lights, the people—it’s all so lively!”

You gave him a polite nod, your usual reserved expression in place. “It’s certainly… lively.”

Kalim laughed, clearly not picking up on your lack of enthusiasm. “You’re always so serious! You should join in the fun, you know! This kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”

Before you could respond, he held out his hand to you, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. “Dance with me!”

The request caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, shaking your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t dance.”

Kalim tilted his head, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Come on! You can’t say no to a party like this! Everyone’s having such a good time—you should too.”

You opened your mouth to refuse again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was no expectation, no hidden motive—just the same infectious joy he carried with him everywhere he went. And for a moment, you hesitated, feeling something stir inside you. When was the last time you’d allowed yourself to have fun? To do something as simple as dance?

Still, old habits were hard to break. “I’m not exactly one for dancing,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

But Kalim wasn’t deterred. “That’s okay! You don’t have to be good at it—you just have to enjoy it!” He took your hand, his grip warm and inviting. “Please? Just one dance?”

There was something so sincere in his request, so full of hope, that you found yourself nodding before you could think better of it.

Kalim’s face lit up with delight, and without wasting a moment, he led you out onto the dance floor. The room seemed to blur around you as he took your hand in his, guiding you into the rhythm of the music. His movements were far from graceful, but they were full of life, and you couldn’t help but be swept along by his energy.

At first, you were stiff, your posture as rigid as ever, but Kalim’s enthusiasm was contagious. He spun you around with such glee that you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprising even to yourself. Kalim grinned at you, clearly thrilled that he had coaxed a smile from you.

“See? You’re already having fun!” he said brightly.

And he was right. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you weren’t thinking about the politics of the room, the weight of your title, or the endless responsibilities waiting for you. For this brief moment, you were just… dancing. Letting go. Enjoying yourself.

As the music swelled, Kalim twirled you again, his laughter mixing with the sounds of the ballroom. The two of you were out of step with the rest of the dancers, your movements more playful than elegant, but you didn’t care. Neither did Kalim. He didn’t care about appearances or expectations—he just wanted you to be happy, and for this one dance, you let him succeed.

Around you, the other guests had begun to notice. Whispers passed between them, astonished gazes following your every move. The Grand Duchess—stoic, untouchable—laughing and dancing with such abandon was something no one had ever expected to see. Your knights, stationed at the edge of the ballroom, exchanged incredulous glances, unable to believe what they were witnessing.

“She’s dancing…” one of them murmured, barely audible. “And she’s smiling.”

Your head butler, who had been hovering nearby as always, watched with misty eyes. “This… this is a day for the history books,” he whispered, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.

You could feel their eyes on you, the shock rippling through the room, but for once, you didn’t care. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be free, to laugh, to dance, to let go of the weight that had been pressing down on you for so long.

As the song came to an end, Kalim pulled you into one final twirl, his grin as wide as ever. When the music stopped, you found yourself breathless but… lighter. For the first time in years, you felt a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joy.

Kalim beamed at you, clearly proud of himself. “See? I told you it’d be fun!”

You shook your head, unable to stop the small smile that lingered on your lips. “You are… impossible, Kalim.”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll take that as a compliment!”

As you returned to your spot at the edge of the room, the music starting up again for the next dance, you realized that something had changed. Kalim had reminded you of something you had long forgotten—that it was okay to enjoy yourself. That even someone like you, burdened with the weight of leadership, could allow herself a moment of happiness.

And maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself more moments like this.

The night after the ball had been long and arduous, and you were ready to retreat into the sanctuary of your chambers. The walls of your estate, which had once felt like a fortress, now felt suffocating as you tried to quiet the noise in your mind.

The forced smiles, the veiled threats, the insidious whispers among the nobility—they were all routine by now, but they weighed heavier tonight.

As you reached for the door to your private quarters, a sharp knock echoed through the hallway. One of your servants stepped forward, their face pale, eyes lowered in deference.

"The Emperor has summoned you, Grand Duchess."

Your fingers froze on the door handle. The Emperor? At this hour?

Though dread prickled at your skin, you squared your shoulders and strode down the hall toward the imperial throne room. The Emperor wasn’t one for idle conversation; this was bound to be more than a simple debrief after the ball.

The grand doors to the throne room loomed before you, and with a nod from the guards, they creaked open to reveal the Emperor seated on his throne. He was draped in the finest clothes, his presence radiating authority, but there was something sharper in his gaze tonight. The first prince, stood off to the side, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind his princely facade.

You stepped into the room, head held high. You wouldn’t show weakness, not here. Not in front of them.

"Your Majesty," you greeted, voice steady.

The Emperor wasted no time. “Grand Duchess, tonight’s events have caused quite a stir.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes hard as stone. “Your rejection of the First Prince in such a public manner has… complicated things.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You clenched your fists but remained silent, waiting for him to reveal his true intention.

He sighed, a sound heavy with pretense. “The nobility is divided, and the Empire cannot afford instability. You have two choices before you.”

Your eyes flickered towards the first prince, who was barely containing his glee. You already knew what was coming.

“Marry the first prince and strengthen your position within the royal family.” The Emperor's voice was calm, deliberate. “Or, if that does not suit you…” He paused for effect, his gaze hardening as if daring you to defy him. “Marry Kalim Al-Asim and solidify our diplomatic alliance with the Scalding Sands.”

The room felt as though it had tilted. You knew this was coming, yet hearing the words spoken aloud felt like a slap across the face. “And if I refuse both?” you asked, voice colder than ice.

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “Then I will have no choice but to imprison you for defying royal decree.” He leaned back into his throne, fingers tapping on the armrest. “You’ve served this empire well, but even you are not above the law.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, fury bubbling just beneath your skin. You, who had rebuilt "your" family’s estate, who had served the empire with every drop of blood and sweat you had to give—this was your reward? An ultimatum. Marry a prince who disgusted you, or chain yourself to Kalim, someone who was the antithesis of everything you had become.

You felt your lips curl into a grim smile. “So those are my choices. A cowardly prince or shackling Kalim to someone like me—a shell of a person who’s long forgotten how to live.” The bitterness in your voice was unmistakable.

Kalim, who had been standing nearby, watching the exchange, finally stepped forward. His face was still lit with that ever-present smile, though softer now, and he didn’t seem rattled in the slightest by the gravity of the situation. “I mean… I wouldn’t mind.”

You turned to him, incredulous. What?

Kalim laughed lightly, scratching the back of his head, his tone still as carefree as ever. “I’d be happy if it’s you. Really. Out of anyone in this empire, I’d rather be with someone strong and capable like you than some stranger who doesn’t even care.” His eyes were warm, completely sincere. There wasn’t a trace of fear or doubt in his words. “Plus, you’re pretty amazing! You’ve done so much for your estate, your people... I think you’re really cool!”

For a moment, just a brief moment, your raging heart stilled.

Kalim had no idea what kind of burden this marriage would be for him. You weren’t the person you once were. The years had hardened you, chipped away at the softness, leaving only the cold, sharp edges behind. Yet here he was, smiling, accepting the situation with an ease that made you wonder how he could be so unaffected.

You swallowed hard, your anger at the Emperor still simmering, but Kalim’s words had softened the blow. This wasn’t about him. He wasn’t the one forcing you into this corner. If anything, he was as much a pawn as you were.

But that didn’t mean you would accept this quietly.

You turned back to the Emperor, the cold fire in your eyes unmistakable. “Very well,” you said, voice calm but laced with venom. “I’ll marry Kalim if that is what you demand.” You took a step forward, your gaze piercing through the Emperor. “But rest assured, Your Majesty, this humiliation will not go unanswered. I may be bound by your decree, but you will regret underestimating me.”

The Emperor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but unimpressed. “Is that a threat, Grand Duchess?”

You smiled, slow and dangerous. “A promise.”

With that, you turned on your heel, your decision made. Kalim followed you without hesitation, his steps light and unburdened.

And as you left the imperial throne room, you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kalim was smiling still, bright and carefree, as if nothing had changed.

Maybe—just maybe—you would survive this ordeal with a little less bitterness than you’d expected.

But the Emperor? He wouldn’t escape unscathed. You would make sure of that.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of your manor, casting a warm, golden light across the room as you stood in the foyer. Kalim’s people from the Scalding Sands were preparing to depart, their vibrant, colorful robes a stark contrast to the colder tones of your estate.

You watched as they bustled about, gathering their things, saying their goodbyes, and it was a strange feeling—this sudden departure of the warmth they had brought with them.

Kalim was chatting excitedly with his entourage, gesturing wildly as he recounted some tale or another. His boundless energy had not dulled, despite the situation. You wondered how someone could remain so cheerful even in the face of such an uncertain future.

One of the senior members of Kalim’s delegation approached you, bowing deeply. “Grand Duchess, we are honored by your hospitality and your graciousness in this… unexpected engagement.” He glanced at Kalim with a fond, yet slightly exasperated look. “But our duties call us back to the Scalding Sands. We regret we cannot stay longer.”

You nodded, your expression softening slightly. “You are always welcome to stay in my manor for as long as you like. Consider it an apology for the empire’s… difficult circumstances.” The words didn’t come easily, but you meant them. You hadn’t missed how awkward the situation was for them—dragged into imperial politics without much say in the matter.

The advisor looked touched, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he bowed even deeper. “Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Grand Duchess. But, alas, we must return. We have duties to fulfill back home. Our people rely on us.”

You nodded in understanding, casting a glance at Kalim, who was still busy waving goodbye to his people. “I understand. Do what you must.”

The group finished their farewells and began filing out of the estate, leaving only one person behind—Jamil, Kalim’s loyal aide, who stood with his arms crossed, looking as calm and composed as ever.

Kalim turned to you with his usual bright smile, waving at his departing entourage. “Looks like it’s just us now!”

“And Jamil,” you added dryly.

Jamil gave a polite nod. “Of course, Grand Duchess. I will remain at Kalim’s side as always.”

You offered Jamil a brief nod before turning your attention back to Kalim. “I hope the manor is to your liking. It will likely feel different without your people around.”

Kalim beamed, completely unfazed. “Are you kidding? This place is amazing! Plus, I’ve made some new friends already.”

You raised an eyebrow. “New friends?”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a trio of your staff—two maids and your head butler—rushed into the room, their arms filled with notepads. They hovered around Kalim, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement.

“Lord Al-Asim,” one of the maids began eagerly, “could you tell us again how you made the Grand Duchess laugh yesterday? We’d like to take notes.”

Kalim’s face lit up even more, if that was possible. “Oh, sure! So, I was just talking about how much I love riding on magic carpets and how one time, I almost flew straight into a flock of flamingos. You should’ve seen the feathers everywhere!” He burst into laughter, and the staff furiously scribbled in their notepads.

You stood there, blinking, utterly dumbfounded. You knew Kalim had a way of getting people to like him, but this? This was something else. You caught sight of your head butler, who was listening intently, nodding along as if Kalim were revealing some great secret to unlocking your happiness.

Kalim, noticing your expression, turned toward you with a huge grin. “See? I told you! They’re really interested in learning how to make you smile more!”

You couldn’t help it—a soft laugh escaped your lips. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Your estate, so accustomed to the stoic and rigid demeanor you carried, was now filled with your maids and butlers eagerly taking tips from a young merchant heir about how to bring joy into your life.

Your head butler gasped at the sound of your laugh, immediately dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief. “The Grand Duchess… she laughed again!” His voice quivered with emotion, and the younger maid next to him looked ready to burst into tears as well.

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself. You laughed—genuinely, fully, for the first time in what felt like years. The absurdity of it all, the sight of your normally stone-faced butler shedding tears of joy over something so simple, was too much.

Kalim, of course, laughed along with you, completely at ease. “See? It’s not so hard!”

You shook your head, still chuckling as you looked at him. “You’re impossible, Kalim.”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Hey, as long as you’re smiling, I’m doing something right!”

You glanced over at your butler, who was now openly weeping into his handkerchief. “Please, calm down. You’re making a scene.”

But the butler only waved a hand dramatically, unable to compose himself. “It is… a joy to witness such a thing, Grand Duchess. A joy I never thought I would see in my lifetime.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile lingered on your lips. “Honestly…”

Kalim, still grinning from ear to ear, looked at you with a warmth that, for just a moment, eased the tension that had been building in your chest since the engagement was announced. Though the situation was far from ideal, and though you still had plans to make the Emperor regret his actions, Kalim’s presence—his boundless energy and optimism—was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the storm clouds that had surrounded you for so long.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

<hr>

The bustling market was alive with the sights and sounds of your people going about their day—vendors calling out their wares, children running between the stalls, the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filling the air. It had been years since you last visited the market like this, blending in with the common folk, and you were struck by how much had changed since you were younger. The town had grown, thriving under your rule, and though you were always kept informed of the state of your territory, seeing it firsthand was a different experience altogether.

Beside you, Kalim was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes sparkled as he took in the vibrant displays of food, crafts, and goods, his smile as wide as ever. “Wow! This place is amazing! Look at all these stalls!” He dashed ahead, marveling at the colorful array of goods, his enthusiasm as infectious as ever.

You couldn’t help but smile at his energy, though you maintained your usual composed demeanor. “This market is one of the oldest in the region. It’s a center of trade, and many of the local families have been running their stalls for generations.”

Kalim turned to you, eyes bright with admiration. “Your people look so happy! I knew you were an amazing ruler, but seeing this with my own eyes? It’s incredible! You’ve built something really special here.”

There was a warmth in his words that caught you off guard, and for a moment, you found yourself lost in thought. You had always worked hard for your people, but you rarely took the time to reflect on how much you had accomplished. Hearing it from someone like Kalim—someone who was so honest and open in his praise—made it feel different, more personal.

He suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you toward a food stall where a vendor was grilling skewers of seasoned meat. “Hey, we’ve gotta try some of this!” Kalim exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. “It smells so good!”

The vendor, a stout older man with a friendly smile, bowed as he recognized you. “Grand Duchess! It is an honor to serve you today. Would you like to try one of our specialties?”

You nodded, taking in the scent of the sizzling food. “I’ll have two, please.”

The vendor handed you two skewers, and you turned to Kalim, offering him one. “Here, try this.”

Without a second thought, Kalim leaned in and took a bite right from the skewer you were holding, grinning up at you as he chewed. “Mmm! This is delicious!” His face lit up in delight, and he barely waited to swallow before he added, “You have to try some too!”

Before you could react, Kalim held his own skewer up to you, expecting you to do the same. The casualness of the gesture—the ease with which he shared his food—made you pause. It had been so long since anyone had treated you like this, without the usual formality or hesitation. Almost on instinct, you leaned in and took a small bite.

The flavor was rich, the spices perfectly balanced, but it wasn’t the food that had your attention. No, it was the way Kalim was watching you, his expression full of warmth and joy, as if this simple moment meant the world to him.

Your face warmed slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you realized you were blushing.

Behind you, you heard a sharp intake of breath from one of your knights, who had been quietly trailing after you. “Did… did the Grand Duchess just blush?” one of them whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with astonishment.

Another knight, equally stunned, gasped. “She did! I saw it! She actually blushed!”

You turned to glare at your knights, trying to regain your composure. “Enough,” you said sharply, though your flustered tone betrayed you. “Focus on your duties.”

But your knights were having none of it. One of them, a young woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, exchanged glances with her comrades before whispering, “Did you see how casual she was with him? They’re feeding each other like a couple!”

Another knight, eyes wide with excitement, chimed in. “I can’t believe this! The Grand Duchess… flustered by her fiancé? It’s like we’re in a romance novel!”

You shot them another look, but Kalim, completely oblivious to the whispers and side glances, just laughed, offering you more of his skewer. “Here, have some more! You look like you liked it!”

Your heart raced at the simple, kind gesture, and though you wanted to maintain your icy composure, something about Kalim’s sincerity made it impossible to stay guarded. You took another bite, feeling your face grow even warmer as your knights barely contained their squeals of excitement.

One of the senior knights, trying to remain composed but failing miserably, muttered, “This is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Lord Al-Asim is working miracles.”

“I know!” another knight whispered excitedly. “We should take notes! Maybe we can keep her in a good mood if we learn from him.”

The absurdity of it all—the idea of your battle-hardened knights taking pointers from Kalim on how to make you smile—was too much. You couldn’t help it; a soft, genuine laugh escaped your lips.

You sighed, shaking your head as Kalim smiled up at you, completely unaware of the chaos he had just caused. “You really are impossible, Kalim.”

Kalim grinned, completely at ease. “Hey, as long as you’re happy, I’m doing something right!”

For the first time in a long while, surrounded by the people you’d worked so hard to protect and with Kalim at your side, you felt a genuine lightness in your heart. Maybe this wasn’t the life you had planned, but for now, in this moment, it didn’t seem so bad.

From the moment Kalim Al-Asim first stepped into your estate, he could feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. It wasn’t something you said or did—if anything, you were composed, graceful, carrying yourself with the kind of authority that made people hesitate before speaking to you.

No, it was something deeper, something in the way your shoulders were always so tense, the way your eyes seemed to hold a kind of tiredness that went beyond just physical exhaustion.

Kalim wasn’t blind to his own shortcomings. He wasn’t the smartest guy—he knew that. He’d been told as much more times than he could count. People often saw him as naive, too happy-go-lucky for the responsibilities placed on his shoulders.

That’s what Jamil was for, after all, to cover for his inadequacies and ensure that things went smoothly. Kalim didn’t mind. He trusted Jamil more than anyone, and he knew his limits.

But when he met you, something shifted inside him.

At first, it was just awe. You were the Grand Duchess, after all—the person everyone talked about. A ruler who had risen to power not by birthright but through sheer will and skill.

You had this aura of strength around you, like a shield. But Kalim could see the cracks in that armor, the way the weight of your responsibilities was crushing you, little by little. And it hurt to see.

He’d expected you to be cold, maybe even harsh, like so many nobles who carried the weight of authority. But when you greeted him, your voice wasn’t harsh—it was gentle. There was pressure behind it, sure, but you didn’t snap at him or dismiss his excitement, even though he knew people often found him a bit too much.

Instead, you listened to him. You smiled—a small, almost invisible one—but it was there, and it lit something inside him. A flutter he didn’t quite know how to describe.

It was when you smiled for him for the first time that he really felt it. That small, faint curve of your lips after he’d gotten a little too excited about something as simple as a window view of your garden. The flutter in his chest was unfamiliar, but he didn’t dislike it. No, in fact, it felt… nice. Special.

Kalim couldn’t help but want to make you smile again.

He’d seen so many people forced into roles that didn’t let them be happy, and he hated that you seemed to be one of them. You were strong, yeah, but you were suffering, too. And that was something Kalim couldn’t stand. So, from that moment on, he made it a personal goal to lighten the weight on your shoulders, even if just a little.

He didn’t have Jamil’s cleverness, didn’t understand the nuances of the political games you were constantly playing, but maybe—just maybe—he could give you something simple. A reminder that life wasn’t just about duty and responsibility, that there could be joy, too. If anyone deserved to smile more, it was you.

And when you did, that tiny flutter in his chest bloomed into something more. He didn’t have the words for it, but whatever it was, it made him even more determined to stick by your side.

Because in the end, Kalim Al-Asim wasn’t the smartest, but he knew one thing for sure: he liked making you happy. And if he could do that, even in the smallest ways, then maybe that was enough.

The wedding had been a grand affair—briefly mentioned in conversations, a formality that had swept through the palace in a whirlwind of silks, flowers, and the astonished murmurs of nobles. Now, life had settled into its new rhythm. The days moved forward, filled with work and the familiar weight of duty, yet something had shifted. Something brighter.

You sat at your desk, papers spread out in front of you, quill in hand. The room was quiet, save for the soft scratching of pen on parchment. But then, a familiar burst of energy entered the room.

Kalim.

He bounded over to you, practically glowing with life, as always. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming as he plopped down beside you, legs crossed, hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

“Hey, what’re you working on? Anything exciting? You should take a break—you’ve been at it for hours!” His words bubbled up, his excitement palpable.

You glanced up from your work, unable to suppress the smallest of smiles. Kalim had that effect—an infectious lightness that made everything around him feel… easier. As he leaned closer to peer at your papers, you felt the warmth of his presence, the joy that radiated from him in every small movement.

And then, it hit you.

The past few months, since you had arrived in this world, had been the best you could remember. Despite everything—despite the weight of your responsibilities, the confusion of your new life—there had been him. Kalim, always there with his endless enthusiasm, his unwavering kindness. He was the reason those months had been so full of life, so unexpectedly joyful.

Without thinking, you reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him down onto your lap. His laughter bubbled up in surprise as you tugged him into your space, but before he could say anything, you leaned in and kissed him.

For a moment, the world stilled. His lips were soft, warm against yours, and you could feel the surprised smile lingering there, slowly deepening as he kissed you back, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

When you pulled back, his eyes sparkled, his grin wider than ever.

“Well, that was unexpected!�� he laughed, his cheeks flushed. “I should interrupt your work more often!”

The chaos hit you the moment you opened the door.

Papers were scattered everywhere, an overturned chair lay dramatically in the corner, and somehow, somehow, Kalim had managed to knock over an entire shelf of books, which now covered the floor in what could only be described as a literary avalanche.

In the center of it all was Kalim himself, spinning wildly in circles as he tried to catch a parrot—yes, a parrot—that was squawking and flapping around the room like it had a personal vendetta against order.

"Oh! You're back!" Kalim shouted, not missing a beat as he stumbled over a pile of papers, arms flailing as the parrot swooped low above his head. "You wouldn’t believe it—Jamil said not to bring the bird in, but I thought, 'Hey, it’ll liven things up!' And now it’s really livening things up!"

The parrot screeched in agreement, swooping low again as Kalim tried (and failed) to dodge it, knocking into another pile of books in the process.

You just stood there, blinking, trying to comprehend the sheer absurdity of what you were seeing. Your instinct—your usual instinct—would have been to explode, to demand why Kalim had brought a parrot into your office and created a scene worthy of a disaster movie.

But then Kalim turned toward you, still laughing despite the madness, his eyes bright with excitement and joy. He looked so happy, so full of life, and that grin—oh, that ridiculous, infectious grin—just melted away any irritation you might’ve felt.

You sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated, but completely smitten.

"Why did you bring a parrot in here, Kalim?" you asked, not really expecting a logical answer.

"I thought it could help!" he said earnestly, ducking again as the parrot flapped by. "You know, for moral support! But I think it’s mad about the crackers I gave it—they weren’t the fancy ones."

Despite yourself, you snorted a laugh. Fancy crackers for a parrot. Of course.

Shaking your head, you rolled up your sleeves and waded into the chaos. "Alright," you said with a sigh, "how do we calm this thing down?"

"I knew you'd help!" Kalim beamed, his grin wider than ever as he accidentally knocked over another stack of books while trying to reach for the bird. "You’re the best!"

And just like that, any frustration you might’ve felt disappeared. It was impossible to stay mad when Kalim was around, when he looked at you like that, his smile brighter than the chaos surrounding you.

Sure, you should’ve been irritated—you definitely should’ve scolded him—but the truth was, you didn’t care. Not when you liked seeing him happy like this.

The parrot screeched again, now perched on top of the chandelier, and you looked at Kalim, who was already planning his next attempt to capture it, enthusiasm never wavering.

"Alright," you muttered with a smirk, "let’s catch a parrot."

Because really, with Kalim, how could you say no?

The council chamber was as dull as ever. Endless discussions, arguments over treaties and trade, and the first prince droning on with his overinflated sense of importance. Once, you would have gritted your teeth and endured it, forcing yourself to care because you had to—because that was what duty demanded.

But now, with Kalim beside you, the air felt lighter. His presence added a quiet warmth, even in this room filled with scheming nobles and stifling protocol.

You caught Kalim sneaking glances at you, barely containing his grin, and he leaned in, whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we snuck out? I saw this really nice restaurant on the way.”

You smothered a laugh, turning your gaze downward. You’d never dreamed you could feel such joy during these dreary meetings, but here you were, caught in this bubble with him, like the two of you were the only people in the room. His happiness became your own, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The first prince’s voice faltered, his expression darkening as he noticed the soft smile you were trying to hide. Anger sparked in his eyes, a sharp glint of resentment as he realized his plans to manipulate you had come to nothing. He looked at you and Kalim as if he were staring at an infuriating puzzle—one that needed to be destroyed.

That night, after a grueling day of meetings, you made your way to your chambers. The hallways were quiet, and the familiar comforts of your estate filled you with calm, but something felt off. Shadows stretched where they shouldn’t, moving unnaturally, as if they had a life of their own. Your instincts kicked in, and you quickened your pace.

You reached your shared bedroom, a flicker of movement catching your eye. There, in the corner, figures clad in dark robes converged around Kalim. His eyes widened, but before he could react, you lunged forward, fury blazing in your veins.

You fought them off with nothing but raw strength and sheer will, each blow desperate and ferocious. They struck at you, blades glinting, and you felt pain slice across your skin, but you refused to yield, refusing to let them get anywhere near him.

At last, the final attacker crumpled to the floor. You staggered, blood staining your clothes, the pain seeping into every limb, but Kalim’s arms were already there, catching you before you could fall.

His expression was uncharacteristically serious, his cheerful demeanor replaced by something sharp, regal—a reminder that he was no mere boy in love but the heir of a powerful family.

The doctor arrived, working quickly, and once you were settled in bed, Kalim took a seat beside you. His gaze was steady, intense, and for the first time, you saw the weight of responsibility in his eyes, the silent authority he usually kept hidden beneath layers of laughter and joy.

“Why did you fight them alone?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t have to—”

You shook your head, a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Because no one hurts you. Not while I’m here.”

His hand stilled, and a flicker of pain crossed his face. “I didn’t have to stay, you know.” His voice was soft but firm, carrying the weight of a decision made long ago. “I’m not tied to this empire. My family’s influence is vast; we don’t need anyone’s approval. But I stayed… because I like being here with you. Because I…” His voice faltered, but his gaze held yours. “Because I love you.”

Kalim’s hand clasped yours, his fingers warm and steady. “The Scalding Sands will manage without this empire. And this place… it doesn’t deserve you. Not when it has hurt you like this.” His voice grew colder, a tone you’d never heard from him before. “Let it fall apart, for all I care. I’m done watching it drain the life out of you.”

For a long moment, you lay there, absorbing the enormity of his words. A world without the burden of duty, free from the endless cycles of treachery and expectation. And Kalim beside you, offering not just escape, but freedom, and a life filled with joy.

A soft laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. “I don’t care if the empire crashes and burns,” you murmured, your hand tightening around his. “I don’t care about any of it. I just want you.”

Kalim’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing gently against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a promise of a new beginning. It was a moment that felt like the closing of one life and the opening of another, a vow sealed with warmth and certainty.

You both pulled back, breathless but smiling, a new, shared future blooming between you. And when you finally closed your eyes, your hand still in his, you knew you’d face whatever came next together, no matter where it led.

The final ball was as grand as ever, the ballroom filled with nobles dressed in the finest silks and jewels, their laughter and chatter a thin veil over the ever-present tension in the room.

You entered with Kalim by your side, the weight of what you were about to do settling over you like armor. The empire had always been a battlefield for you, but tonight… tonight, you were walking away from it all.

At the far end of the ballroom, the Emperor sat on his gilded throne, the golden imperial crest looming behind him. His eyes scanned the room lazily, but you could see the calculation in his gaze. Beside him stood the First Prince, his eyes narrowing at you the moment you entered. His jaw clenched, the flicker of rage barely contained beneath the surface.

You weren’t here to dance, though. No, tonight was about setting yourself free.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the center of the ballroom, Kalim’s presence a comforting warmth beside you. The chatter died down almost instantly, and all eyes turned toward you. Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd—what was the Grand Duchess planning now?

You gave them no time to speculate.

“Your Majesty,” you called out, your voice sharp enough to cut through the murmurs. “I stand before you one last time to say this: I will no longer serve this Empire.”

The room fell into stunned silence, gasps echoing off the walls. The Emperor’s eyes darkened, his hand gripping the armrest of his throne tightly, but you didn’t stop.

“Your empire,” you continued, your voice rising, “is built on the backs of people far better than you. You are a rotten king. You speak of honor and glory, but all you do is send others to die for your own ambition. I bled for this empire, fought your wars, won your battles, and for what? So you could sit on your throne, pretending to be a ruler when you’re nothing but a coward hiding behind false titles?”

The nobles gasped again, their shock palpable. No one had ever spoken to the Emperor like this.

“And you,” you snapped, turning toward the First Prince, your eyes blazing. “You—who ordered the assassination of my husband because I rejected you—are even worse. A spineless coward with nothing to back your ego. You hide behind your father’s power, hoping that killing the man I love will somehow make me regret not choosing you. But I could never love someone as weak as you. You are pathetic.”

His face turned an ugly shade of red, his hand twitching toward the sword at his side, but you weren’t afraid. You had seen what he was capable of—nothing.

The Emperor finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You dare insult your emperor, the man who gave you your title?”

“I earned my title,” you snapped, stepping forward. “I didn’t need your permission or your favor to become who I am. You gave me nothing that I didn’t take for myself. And I’ll tell you this—I will never fight another war for someone as revolting as you.”

The Emperor’s mask of indifference cracked, his eyes blazing with fury, but behind it, you could see the desperation. He needed you. The Empire needed you. They couldn’t afford to lose you.

He leaned forward, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What do you want? Wealth? Power? I’ll give you anything. Just don’t walk away.”

You almost laughed at the irony of it—this man who had always acted like you were disposable, now begging you to stay.

But you didn’t need his power. You didn’t need his wealth. You glanced at Kalim, who stood beside you with that same warmth, that same unshakable love in his eyes. And in that moment, you knew exactly what you wanted.

“Kalim is enough,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I don’t need anything from you.”

With that, you turned on your heel, not sparing the Emperor or his pathetic son another glance. Kalim followed without question, his hand finding yours as you walked out of the ballroom, your loyal knights, butler, and maids falling in step behind you.

You could hear the stunned whispers of the nobles behind you, their shock hanging in the air like a tangible thing, but you didn’t care. You had walked away from the Empire, from its corruption, from its endless, soul-sucking games.

And now? Now, you were free.

As the cool night air hit your face, Kalim squeezed your hand, his bright smile lighting up the darkness. “So,” he said, his voice filled with excitement, “where should we go first on our adventure?”

You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in years. “Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

And with that, you ran. Away from the Empire, away from the pain of your past, toward a future filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were truly happy.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist