kaechannn

[kaechannn]

If you were a new girl in Satoru’s school, he’d be the type to…

Eye you from head to toe the moment you stepped into class. There was suspicion laced in his cold gaze, always doubtful, always cautious. When exactly he let his guard down, it’s hard to tell – it could have been when your eyes met his and he saw nervousness, an overwhelming awareness of every movement you were making, and a desire to not make any waves. Alternatively, it could have been when he heard your voice call out your own name as part of that awkward introduction everyone has to do and heard nothing but a friend he had yet to make. 

Remember your name. It shocked you the first time you heard it roll off his tongue like it had belonged there all along, he could tell. You blinked, cartoon-like, for a couple seconds before you stuttered a response. Maybe you weren’t expecting him to approach you, maybe you weren’t expecting him to say it with so much warmth, and maybe, just maybe, you wanted to hear it again. 

Poke you during classes. At first, the poking began out of curiosity; you were always so rigid, so tense, he wondered if you were actually a statue. Soon, it evolved into a game, kinda like the one he played with Suguru, where you have to stab sticks into a box and get as many in without bursting the balloon concealed inside. On a normal day, he could get up to six pokes with the eraser side of his pencil. When you got fed up, you’d cut him a glare, which darkens when he only grinned in victory. Sometimes, you didn’t look at him at all. Those days sucked. 

Steal the attention from you if you get into trouble. Though generally studious – if all those times you rejected his offer to have lunch together in lieu of reading up on textbooks were anything to go by – you did, occasionally, show up to class unprepared or late. If for any reason, you became the target of the teacher’s wrath, Satoru would watch you shuffle and fidget, clearly embarrassed, in front of the whole class. He’d tilt his head and think, wow, he’d hate to be you right now. Which, of course, never explained why he’d yawn loudly and pick a fight with the teacher. “Why are you balding?” He’d asked. “You need to cut back on the beer, sir…respectfully.” Distracted, your wrongdoings would be forgotten and the attention shifted away from you. He never looked your way when you tried to thank him. 

Drop snacks and drinks on your desk, claiming it was on a buy one get one free discount. Or, ignore Suguru so he could partner up with you instead, knowing that his charming friend had his pick of the litter and you would rather opt to sit, alone, in the corner. And definitely the type to jog backwards away from the group of boys in P.E so he can make fun of your uncoordinated limbs. 

Interrupt whoever’s talking to him to run over to you the moment you enter his peripheral; he’d gotten his fair share of bumps and bruises from doing it one too many times to his best friends. 

Share his bento with you. Well, it’s less sharing and more dumping the things he didn’t like over to your lunch box. Might even steal an octopus-shaped sausage, or two, from you. And he’d never admit it, but he often purposefully forgot his water bottle at home just so he could drink from yours. It wasn’t anything creepy, at least he didn’t think so. He just liked confirming that you two had gotten close enough to share bottles.

Join you in punishments. You’d talk in class, pass notes, and skip so, naturally, you faced disciplinary action quite often. However, they were rarely ever your fault. Not really, anyway. It was Satoru who pestered you with hushed jokes until you hissed at him to shut up. It was the white-haired boy who passed you folded pieces of papers with little doodles that you’d try to return, only to be blamed for it. And it was always, always Satoru who made you forgo the classes, what with his promises of something cooler and better, whether it was a bird’s nest or a rainbow or a spot perfect for people watching. Deservedly, you’d be sent out into the hallway and forced to stand in silence, which never lasted for very long because mere seconds after you, someone else came to join.

Whistling, he'd stand beside you, a little too close. Minutes would go by where neither of you spoke. Sometimes no one did. And most times, it was he who'd break first. Rocking on his feet, he’d nudge you and say something stupid like, “You really need to stop following me; it’s getting creepy.”

He’d say it too at the altar, eyes twinkling and grin painful. 

Right before you kiss him, at the moment where your lips skim against each other, and the whole world awaits your joining, he’d whisper, “Followed me all the way here too? Damn, Mrs. Gojo, you're obsessed.”

[kaechannn]

[kaechannn]

₍^. .^₎⟆ synposis: soulmate!AU. nanami begins to find things that don't belong to him in his apartment. lipgloss. a single sock. a hair dryer. and in the middle of it all, a fluffy turtle keychain he wishes to give back to his unknown but destined lover. word count: 2.5k

it starts with a plush keychain.

nothing too loud or flashy, just a fluffy yellow turtle with a metal clip on.

gojo nearly falls out of his chair when he spots it tucked between nanami's array of books and reading glasses. it's clearly out of place, cute and plush against the pristine cleanliness and monochromatic chic of nanami's apartment, and nanami doesn't harbor any secret children (that gojo knows of).

"and whoooooose is this? or more likely, which lady's is this?" gojo sing songs, dangling the keychain from his pinky finger. nanami sighs, his back turned to gojo as his coffee finishes brewing, the clipped comment dying in his mouth when he spots what the silver haired man is holding.

nanami has a near photographic memory of everything in his apartment. he's damn near curated every inch of his living space. at first he thinks it's a joke.

"where'd you even get that, gojo." he grumbles, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

"it was right here on your bedside table." gojo scoffs at the accusation.

the black coffee burns nanami's throat on the way down.

"if this is some kind of a prank, i'm afraid it's not that funny."

gojo actually pouts at that, like a little child that's been told off, before crossing his arms.

"I'm being serious, nanami! It was laying right here in between your books!" he pauses, before breaking into a big smile. "So you're either hiding a girl-"

"i'm not seeing anyone."

"or this is... the sign."

nanami pretends not to know, in an effort to calm his racing heartbeat.

"what sign?"

gojo's eyes widen.

"what sign? are you hearing yourself? this is your soulmate's lost item! this is so exciting! we have to celebrate! I have to text everyone we know, arrange flowers, there's this amazing restaurant downtown that does the most incredible s-"

whilst his friend rattles on, nanami's eyes remain fixated on the little turtle now sitting on his kitchen table, warmth blooming across his chest. he'd heard the stories of course. soulmates' lost possessions ending up in each other's homes. but he hadn't gotten his hopes up. not everyone in the world would have a soulmate. nor would it be so easy to say with certainty that finding strange items in your house would be attributable to a soulmate. but this...

his hands moved on their own accord, left hand brushing up against the toy. the keychain was soft in his hands, yellow fur and black stitched smile.

"and- hello? are you even listening to me?!"

nanami hums, if only to placate gojo, whose short attention span has now been diverted by a new text from geto. when gojo rushes out the apartment door, stealing a pack of mochi from the kitchen counter whilst rushing out goodbyes, nanami doesn't even bother to look up from where he's standing.

leaning up against the marble countertops of his kitchen, twisting and examining the soft plush from all angles. his heart flutters at the realization that he's holding something that belongs to... his one and only.

patting the small head of the toy turtle, he tucks it into his coat pocket, vowing to reunite it with its owner in the future.

a week later, on a lazy Sunday morning, he finds lipgloss where his extra toothpaste should be.

but not just a tube of lipgloss.

an array of different lipglosses of all shades - dark burgundy, cherry red, barbie pink, soft pink, sparkly peach. it makes nanami's head spin, pulling down one tube of lipgloss after another that have magically appeared in his bathroom mirror cabinet.

examining each one with surgical precision, he notices that one of the shades are clearly more used up than another. barbie pink. he makes a mental note of this, carefully placing away the lipglosses in a spare toiletry bag he keeps under the sink.

over the course of a month, that bag becomes filled with little remnants of his soulmate. nearly empty perfume bottles. a single sock with a print of a golden retriever. multi colored hair ties. a small travel sized shampoo and body wash set. these items appear randomly and suddenly without warning, often when he's having a bad day.

a late 1am return from work, his head pounding from exhaustion and dehydration? he nearly steps on the perfume bottle laying on the floor near his bedroom door. it's clearly well loved, with only a third or so left, and smells distinctively of vanilla and lavender.

a 7am rush as the city wakes up behind him, the streets of tokyo buzzing with energy as he clips on his shoes? he finds a multi pack of hair ties sitting neatly in between the gaps of his shoes in the cupboard.

nanami even almost misses the single sock - navy blue with a golden retriever print on it - hanging from his closet when he's cleaning, because of how natural it looks. when he takes it off from the rack, he turns it over in his hand and smiles: imagining how nice it would be to have her cardigan draped over his couch and pairs of socks tucked into his closet.

now whenever nanami can't sleep, he imagines what his soulmate looks like. is she tall? short? shy? extroverted? a coffee person or a tea person? the type to laugh loudly with her whole chest and heart, or giggle silently to herself in an effort to hide her laugh?

his hands inevitably find the soft turtle keychain sitting by his bed, stroking its fur and imagining what it would be like to hold her hand instead, as his mind starts to drift off to sleep.

he wonders if she'd have some things of his as well. nanami isn't a forgetful or clumsy type of person, but he is human. he can't really name the last thing he's lost - maybe a bookmark or a reusable straw - but he sometimes wonders if he should purposefully forget something so it would end up at her place.

he's not even sure if that's how these things work.

autumn fades into winter, the cold nights bearable only with the surprise of what he might find in his apartment today. he's actually disappointed when he returns to an 'empty' house, everything in place and just as he remembered. he starts to think the universe is playing a cruel joke on him (or that she's gotten good at keeping track of her things) when a full month goes by with no lost items appearing in his place.

then, he spots a portable charger that's not compatible with his phone lying on his bed, and he knows he has her back.

and when he finds three missing items in the span of one week during a particularly rough December - a fraying picnic blanket with square patterns, a pair of fluffy thigh high boots, and an expensive looking hair dryer - he wonders if she's losing these things on purpose.

all in all, his apartment is no longer looking like a one bed bachelor suite belonging to a single salary man. but more of a couple's living space with his and hers items adorning every shelf and table.

it's gotten to the point that having people over - even for a few minutes - is difficult, without being subject to many eyebrow raises and accusations of dating behind his friends' backs.

as the months now stretch into spring, the frostbite of winter melting away into gentle spring breezes and early sunrises, nanami finds himself getting impatient. when will he meet her?

he knows it's foolish, to even think that it'll happen. the fact that he's even been given a soulmate is something to be grateful for. but there's an ache that nibbles on the side of his ribs, a buzzing anticipation that never leaves his mind when he stands in the middle of a crowded place.

in every train station. public crossing. jam packed bar filled with cigarette smoke. he looks for her, one hand always in his coat pocket, stroking the soft pet turtle that started it all. he imagines it'll be like the movies, he'll come across a stranger and he'll just know.

his stomach will flutter, his vision will blur, and his heart will instantly make the connection.

but it never happens, much to his disappointment.

it's now April, a few months to summer. the cherry blossoms are finally out and nanami needs a morning run to clear his mind. a quick shot of espresso and light stretches in his living room are all he needs before his shoes are hitting the pavement, dodging cyclists and pedestrians enjoying their gentle 7am walk.

a few laps in the park later, he's back in his apartment just in time to fold his running clothes for the washing machine and take a long shower.

a man of routine, he combs his hair and applies his meticulous skincare routine, counting downards from ten. whilst adjusting his tie, he inspects his suit for any faults and finishes by spraying himself with the same vanilla and lavender perfume of his soulmate's.

lastly, out of habit, he makes sure that the turtle keychain is kept safe and secured in his coat pocket.

clipping on his watch on his wrist, nanami doesn't look onto the street as he exits the elevator. he collides with a body, the stranger letting out a surprised yelp and the sound of iced coffee splashing the pavement.

"I am so very sorry." nanami immediately says, lowering his glasses to look at you right in your eyes. you thankfully don't seem mad, just a bit sheepish, as you accept his left hand to stand back up on your wobbly feet.

"no worries. i should've been walking so fast." you try and laugh it off, your brain going haywire at just how good looking this guy is. he's blonde, tall, clearly athletic - from how the tight fitting suit is hugging his body - with a jawline that could kill.

he even smells like your favorite perfume, vanilla and lavender.

"not at all, i was preocuppied with my thoughts and didn't look onto the street before stepping out." nanami quips, eyes falling onto the spilled coffee. "could i buy you a new coffee as an apology?"

"oh, i don't want to bother you-" you start, though internally you want nothing more but to keep talking to this handsome stranger.

"please, you wouldn't be." he assures you, heart fluttering at how wide and genuine your smile seems to be when you accept. when you bend over to pick up the split coffee cup, his eyes land on your socks and his throat dries up.

mismatched socks. one plain black sock. and the other, a navy blue sock with a very familiar golden retriever print.

'stay calm, nanami.' he scolds himself as you walk alongside him on the way to the cafe, quiet conversation filling the air about what you both do for work. 'this could mean anything. it could just be a popular sock brand.'

the conversation is easy. you're witty, kind, you hold his bicep to stop him from walking into traffic when he doesn't realize the light has suddenly turned red. then, you get all embarassed, apologizing for grabbing onto his arm without asking.

it makes his heart so warm.

and when you arrive at the cafe, casually slinging your bag over to the other shoulder whilst ordering, he notices the array of keychains hanging from your bag.

his heart skips another beat.

"you like my keychains?" you ask with a quiet laugh, noticing how intensely he's staring at your bag. "i'm a bit of a collector with these things. i just think they make my bags look more... unique and cute."

"do they each tell a story?" he quips, lips curling at the end. god, he finds you so cute, especially when your eyes light up whilst delving into detail about each keychain.

"..but my favorite one I lost sometime last year." you say, thanking the barista as you accept the drinks. your fingers brush against his when you pass him his black americano.

walking side by side on the pavement, nanami's heart beats irregularly at that declaration, but you're none the wiser. only innocently tilting your head sideways and asking if his coffee is good.

"it's great." he lies, as if the bitter coffee isn't burning his throat from the anticipation bubbling in his stomach.

fuck it.

"what was it?" he blurts out, unable to keep it in.

"what was?" you ask, confused.

"the keychain you lost."

"a turtle." you say with a small laugh, licking away the foam of coffee on your lips. "silly, i know but my cousin got it for me."

he stops breathing for a second.

"... was it a yellow turtle by any chance?"

nanami stops in his tracks. you two are back in front of the apartment where he bumped into you. his blood is rushing so loud in his ears that he's worried you can hear it, as your eyes widen in surprise.

"h-how'd you..."

"a fluffy yellow turtle with white fins and a black stitched smile?" he finishes, smile so fond and wide that it blinds you.

you're at a complete loss for words, the gravity of the situation beginning to settle in, when he suddenly takes out (from his coat pocket) the very keychain you had lost and sorely missed.

"i've got it. and every other thing you've misplaced for the past year."

you stare at his open palm in disbelief, eyes carefully examining the object as you take the keychain from his hands and feel its fur against your fingertips. your heart is thundering in your chest, your soulmate smiling at you so brightly.

"i'm nanami, by the way. nanami kento." he introduces himself, ever so the gentleman.

"(y/n). (y/n) (l/n)."

there's an uniterrupted beat of silence, with nanami staring at you so intensely with burning adoration and you suddenly feeling the rush of embarrassment of how much you've lost in the past year.

"oh god, did you really keep everything i've lost?" you groan, nearly whining.

he only chuckles.

"yes i did. neatly categorized and filed in my apartment." he pauses, surveying your reaction. "would you like to come up and see?"

"yes." you say too quickly, before you're shaking your head sideways in an effort to calm yourself. "i mean, yes, uh, that'd be nice."

he turns to let you in, before he turns back around abruptly, stopping you in your tracks. you stare up at him, confused.

he only smiles, soft and gentle.

"hold on." nanami says, stepping closer to you. you're overwhelmed by his scent, mix of aftershave and vanilla lavender perfume, and how gentle his hands are when he takes the turtle keychain from your left hand.

he clips it onto your bag, giving it a gentle tug to ensure it's secure.

"there. don't lose it again." he says lowly, but there's a hint of teasing to his tone.

"and if i do?" you ask quietly, teasing him back, letting him drag you through the doors of his apartment.

nanami takes your hand, but this time, he doesn't let it go.

"you can come back to me."

a/n: ahhhh my first ever fic! i'm absolutely obsessed with nanami at the moment so i wanted to write something sweet for him. i remember reading a marvel fic with this soulmate AU idea a few years ago (soulmates find each other's lost possession in their apartment) so i wanted to give it a spin.

ᯓ★ likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ᯓ★

[kaechannn]

“Yeah, yeah, and then he was like, ‘Your skin is glowing as of late. I can tell you’ve been consistent with your self-care routine, I’m proud of you,’” you told the fish, which gathered at the edge of the pond where you were crouching. 

What was once a walk to find some rare herb Vil had told you about turned into a little vent session with the local pond creatures. You needed to tell someone about these feelings, and you did not trust Grim to keep quiet or give you any real advice. In your lap was the basket Vil sent you off with, filled with the herb he had request. You did owe him a favor after everything he did for you, but deep down, you were hoping he asked you to find it for him out of something deeper, like trust and perhaps affection.

You frowned at the fish, “He’s way out of my league,” you mumbled, pressing your cheek into your palm while your elbow rested upon your leg, “But I can’t help but be drawn to him. He’s so… helpful? And beautiful, of course. But he can be so blunt, too. Ugh…”

The fish said nothing, of course, merely swimming close to where you were, their vibrant colors glistening under the water like fresh varnish over a painting. They made for good listeners. 

“Can you believe it, though? Vil Schoenheit—proud of me? Me, of all people. I nearly swooned on the spot when he said it.” You placed your hand over your beating heart. “Instead, I blurted out some ridiculous response. How embarrassing.”

“I hope he doesn’t think I’m weird after that.”

“Hmm, your response did not make you seem weird,” Vil said, approaching you from behind, “But talking to fish certainly does.”

You shrieked and stood up quickly, turning around to face him while holding the basket close to yourself, “O–Oh my goodness! Vil, what are you… What are you doing out here?”

The blonde stepped forward, reaching out to smooth your hair and adjust your clothes, which had become disheveled during your journey to gather the herbs he requested. He sighed, “You were taking so long. I worried something may have attacked you. I would be responsible if something bad happened to you.” He pulled his hands back. “Instead, I find you conversing with the fish.”

Your face grew warm, and you looked down. “How much did you hear?” 

“Enough,” he said. His violet gaze looked over you for any signs of injury, but all he could find was some dirt from your little adventure. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then I can show you what I planned to use the herbs for.” He placed a hand on your back, leading you out of the woods. Even after that embarrassing encounter, he seemed coolheaded as ever. It was impressive.

You could not hear it over the pounding of your own, but his heart beat picked up with excitement.

©rooksamoris 2025. do not steal or translate my work!

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[kaechannn]

satoru is terrible at making breakfast.

and yet there he is, in your kitchen, scurrying around with the eggs and beating them like they owe him money while flitting his eyes between the eggs and the youtube video playing on his cracked phone that he's watching for instructions — MAKE IT LIKE A CHEF: easiest french toast tutorial!!!

then oh no the bacon burns, and oh no he nudged the egg carton off the counter top along with the milk because he turned around too fast.

"ah shit. ah fuck. god damn!" he's cursing and frantically trying to clean up the disaster.

"toruuu? what's goin' on?" you mumble groggily, creeping out from around the corner of the wall into the kitchen and giving him such a fright that he almost drops the egg carton that just fell.

"oh fuck good morning baby hi, 'm making breakfast for my hot girlfriend. see?"

you look at the warzone that is the kitchen, see an egg cracked on the floor, see bacon ranging from edible to ominous black substance, and then crack into a worried smile.

"wow... it looks so..."

"don't thank me yet, it's not done. now kiss the chef and sit your cute ass down while i finish the french toast — trust me, i watched a tutorial on how to do it."

[kaechannn]

[kaechannn]

A Leaf from Tomorrow

SUMMARY: you were just trying to get some food when you are suddenly faced with a child who is freezing the cafeteria. but the most surprising thing was that he called you mother and has an undeniable resemblance to both yourself and malleus.

PAIRING: malleus draconia x reader

WARNINGS: biological children are implied and the usage of mother

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist | Diasomnia Masterlist

It was time you put your foot down and stop your food from being stolen. Well, you didn't really put your foot down. You just told your friends that you would eat later in the cafeteria when they all went. It was a drastic measure, but you couldn't continue living like that.

Every time you, Deuce, Ace, and Grim ate together, you never got nearly enough food in your stomach, because Ace and Grim seemed to believe that your food was also their food. So now you were on your way to have lunch on your own. Hopefully, someone you knew is also still there. Otherwise, it will be super awkward to sit at a table with a bunch of strangers. It will make you self-conscious of how you eat...

But it seems you didn't need to worry about eating right now.

A group of students came frantically running from the cafeteria, nearly knocking you over in the process. You barely got out of the way in time by stepping between two statues in the hallway.

One of your fellow students seemed to have the same idea, because he squeezed himself beside you, so he could catch his breath for a moment.

"What is going on? Why is everyone running?" you asked him, seizing the opportunity to get answers without needing to possibly get involved in the chaos.

The unknown student took a few heavy breaths before answering. "An attack! Someone is freezing the cafeteria. I think some students even got frozen."

"What?" You were in disbelief that it was really that bad. "Are you sure it's not just a prank from a few mischievous students or ghosts?"

"I know what I saw. That definitely wasn't a prank!" the student said, clearly offended you’d even suggest it.

You turned to the entrance of the cafeteria when you felt the temperature in the hallway drop. You couldn't see anything from your place. But you could feel the pressure of magic in the air. It felt powerful. So it must be true what the student said. But there were only a handful of things that could charge the air with this amount of magic.

"Was it an Overblot?" you asked the student, now sharing his panic.

"I don't know. Do you think I stayed long enough to check?" he snapped at you, before his voice returned to a more civilized tone. "I don't think I saw blot ink or a phantom anywhere... But does it even matter? We should get outta here and let someone else deal with whatever is in the cafeteria."

The student didn't wait for you and instead sprinted off. You wanted to follow, but stopped when you suddenly heard what sounded like the hysterical cry of a child.

Your breath hitched as the temperature dipped again, cold nipping at your cheeks and frosting the edges of the hallway tiles. The crack of ice spreading echoed faintly from the cafeteria doors. And then that cry came again.

Who would bring a child to Night Raven College? And why would they be alone?

The impulse to run warred with your instincts. But something about the sound rooted you in place. A chill that had nothing to do with ice crept up your spine.

So once again, throwing any sense of self-preservation out the window, you decided to investigate the cafeteria.

As you approached the entrance, a thin layer of ice curled and crept across the floor beneath your feet. The temperature was dropping as if the air itself recoiled with sadness.

And then you saw it.

The cafeteria doors were open, hanging slightly ajar, frost spiderwebbing from their hinges. The cafeteria was a frozen winter scene. Tables were rimmed with rime. Plates of forgotten lunches sat frozen mid-bite. Students who hadn’t escaped in time were partially encased in thick magical ice. Thankfully, it didn't seem like they were injured. They are just trapped.

And in the center of it all, curled up and trembling within a growing circle of frost, was a boy.

He couldn’t have been older than five or six. His hands covered his face as sobs wracked his tiny frame. You were struck by the sight of such a young child in this place. A child who seemed so out of place amidst the suffering he unintentionally caused.

The ice creeped outward with each of his hiccupping sobs, the magic surging with raw, unchecked emotion. His hair shared the same color as yours. Small horns peeked out from beneath the tousled locks. They were curved, and unmistakably draconic.

Your breath hitched.

Horns.

The resemblance to Malleus was impossible to ignore. Not just the horns, but also the gentle curve of the boy’s brow, and the elegant bone structure of his tear-stained face. But there was something in his eyes, when he finally looked up at you. They were wide, watery, and impossibly green. But lacking the sharp edge Malleus would have had. The boy's eyes were softer and his nose cute. That hit deeper.

Not like Malleus. Like... you.

You looked at the boy in silence for a few moments, not sure what to say. "Eh... Are you hurt?" you asked eventually your tone of voice awkward, as you tried to smile reassuringly at him.

The boy's big, round eyes were staring at you. He blinked a few times. "M-mother...?"

Huh?

Before you could ask or clarify anything, the boy ran toward you and launched himself into your arms. His tiny frame seemed to hide an impossible strength, because you felt like he would actually snap your spine if he hugged you any tighter. "Mother!!"

You were as frozen in place as the unfortunate students, who didn't get away in time. You didn't know how to handle this situation. You were pretty sure you didn't spawn a child in your time in Twisted Wonderland. The only thing coming close to a child you took care of was your ever-hungry cat-weasel companion. Certainly not a real breathing kid.

Despite your inexperience with children, you could tell that explaining to this traumatized, and very much powerful little boy, that you can't be his mother, wasn't a smart idea. So you just told yourself that he just called every woman 'mother'. That's something children do, right?

You patted the boys back in hopes his crushing grip on you would loosen at least a little. "There, there. Everything is fine."

Well, actually, nothing was fine, but you also needed the reassurance of your own words.

You gently pried his arms away enough to kneel down in front of him. "Can you tell me what happened here?"

"Everything was different and strange. Not like home. I was here, and there were so many people and-" His words were interrupted by a wrenching sob. "I was scared, and I didn’t mean to! I just wanted you, but-b-but you weren’t there, and then everyone started running and they yelled at me, and, and-"

As the coldness in the air heightens again, you rub the boy's shoulders gently, despite feeling slightly panicked that he might freeze the entire school. "It's fine. It's fine. You were just scared. No one will get angry with you," you smiled at him. "Do you maybe know a way to fix this?"

He shook his head. "No. Father always does."

"Well, it's not that important anyway. The Headmage will figure something out... Probably," you say when you saw his face twisting with guilt. Although you could feel the stare of a frozen student nearby, who definitely does not agree with you.

The boy nodded at your words.

You paused. You didn’t even know his name. Just calling him 'boy' is certainly weird. "Say, do you remember your name?"

He looked at you in silence before suddenly beginning to cry again, leaving you very confused. "Why are you acting like you don’t know me? I don’t like this game!"

Someone seemed to be sensitive. While you had no experiments with children, Grim certainly taught you how to deal with sudden mood swings and tantrums. Although using tuna as a distraction probably won't work.

"But how can I be sure you are the real you and not a spy, if you won't tell me the right answer?" you replied playfully, poking his stomach. "So? What's your name?"

He giggled when you poked him and stopped crying. "You are being silly, Mother," he said. "My name is Maledor, of course!"

You nodded, as if you knew that as well. Hoping that he didn't turn the tables on you to test you, and said the wrong name. But certainly a child wouldn't do that, right?

"Aha! Maledor. That’s a perfectly real name. You’re clear. No spy here."

You think about what you should do next. Seeing that no help or rescue had come in all this time, you could assume that none of the students who got away actually told the staff. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. After all, this was a school full of self-centered and mischievous students.

You couldn’t leave Maledor alone. And you had little faith that going to Crowley for help would do anything. He would end up dumping the work on you anyway, so you might as well search for a solution on your own, before Ramshackle gets a new member. 

By Maledor's pointy ears and little horns, it wasn’t hard to tell that he must be a fae. So, going to Diasomnia is probably the best course of action. Maybe someone there knew who this little boy belonged to. And maybe Malleus or Lilia can defreeze the cafeteria. 

You took Maledor by the hand as you led him to the Diasomnia Dorm. Every so often, his grip would tighten, like he was making sure you wouldn’t suddenly disappear. As soon as you went through the mirror and arrived on the bridge that led to the castle, which was the dorm, you could feel Maledor visibly relaxing.

"This is better! I like it here. It looks like home," he said with a cheerful voice. Seemed like you did good by bringing him here. 

Right when you were about to enter the dorm, Sebek suddenly crossed your path. His sharp eyes fell upon Maledor. "Human! Why do you have a fae child with you?!" he demanded. Then somehow jumped to: "Have you kidnapped him?! Hand over the child at once!"

"When do you think I kidnapped a magical fae child, from its magical parents?" you shot back. "Do you think I walked to Briar Valley and back in an afternoon?"

Sebek didn’t listen to your words to hung up on the idea that you kidnapped a child. Like that wasn’t something faes usually did to humans, right?

"I said hand over the child!" he shouted, before trying to grab Maledor.

You didn’t know why, but a sudden protective streak came over you, and you stepped in front of Maledor, blocking Sebeks' hand. "Don’t just grab a child!"

Sebek recoiled, shock flickering across his face at your boldness. "Are you impeding one of Lord Malleus' loyal knights, human?"

Sebek tried to grab Maledor again, not listening to you. Maledor, on the other hand, obviously did not want to be grabbed by Sebek and was hiding further behind you, grabbing your jacket. "Mother, I don’t want to go…!"

When Maledor said that, Sebek paused. "M-Mother..?" he repeated, shocked. For a second, you think Sebek might actually let you explain the situation, but he immediately began shouting again. "How dare you steal away a fae child and then confuse it so much?! What wicked human trickery have you used?!"

You grit your teeth, trying hard not to let Sebek's ear-splitting accusations break your patience or your eardrums. "I didn’t do anything to him! And can you not yell? You’re scaring him."  You glance at Maledor, who is now peeking nervously from behind your leg, clutching your jacket tightly. 

Sebek falters only a split-second before putting himself between you and the entryway. This standoff would be comical if it weren’t so tense. "I will not allow a potential kidnapper entrance to Prince Malleus’s domain!"

"Look, I didn’t kidnap anyone," you said. "He appeared in the cafeteria, scared, and accidentally froze half the room. I thought someone in Diasomnia might recognize him or help fix the mess."

Sebek’s eyes darted from you to Maledor and back. "You expect me to take the word of a human? Of Night Raven’s resident troublemaker?"

Sebek's next rant was kept short when suddenly Lilia appeared swinging between the two of you. You screamed. Then Sebek screamed. And Maledor giggled. 

Lilia landed lightly between you and Sebek, his eyes glinting mischievously as always, although there was a subtle alertness there. "My, my. Such excitement at the gates! Am I crashing a secret meeting?" he laughed.

You tried to catch your breath. How did Lilia always manage to appear exactly when you least expected it? "Lilia! Don’t sneak up like that," you gasped, half-laughing but mostly frazzled.

Sebek, who was embarrassed for also screaming, now tried to act as if he didn’t. "L-Lilia! The Prefect has procured a fae child and refuses to answer for it!"

"Oh? My, what an adorable little visitor we have…" Lilia said, studying Maledor’s face with recognition. He seemed to be delighted by Maledor. 

"Uncle Lilia!" Maledor said, before coming out from behind you. 

"Uncle?" you repeated, flabbergasted as you watched Maledor and Lilia interact as if they were long-lost family. "Do you know Maledor, Lilia?"

Lilia’s smile widened, a spark of mischief glittering in his eyes as he knelt down to Maledor’s level. "Of course I know this one," he said. "It’s been some time since we’ve had such a precious visitor from, shall we say, afar."

Maledor’s worry seemed to melt under Lilia’s reassurance. "Uncle Lilia, where’s Father?" he sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. "Everything’s scary and cold."

You blinked, looking between the two of them, feeling very much like you’d accidentally walked into someone else’s family reunion in the middle of things. "Wait, you really do know him?" you asked Lilia, carefully keeping your voice level. 

Meanwhile, Sebek had gone uncharacteristically quiet, torn between his usual outrage and a suspicion that something much bigger than an abduction was happening.

Lilia stood up. His gaze softened as he addressed Maledor. "Don’t worry, Maledor. Your father is very busy today, as are all great kings-in-training. Why don’t you stay with your-" Lilia’s eyes danced over to you, and the corners of his mouth twitched as if privately amused by some secret. "beloved caretaker for now? I’m sure they’ll keep you safe."

Sebek straightened, suspicion not quite dispelled. "Are you certain, Sir, that the Prefect has not enchanted this child into believing-"

"Sebek," Lilia interjected. "Surely you would not accuse our dear Prefect of such underhanded magic?"

Sebek’s mouth opened and closed, before he replied. "I…I would never dare suggest you are incapable of seeing through such tricks, Sir! But this situation is most unusual. We must consider the safety of Prince Malleus. And yet the Prefect is still refusing to offer a proper explanation!"

Sebek puffed out his chest but glanced uneasily at Maledor, who peeked from behind you, still clutching your jacket. Despite his horns and emerald eyes, Maledor looked anything but menacing. Nevertheless, Sebek clung to the role of vigilant sentinel.

You took a deep breath, trying not to get annoyed. "I already told you that I found Maledor in the cafeteria, scared and alone. I don’t know anything else. And anyway, if he were out to get Malleus, freezing the cafeteria wouldn’t exactly be subtle, right? And who would send a child in the first place?"

Sebek seemed ready to continue his barrage of suspicions, but Lilia only chuckled. He bent down, gently patting Maledor’s shoulder while casting a reassuring glance your way. "I think what we all need right now is some warmth and a calm mind. The hallway is no place for important discussions or guests. Why not bring our little visitor and the prefect inside? Come, let’s have tea. We can sort out facts and fancies over something sweet, hm?"

Maledor’s eyes brightened at the mention of sweets. He nodded, tugging lightly at your sleeve as if afraid you’d vanish again. 

All of you headed inside. When Lilia offered to brew the tea and bring some sweets, you immediately volunteered to do it instead. After all, the first rule to surviving a visit to Diasomnia was: Never eat or drink something Lilia made. 

"I’ll handle the tea," you say quickly before Lilia’s hand can get anywhere near the kettle. Your voice is a bit brighter than usual, and you offer a smile to Lilia that’s ninety percent nerves and ten percent sincere gratitude.

"Oh, are you sure? I was hoping to try a new blend…" Lilia said.

"I insist," you reply, perhaps more quickly than you mean to. "It’s the least I can do after all the chaos."

After returning to the lounge room with the tea and sweets, you all sit down. Maledor is quick to take a seat beside you, while Lilia has to urge Sebek to sit down as well instead of standing guard by the windows. 

Steam rose from the cups you carefully poured. Maledor watched you, swinging his little feet under the chair, his misery momentarily forgotten in anticipation of sweets.

As you sit down as well, Maledor asked. "Can I take a cookie, Mother?"

The repeated use of the title 'mother' still caught you off guard every time, as did Maledor asking you if he was allowed to eat a cookie. You nodded eventually. "Yeah, sure."

Maledor’s face lit up as you granted him permission. He snatched a cookie with both hands and promptly stuffed half of it into his mouth, crumbs dotting his cheeks as he beamed triumphantly.

"Say, Maledor," Lilia began, tone filled with curiosity. "it must have been quite an adventure to find yourself here, hm? Do you remember anything? Anything at all about how you arrived at the cafeteria, or where you were before?"

Maledor looked down, chewing his cookie with squirrel-like intensity. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he swung his legs and frowned in concentration. "I… I was in the castle. Not this one… my home. Father was teaching me magic because I wanted to be big! Like him. And then…There was this bright green light, all swirly. It was so pretty, but it got really loud and windy. I called for you." he looked up at you. "But I couldn’t find you or Father, and then I was here. It was scary. I didn’t like it. I just wanted to go home."

You picked up a napkin when you saw that Maledor had finished eating. You cleaned his chocolate-covered fingers and mouth. To which Maledor reacted with a 'Thank you, mother,' after you were done. 

Sebek, in the meantime, asked. "Who is your father? Can you say his name?"

Maledor brightened, as if relieved to be asked something simple. "My Father is Malleus! Malleus Draconia."

You barely had time to process Maledor’s answer before the tea caught in your throat, a cough sputtering out of you in disbelief. You blinked hard, as if somehow the world would flicker and correct itself. Instead, the bright-eyed boy just looked up at you, awaiting your response with absolute trust.

Lilia’s eyes sparkled with a private, knowing delight, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the chaos unfold with all the satisfaction of someone who had seen the punchline coming a mile away.

Sebek, on the other hand, was completely stunned. The rigid guard posture dissolved into total shock. His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut in a series of fishlike gasps. He gripped his teacup so tightly it threatened to snap in half. He blinked, then searched Maledor’s face. His gaze darted between the delicate, unmistakable horns and those deep, green eyes. For a second, you wondered if Sebek was about to faint. "Malleus… Draconia?" he finally choked out. "Impossible! The Young Master has no offspring! There must be a mistake. Some… imposter trickery!"

"Wait, wait," you managed, gesturing rapidly between Maledor and Sebek. "Hold on, Maledor. You said your father is Malleus Draconia. You mean, the Malleus? Diasomnia’s Malleus? Tall, horns, kind of brooding, makes storms when he’s in a mood: Malleus?"

Maledor blinked up at you. His head cocked with innocent confusion, as if he couldn’t comprehend why you were asking something so obvious. "Of course, Father is Malleus Draconia!" he said, the words sounding so simple, so certain, as if you’d just asked him whether he liked cookies. "You know that, Mother… Why are you pretending?"

You sat, frozen in your seat, Maledor’s certainty striking through you more powerfully than any ice he could have summoned. Your brain scrambled wildly for any logical explanation. Was this a trick? A dream? Did the world flip upside down when you weren’t looking?

"IMPOSSIBLE!" Sebek barked, jumping up so quickly his chair almost fell. "You must be mistaken! The Young Master does not have, could not have, a child without telling his loyal knights!" He pointed a finger at you. "And you, Prefect! What have you done to this child?!"

"I swear, I’m not lying!" you answered, finally finding your voice. "I didn’t do anything to Maledor. He called me mother from the start. Before I even knew his name!"

Sebek, torn between devotion and confusion, snapped. "This cannot be! The Young Master would never keep such secrets. And…" His mind worked frantically. "The time makes no sense! My Liege and the Prefect… you… are not even married!"

You flushed, mortified and indignant. "Excuse you! We’re not anything." You glanced at Maledor, lowering your voice. "Not like that. Just friends, really."

Lilia clapped his hands softly, his voice clear and sure in the commotion. "No need for dramatics. You know, Sebek, sometimes the wind brings secrets from times yet to come. Briar Valley holds many old mysteries, does it not?"

Sebek bristled, trying to regain composure. "Sir Lilia, with all respect, how can we trust-"

Lilia cut him off with a gentle but authoritative voice. "Sebek, look at the child." Lilia turned to Maledor. "You were frightened, weren’t you? Do you remember any enchantments or trickery? Did anyone put strange ideas in your head?"

Maledor shook his head. "No. I just wanted Mother. And Father." He glanced sidewise at you, hope flickering in his green eyes. "I’m not lying. I promise."

Lilia patted his shoulder. "Of course you’re not. Sometimes things happen that even us grown-ups do not immediately understand. Time, magic, fate. I think our little prince here is simply… lost between stories."

"But what does that mean, Lilia?" you asked for clarification, not being able to wrap your head around this situation. "Is Maledor truly Malleus... And my…" You didn't finish your sentence with 'child'. It just sounded too weird. 

"Sometimes, the river of time chooses curious eddies," Lilia mused with a gentle smile. "A leaf from tomorrow might find itself drifting among the branches of today. If it’s not a trick, not a spell, and not a child’s tale, perhaps we must accept that sometimes, the world permits a riddle to live before its answer."

You stared, mouth poised between laughter and a plea for sanity. "Are you saying… he’s from the future?" The words felt ridiculous as they left your lips.

Lilia shrugged lightly. "Magic has never cared much for clocks or calendars. Wouldn’t be the first time something important arrived a little ahead of schedule."

While you were still trying to wrap your head around this, Sebek seemed to accept Lilias' words in a split second.  "My Lieges…" Sebek’s voice faltered, then swelled with fervor. "My Liege's heir! Of course! There can be no other explanation befitting Prince Malleus’s unparalleled greatness! Only Prince Malleus, scion of the glorious Draconia line, could sire such a prodigy! Such strength, such majesty, even at such a young age. Freezing the entire cafeteria! Behold, the testament of our great lord’s power!"

"You are the proof of Prince Malleus’s supremacy. Even time itself cannot contain his legacy!" he gushed. "A scion born of unmatched power and noble heritage! To think, I am in the presence of my Liege's heir -his magnificent progeny!"

"Forgive me, young prince!" He dropped to one knee before Maledor, completely ignoring you now, and offered a bow so deep it was a miracle he didn’t hit his head on the floor. "Forgive me for doubting your identity for even a second. I, Sebek Zigvolt, am at your service, just like I am at your glorious father's service!"

Sebek’s 180-degree turn gave you mental whiplash. Two minutes ago, he was about to lock you up for kidnapping a child. And now he was praising Maledor as if he was the second coming of Jesus. And anyway, where was your praise? After all, if Maledor was yours and Malleus's child, you had also contributed half to this cute little boy.

No, on a second thought, you'd rather not be the subject of Sebek’s loud and lavish praise. You were still in denial about all of this. Honestly, you were just surprised by Sebek’s sudden turn. Like, wasn’t he super concerned that Malleus and you weren’t even married a second ago? As if Sebek thinks children could only be conceived if their parents really love each other and wish for one. He was so innocent. 

"This must be announced at once! The other knights deserve to weep at this glory. Everyone in Diasomnia needs to know. No, the entire College must know. Briar Valley must be informed. And the Young Master!"

Sebek’s words left you even more mortified than the entire situation already did. You are vaguely wishing the frosted cafeteria had swallowed you whole. You couldn’t face Malleus right now. What were you supposed to say? You rather die than face that embarrassment. 

"No! We can’t tell anyone! Especially not Malleus," you interrupted in a voice that could rival Sebeks, before clearing your throat and continuing in a normal voice. "What I mean is, how are we going to explain this? Like, no one is going to believe that a child just showed up from the future, right? They will think Malleus had a secret love child or something."

"I can’t keep the Young Master in the dark about his own flesh and blood. It is my knightly duty to inform him about everything that is happening in his absence!"

Sebek, as always, did not listen, and Lilia was just enjoying the drama for now. In a burst of desperation, you grabbed a cupcake and threw it across the table at Sebek. He stood there, utterly stunned. A thick glob of icing clung to his cheek and crumbs slided down his jacket. He blinked, still processing your audacious cupcake attack. Meanwhile, Maledor, not understanding anything, laughed at that.

"Seems like you can’t go to Malleus now. You wouldn’t stand before your Liege covered in icing, right?" you said, trying to buy time.

"H-How dare you assault one of Prince Malleus’s loyal knights with pastries, human!" he barked. 

The feeling that you brought the situation under control immediately vanished when the door opened. There, calmly and tall, stood the regal figure of Malleus, as if the universe liked seeing your misery. Those sharp green eyes found you immediately and lingered for a breath before shifting to Maledor.

"Father!" Maledor’s cry rang bright and clear. His little legs scrambed down from the chair. He rushed to Malleus with unerring speed, arms stretched wide open.

Malleus knelt smoothly. His regal composure melting enough to open his arms and receive the child -his child- into a gentle embrace. "So it was you I sensed. A presence so like my own, yet unlike any I have felt before."

Heat flooded your face as the initial shock passed. Your first instinct was to bolt from sheer embarrassment. Somehow, you managed to find your voice. "You’re not surprised, Malleus?"

"Surprised?" he repeated "No, not at all. I recognized the resonance of my own magic the moment Maledor appeared." He regarded you calmly. "You seem greatly unsettled. Is it so shocking to you?"

"I mean, yeah! Everyone would be shocked," you replied honestly.

"You truly cannot feel it?" Malleus asekd. "Even now, the air shimmers with our blood intertwined. A melody only you and I could create."

You thought about his words for a moment. Putting it like that, you suppose you did feel something. Although definitely not as clear as Malleus did. "Still, shouldn’t we be more concerned?"

"Concern is natural. But you underestimate the strength of the Draconia blood. And your own as well. Our child would never be so easily lost to time without reason. He will return," Malleus said, voice absolute. "The magic that called him here is already unraveling."

"So the problem will fix itself?" you question. That sounded like better circumstances than most problems you have run into in Twisted Wonderland. "Everything will go back to normal soon?"

Malleus nodded. "Yes. This visit, while precious, is unintended. The magic that summoned him here is unstable and will not last much longer. The world has its ways of correcting itself."

Some of the tension in your chest loosened at his certainty.

Lilia, barely restraining a wide grin, chimed in. "It seems time itself favors your union, hmm?"

Your face went hot again, just as your flustered heart was about to calm down a little. "Y-You can’t just say something like that out of nowhere…!" you stuttered. Your voice sounded more like a nervous squeak. 

"But it's a wonderful thing, isn't it?" Lilia replied. Beneath his light tone, you could sense the sincerity in his eyes. Like a guardian who is relieved to see his forsterling in good hands. 

Malleus regarded Lilia for a moment, then turned back to you, his emerald gaze gentle but searching. "Does it trouble you?" he asked. "If such a future would come to pass would it be so unwelcome?"

Despite your flustered state it didn’t take long for you to shook your head. "No… It wouldn't be unwelcome."

Maledor, oblivious to the tension and simply happy to be near both his parents, studied your face. He shuffled over from Malleus’s embrace and returned to your side, hugging you tightly enough to drive the air from your lungs. "Your face is all red, Mother! When Sebek gets red he gets loud. When Mother gets red she gets quiet," he commented, which made you only more flustered. "I think ice cream makes everything better. Can we eat ice cream?"

You softly pinch Maledor's cheek. "I think someone already had enough sugar for a day with all the cookies and cupcakes."

Maledor’s smile faltered for half a second, his wide eyes shimmering with a betrayed kind of innocence that only a child could muster. Then, with all the cunning of someone who’d clearly inherited far too much of Malleus’s intelligence and dramatic tendencies, he turned slowly toward his father.

Malleus tilted his head. His expression was calm and unreadable. Maledor’s lip trembled just enough to be convincing. "Father..." he began, voice so heart-wrenchingly sweet it could’ve earned him ten free sundaes anywhere in Twisted Wonderland. "Mother said no to ice cream."

The underlying message was clear: Mother rejected me. Only you can right this cruel injustice, Father.

"A most tragic betrayal," Malleus said solemnly. "To be denied joy by one’s own mother. This is indeed a grievous matter."

"Are you siding with him?" you asked, eyes darting from dragon fae to dragon fae. "He’s a little sugar gremlin who just weaponized his cuteness!"

"I am merely acknowledging his diplomatic tact," Malleus replied with a perfectly neutral expression, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. He patted Maledor’s hair, then gently guided him back to your side. "A future prince must know how to plead his case with grace and strategic flair."

"Don’t encourage him," you grumbled, though your lips tugged up in spite of yourself. This entire situation defied logic and physics, maybe even sanity, but somehow... it wasn't as terrifying as it first seemed, not with the way Malleus stood beside you like an unwavering anchor in a storm, and how Maledor leaned against you like he had always belonged there.

"He encourages me," Maledor beamed up at his father.

"I do," Malleus agreed without hesitation.

"I manipulate Mother."

"You do," Malleus affirmed with serene approval.

"You are literally both saying the scheme out loud while I’m right here!" you pointed out. "You’re not supposed to straight-up say it’s manipulation!"

"Don’t worry, Father. Mother always forgives you when you hug her from behind. You do that a lot in the future," Maledor said to comfort Malleus after seeing your grumpy reaction.

Your soul nearly left your body.

Malleus blinked. Then turned to look at you intensely.

You snapped your head toward the child in horror. "Maledor!"

"What?" he asked, blinking up at you with wide, guileless eyes. "It’s true. When you get all ‘grumpy-grumbly’ and tell Father to leave you alone, Father just hugs you from behind, really slow and gentle, and you get all red and mutter something like, 'You know I can’t stay mad at you.'"

"Slow and gentle, you say," Malleus repeated. His expression was thoughtful, as if he was memorizing every word Maledor said. "Hmm. So gentle physical affection dissolves your irritation. I will need to remember that approach."

"That is not the takeaway here!" you interrupted.

"I am merely collecting useful knowledge of what pleases my future consort," Malleus responded smoothly. With almost academic intrigue. "Maledor’s insights are quite enlightening."

Sebek’s complexion was caught somewhere between ghostly pale and tomato red. "Y-Young Prince! This is hardly appropriate information to share in a public setting!"

Maledor blinked at Sebek, completely unbothered. "But Sebek, you said it’s a knight’s duty to speak the truth and uphold honor. I’m just being helpful."

"Yes, but there are degrees of helpfulness...! Some truths are best kept private, especially when discussing the... the subtle... the-" Sebek finally broke eye contact and wheezed, "hugging techniques."

"I agree! We should just stop talking about this," you agreed, hoping the embarrassment would be over now, but then something came to your mind. "No, wait. It is only fair if you also share embarrassing things about Malle- Eh, your Father, Maledor."

Sebek, still recovering from the previous exchange, audibly gasped. "Y-young prince! The Young Master is above embarrassment!"

"No, he’s not," you said flatly.

"Well, Mother says it’s fair," Maledor chirped. "So. When you’re not around, Father gets really weird."

"Weird?" Malleus repeated. His tone remained level, but one graceful brow arched inquisitively.

"Mhmm. Sometimes he just stands in the hallway. Just... standing. Staring out a window. All dramatic and sad," Maledor said before adding brightly. "Oh, and when you come back, even if it’s just from the bathroom, he teleports to your side and says 'Ah, as I suspected, the world only feels whole in your presence again.'"

Malleus remained unshaken, which somehow made it worse. "There is no shame in expressing adoration," he said. "Is it so strange, to long for the presence of the one who stirs your soul?"

Somehow, your idea backfired on you. Not only was Malleus not the least bothered by Maledor's revelations, you are even more flustered now. You didn’t even know what to say, but thankfully Maledor filled the silence again. 

"And one time. Mother kissed Father’s cheek right before a council meeting, and he smiled the whole time. The old scary ministers freaked out and thought Father was about to declare war because he never smiles like that during council."

"Alright, that's enough glimpses into the future!" you interrupted hastily, cutting off any further soul-exposing anecdotes. "Didn’t you say you wanted ice cream, Maledor?"

"Yes, ice cream!" Maledor shouted excitedly. 

"If it pleases the young prince, I shall fetch the finest ice cream the college kitchens offer," Sebek declared utterly serious, though his face was still visibly red from the "inappropriate" things Maledor revealed. 

Lilia, who looked like he was thriving in this chaos, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. "This might be the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in a hundred years. And I fought a manticore while wearing a tutu once."

"...Why?" you couldn’t help asking.

"There was a wager. Long story." He winked.

You just accepted what Lilia said without further questions. In a room together with your future child, that just appeared out of thin air, Lilia might still be the biggest enigma. 

You all find your seats at the table again. It didn’t take long for Sebek to arrive with the ice cream. Maledor’s eyes sparkled as he eyed the huge bowl full of brightly-colored ice cream that you placed in front of him. Despite his eagerness, he still waited quietly until you gave him permission to begin eating. Seated beside him, Malleus also seemed to enjoy his bowl of ice cream with quiet contentment. You had the suspicion that he also wanted one from the beginning. 

As you also began eating your ice cream, you began to really process what was happening. Does this encounter mean that your future was now predestined? Does this mean you will stay in Twisted Wonderland and never find a way back home to your world? Will you become the consort of one of the most powerful mages in the whole world, reigning beside him? They were all worthy, existential questions, but one in particular rose above the rest in your mind. 

"Wait. Isn’t it a thing that dragon faes hatch from eggs? So… does that mean I'm going to lay an egg someday? Or is this a seahorse type of situation, and Malleus will lay the egg?"

The room was silent for a moment, but before anyone could answer that very crucial question, Sebek raised his voice. "Seahorse? How dare you compare the Great Malleus Draconia with an unremarkable creature such as a seahorse?!"

While a new round of chaos broke out on the table, Silver probably just woke up wondering why Sebek never came to wake him up for his guard duty. And the frozen students are till waiting for help.

[kaechannn]

What is Wrong with being a little Bad? || Savanaclaw

SUMMARY: After a potion incident caused by your three disaster-prone friends, you're now stuck with an accidental villain arc.

WARNINGS: evil!reader

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

PARTS: Prologue | Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

You couldn't help but giggle softly as you once more outsmarted Ace, Deuce, and Grim. Sadly, for now, you had to put off convincing Riddle to actually execute people. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going when you suddenly found yourself in the botanical garden. You followed the path when it was suddenly blocked off by Leona, who was sleeping right in the middle of your way. You could walk around him by stepping on the grass, but that was beneath you.  Obviously, Leona should have foreseen your arrival and chosen a more considerate napping spot.

You closed in on the sleeping Housewarden of Savanclaw and nudged his arm with your foot. "Move out of the way, Leona."

Leona didn’t stir at first. Typical. He always acted like the world owed him naps and no one had the right to disturb his precious sunbathing. You pressed your heel into his arm a little harder. "I said, move."

Leona’s brow twitched, but he still didn’t open his eyes.

You ground your heel in with a smirk. "Don’t make me repeat myself again."

Slowly, Leona’s eyes opened, narrowed by glaring sunlight and growing irritation. "Tch… You’ve got some nerve, herbivore," he said. His voice was thick with sleep and faint contempt. "Didn’t anyone teach you not to poke a sleeping lion?"

You leaned down slightly, a shadow falling over your face. "Didn’t anyone teach you not to get in the way of your future sovereign?"

That got his attention.

Leona raised an eyebrow and finally pushed himself halfway up. Gone were your usual flustered expressions, the polite deflections, and wary glances. No, this version of you held yourself like royalty. Mocking, cruel, and filled with simmering amusement. His eyes flicked over your face as realization slowly dawned that something was off.

"Did you hit your head or something?"

You let out an ‘hmph’ at this question, before raising your chin with regal flair. "Do I look like I am walking into trees or something?"

"Yes," Leona answered without hesitation. 

You move your foot to kick him now, but despite the fact that Leona was sleeping just a second ago, his reflexes didn’t lessen. He caught your foot mid-swing.

Leona’s grip was firm. You could feel the power curled into his fingers as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The lazy smirk tugging at his lips was just short of taunting.

"Bad move," he said lowly. "Trying to kick a lion usually ends poorly for the idiot doing the kicking." He let out a yawn and stretched even as he held you caught. His sharp eyes never left your face.

You tried to pull your ankle out of his grip. "First you block my way, now you grab my foot? Let go, Leona!"

"And here I thought you were all bark," Leona said, not letting go of you. "What got into you, huh? Lost a bet? Drank something stupid?" His sharp eyes narrowed, watching you with intense focus now, curiosity sharpening into suspicion. "You don’t smell cursed…"

You finally jerked your leg free. You stepped back. "Don’t just sniff me, you creep!"

"Creep?" Leona repeated. "For someone so high and mighty, you sure like flinging around childish insults."

You scoffed, brushing off the front of your uniform like his mere presence had sullied it. The disdain in your expression was purposeful. "You’ve always looked better at my feet, Leona. It’s a shame your tongue isn’t half as sharp as your instincts. You might be useful then."

"Cute act you’re putting on. Too bad I don’t play fetch," Leona said before getting comfortable again, and closing his eyes. 

You stare at him angrily for a few seconds, before deciding a stubborn lion deserved the stick treatment. So you walk away in hopes of finding one in the botanical garden. But instead you found something much better. There on the wall was the garden hose. Cats love playing with water, don’t they? You thought as an evil little smirk found its way on your lips. 

With the end of the garden hose in hand, you return to Leona. Leona recognized it was you by the sound of your steps. He didn’t bother to look at you. "Back again? Did you begin to miss me already? Or just the sound of your own voice?"

"I suggest you move out of my way now."

By the tone of your voice, Leona could tell that you were planning something. He lazily opened one eye, before snapping both of them open when he saw the garden hose directed at him. "Don’t even think-!"

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. "Too late," you said before lifting your food from the hose. You had already turned the water on and used your foot to stop it. Now that your foot was gone, the water came out in an instant, comply soaking Leona, who was clearly caught off guard that you were actually going through with this. 

When he tried to jump away like a startled kitty, you followed his movement with the garden hose. 

"You little-!" His voice was rich with fury. He looked like a lion now. Really looked like one. Not lazy and lounging, but hunted, humiliated, and very, very ready to bite.

"Aww, poor Leona," you sang mockingly. "You should have gone out off my way when you still had the chance."

He took a slow step forward.

"You’ve got five seconds to drop that hose, herbivore," he said. His soaked shirt clung to his lean frame, muscles tensing beneath the fabric. "Five. That’s generous."

You didn’t drop it. In fact, you aimed a little higher, blasting him in the face.

"That was for calling me a herbivore," you said sweetly, the grin on your lips practically made from malice. "I'm carnivorous now."

"You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that," he growled. His voice now a sharp contrast to his earlier laziness. "But you really don’t know who you’re playing with."

You took a defiant step back, hose still in hand. "Oh, I know exactly who I’m playing with. A prince who naps in flower beds and sulks over sibling envy. Tell me, Leona. Have you ever actually won anything without cheating or throwing a fit?"

That did it. In one swift motion, before you could blink, he was gone.

His speed was stunning, faster than you’d ever seen him move before. You let out a startled gasp, but it wasn't from fear, but from thrill. The game had escalated. Leona was behind you. He reached around you and grabbed the hose, twisting it so the icy water splashed straight into your face. 

You sputtered as cold water hit your face. You were momentarily stunned by the abrupt reversal. The hose slipped from your grip as you instinctively raised your arms, shrieking in righteous outrage. Leona’s chuckle grazed your ears as he catched the hose and kept the stream going a moment longer. Just to prove a point.

"You were saying?" he said mockingly, his voice now laced with satisfaction.

The water finally cut off with a firm twist of the faucet knob. Leona moved with the speed and precision of a predator who’d been more than adequately provoked.

You stood there, soaked from head to toe, hair clinging to your forehead, uniform sagging with weight. Before you could scream at the smug Housewarden, you were cut of by a cheerful voice entering the botanical garden. "Leona, wake up! There is-"

It was Ruggie who came around the corner. He cut off his sentence when his eyes landed on the scene in front of him. Both you and Leona were completely drenched in water, and the water hose was lying on the ground. 

 "…Did I miss a pool party or something?" Ruggie finally said, pawing awkwardly at the back of his neck.

Leona let out a sigh and turned his head toward Ruggie. His was voice dry as sand. "No, herbivore here got bored and decided to start a war."

You, still dripping and seething but refusing to show even a hint of defeat, crossed your arms and raised your chin defiantly. "I was merely doing some gardening. The pest problem got a little… bitey."

"Right," Ruggie muttered. "I’m gonna assume this isn't some weird foreplay- whoa hey!" He ducked just in time as you, in a wonderfully petty display of villainy, lobbed the sopping hose at him. It hit the ground with a splat, spraying residual water.

"Watch your tongue," you said warningly. 

Ruggie shakes off the few droplets that had splashed his way. "Okay, okay, sheesh. Message received. Someone’s got a mood today."

Leona rubbed the back of his neck, glaring at you from under dripping bangs. "Mood’s one word for it." His eyes narrowed again, this time not with anger, but calculation. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just you being cheeky. Something about your posture, your voice, the gleam in your eye wasn't like usual. 

"Unlike some people, I don’t rot under the sun like an unwatered shrub. Some of us have ambition," you said.

A new voice echoed through the garden. Jack entered. "Ruggie? Did you find Leona?" Like Ruggie before him, Jack looked at you and Leona in confusion. "What happened? Why are Leona and the Prefect soaked in water?"

Ruggie held up both hands in defense. "Don’t look at me. I just got here." He eyed you warily, keeping a safe distance in case you decided to weaponize another garden tool.

"Leona was in my way. I simply removed the obstacle," you said, before you turned on your heel with a dramatic whip of your soaked hair, spraying droplets in a wide arc. "And now I have wasted enough time on this. I will take my leave."

TAGLIST: @chloemari-e @cupid73 @ddurandals @ceces-works @lucky-whispers @daeda21 @kikiarara @c0ralrubi @runu-chan @charming-mage @kittycat246 @sparklybasementcherryblossom @kiarst @abell2029cluster

[kaechannn]

What is Wrong with being a little Bad? || Heartslabyul

SUMMARY: After a potion incident caused by your three disaster-prone friends, you're now stuck with an accidental villain arc.

WARNINGS: evil!reader

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

PARTS: Prologue | Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

After you had left your minions with Crowley, you were now on your way to the cafeteria. Of course, you already had the perfect idea for taking over Sage Island, but first, you needed something to eat. After all, no wicked mastermind was able to scheme with an empty stomach.

Perhaps you should also use this opportunity to look and listen for better henchmen. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were clearly insufficient.

Your path was suddenly cut off as Cater and Trey came around the corner.

"Yahoo, are you also heading to the cafeteria?" Cater asked in a cheerful voice.

You nodded briefly in response before Trey looked behind you. "Oh, are you out by yourself?" he asked, “Where are Ace and Deuce?”

"Right. You three are usually always together," Cater commented.

You couldn't help but furrow your brows. You didn't like the fact that apparently it was your reputation that you went everywhere with Ace and Deuce. As if you couldn't function on your own. It was bad for your evil image to be seen with those idiots all the time. You really should find better henchmen very quickly.

You straightened your posture, letting your gaze sweep over the two Heartslabyul students. "I don’t require an entourage to walk down the hallway," you replied coolly, voice laced with a new, imperious edge. "Unlike certain people, I can function perfectly well on my own."

Cater blinked, thrown off by your frosty tone. "Ooh, someone’s feeling extra spicy today! Did you had a fight with Ace and Deuce or something?"

You shoot Cater a sharp look. "Do I look like someone who'd be wasting their time arguing with these idiots? Their incompetence is tiring."

"So it's that bad, huh..." Trey muttered, clearly convinced that you three had a fight, " The Cafeteria must be packed to the brim with hungry students by now. Why don't you come with us to the Heartslabyul Dorm? There are a few tarts I'm not sure which type is the best for the next un-birthday party."

You were thinking about the options you now have. While the cafeteria will have more potential underlings, it will also be harder to find good ones. The Heartslabyul students, on the other hand, love following rules. The chance of finding worthy underlings is much higher there. Although Ace and Deuce, who are also in that dorm, were disappointments, you were willing to try again.

"Very well," you said. "Lead the way. I suppose I can spare a moment to help with your little dilemma."

As you followed Trey and Cater to the Heartylabyul Dorm, you took a closer look at the two of them. Would they be worthy subordinates? But one closer look is enough to make you discard the idea. Trey was a goody two-shoes, and Cater gave you the impression that he's one of those people who can only follow a 30-second Magicam video if there's a random car driving video at the bottom.

As you entered the kitchen, the smell of Trey's freshly baked tarts immediately caught your attention. It didn't take long for Trey to present his baking to you.

You eye the tarts, but your mind is elsewhere. As Trey busies himself with the oven and Cater snaps a quick Magicam photo, you scan the room for potential recruits. But no one besides you three was here at the moment.

Time passed, and you just sat there and, well... ate tarts. This is not how you had imagined the beginning of your villainous reign. But regardless of how you felt about Trey, you couldn't deny that he was an excellent baker. Once you seize control, you should definitely make him your personal baker.

You were halfway done with your current piece of tart when sharp steps could be heard approaching the door of the kitchen. It was opened by no one other than Riddle. His posture was as always incredibly straight, that just seeing it made your back hurt. "Is there a reason for this gathering in the dorm's kitchen?" Riddle asked.

"Riddle, good timing," Trey said, "We were just sampling a few tarts for the next unbirthday party. I thought it might be a good idea to get some outside opinion."

Trey gave Riddle a look before the latter nodded understandingly. "Very well. It is important to ensure only the best is served."

Cater chimed in, "You should totally join us, Riddle! Who better to judge Heartslabyul’s signature treat?"

"Shouldn't we fetch a stepladder then? Otherwise, Riddle won't be able to reach the countertop," you said meanspirited, "The countertop must look like a mountain from your point of view, Riddle."

At your words, Cater failed to suppress a snort. He tried to hide his reaction behind his phone. While Trey's eyes widen in shock. Riddle on the other end clenched his jaw. His lips formed a thin line, and his face flushed red. "I will let you know that men can still grow well within their twenties."

"I am sure that's what you are telling yourself every night," you continued.

"Height is hardly a measure of one’s worth," Riddle said, voice tight but striving for dignity. "Nor does it determine a person’s capability or… suitability."

You arched a brow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "If you say so, Riddle. Though I imagine you’d be more convincing if you weren’t standing on your tiptoes."

You saw how Riddle straightened his back further, as if he might grow a few inches through sheer power of will.

Trey cleared his throat, intervening. "Let’s not get sidetracked," Trey looks at you, "Which tart did you like best?” He slid a plate closer, hoping to distract you from further comments.

You glanced at the tarts, but your attention lingered on Riddle, savoring the discomfort. "I suppose one can never go wrong with strawberry."

"Well, I think all of them are Magicam-worthy, but the prefect's opinion is the one that matters, right, Riddle?" Cater said.

Riddle looks at you before he quickly looks away. "If they approve, then that’s the one we’ll serve."

The kitchen went silent, except for the clinking of forks as you ate. It was Cater who broke the silence first. "This totally calls for a selfie! #tarttesting."

As soon as Cater raised his phone, you gave him a sharp look. "Over my dead body. If you snap a picture, I will break your phone."

Cater yelped, his hand immediately freezing in midair. "Whoa, okay, no selfie. Rule understood," he said, lowering the phone.

As Trey tried to lighten the mood again, you didn't listen to his words. They were probably unimportant. Just like Trey himself. Instead, your eyes narrowed on Riddle, while it was certainly entertaining to make fun of him (just looking at him made you think of countless short people puns) a far more important thought crossed your mind. Maybe Riddle would make for a good underling. He had anger issues., loved rules and would never steal your spotlight. Also, his signature spell was certainly worth discussing.

You interrupted whatever Trey was talking about. "Riddle, your signature spell is really impressive," you said cheerfully, as if you hadn't shattered his self-confidence a few seconds ago.

Your unexpected and sudden praise knocked Riddle a little off balance. For a second, confusion flickered across his features. Then, ever so slightly, he straightened, chest expanding as if his pride had been poured back in with a single, well-chosen compliment. "Well, yes. It is a mark of discipline and mastery. Most students are unable to achieve a spell of that caliber. It is only befitting that I, as the dorm leader of Heartslabyul, have mastered it."

"Certainly," you replied. You rest your chin on your hand as you look at Riddle, "But don't you think it would be more efficient if it actually decapitates its targets, instead of just collaring them?"

Riddle’s eyes widened at your nonchalant suggestion. "That would be barbaric!" he stammered. "The collar is a symbol of order, not… gruesome execution!"

With a smile on your face, you scoot closer to Riddle. "But wouldn't an actual warning be more effective than just a little symbolic gesture?" you leaned in closer, "Imagine all the people who love breaking rules would think twice about ever doing it again. Your signature spell would be so much more impressive."

Riddle may have prided himself on composure, but in this moment, his rigid posture faltered just slightly as you leaned in. Your voice was low and silkily persuasive. Riddle could barely process your words. You were so close that he could feel your breath on his cheek.

For one charged moment, you wondered if he'd actually start entertaining the idea; after all, with enough persuasion, even the proudest rule-maker could become a tool for chaos.

"It’s out of the question!" Riddle managed to say, "The Queen’s rules don’t condone violence for its own sake!"

"Oh, really? Didn't the Queen of Hearts literally decapitate people, though?" you said. "It would be so poetic."

"Perhaps there is some truth to your words..." Riddle muttered eventually.

Cater, who was busy scrolling through his magicam feed, now realized the seriousness of the conversation happening across from him. He edged closer to Trey, whispering to him. "Did the prefect really just suggest that? And does it look only to me like Riddle is considering the idea?"

Trey cleared his throat and slid another tart in front of you, trying to prevent the possibility of the events from the beginning of the year happening again. "How about we focus on constructive feedback for the party? No beheading required," he suggested with a forced smile.

"I think a public execution is required for any good party," you replied, but you were never able to elaborate on the importance of public execution, as the door of the kitchen was forcefully pushed open, revealing your left behind underlings, Deuce, Ace, and Grim. They were completely out of breath. When they saw you in the magicam post Cater uploaded, they immediately came sprinting here.

"Step back from the prefect. Their evil!" Ace shouted while trying to block the door with his arms, so you won't be able to escape again.

Trey raised his hands in a calm gesture. "Now, now, we know you three had a fight, but that's hardly a way to treat someone."

"Are you serious? They are literally evil. Just look!" Ace insisted.

"There was a potion accident that altered the prefect's personality," Deuce quickly explained, looking sincerely anxious.

Ace shoot a bewildered look at Trey and Cater. "How were you guys not able to tell? They are completely different,"

"Oh, I thought it was an image change. No judgment here for trying out new things," Cater commented.

"That explains a lot, actually," Trey said, tone thoughtful as he considered your earlier morbid suggestions.

Riddle, meanwhile, had gone oddly quiet. There was a small, self-satisfied smile playing at the corner of his lips after hearing Ace and Deuces' explanation. He looked almost pleased, relieved in fact, as the realization dawned that perhaps your earlier string of short jokes was not a reflection of your actual feelings, but instead merely the result of your new evil alignment.

Deuce stepped forward. "The potion did something! Prefect, you have to fight it! You can’t just be… well, evil." He looked almost hurt, as if the real crime was your snark, not your nefarious plans.

"Stop being dramatic. I never felt better," you said dismissively, "Why are you even here? I understand that you three are completely lost without my guidance, but I think I have made it clear that I don't require your service any longer. Get lost."

"We’re not going anywhere! You’re not yourself," Deuce said, stepping into your path, blocking any potential escape. "You’re our friend. Even if you don’t remember it right now."

"Yeah!" Grim agreed. He raised his little paws with a determined expression, "And if anything, the Great Grim is the boss of this group. Without me, you three would be completely lost."

"You are the one who is getting us into trouble all the time. Just look what your potion caused." Ace interjected, "And clearly I am the boss."

As Ace and Grim were arguing over who was the boss, and Deuce tried to dissolve their bickering so they could all focus on the task at hand again, you seized the opportunity and slipped away again.

Watching as Ace, Deuce, and Grim try to sprint after you, after noticing your disappearance, something came to Cater's mind: "So I guess the moral of the story is that only someone evil would make jokes about short people."

TAGLIST: @chloemari-e @cupid73 @ddurandals @ceces-works @lucky-whispers @daeda21 @kikiarara @c0ralrubi @runu-chan @charming-mage @kittycat246

[kaechannn]

What is Wrong with being a little Bad? || Prologue

SUMMARY: After a potion incident caused by your three disaster-prone friends, you're now stuck with an accidental villain arc.

WARNINGS: none

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

PARTS: Prologue | Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

As usual, the three idiots you called friends had gotten you into trouble. It could have been an ordinary alchemy lesson with Professor Crewel, but Ace just had to make fun of Grim, comparing him to the shriveled gray tuber you were supposed to use for your potion.

Of course, Ace kept provoking Grim until he snapped and tried to burn the tuber. Only to accidentally set a table on fire. Professor Crewel was not pleased, to say the least. So now, as punishment, you, Grim, Ace, and Deuce had to stay after class and finish the potion within the next hour and present it to Professor Crewel. Which was a tough task in itself, even without the troublesome behaviour of your friends.

You were discussing the next step with Deuce when, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Ace trying to silently sneak toward the door.

"Ace!"  you scolded, causing him to freeze mid-step. "Don't even try to sneak off on us, or you will be glued to the cauldron."

"Geez, I wasn't even trying to go anywhere. Just wanted to check if we need anything from the shelf over there," he lied very unconvincingly.

"We already have all the ingredients we need," you reminded him, before practically feeling the mischievous energy emanating from the cat monster somewhere behind you. "Grim. Don't even think about trying anything."

Deuce shook his head, exasperated after witnessing you scold both Ace and Grim. "Seriously, it's the fault of both of you that we are in this situation."

"The Great Grim ain't done anything at all. Everything is Ace's fault!" Grim shot back immediately, puffing out his chest.

“You set a table on fire,” you reminded him.

Grim stomped his little feet in protest, while Ace only snickered. "Only because Ace made fun of me!"

You were about to launch into another lecture about why that was absolutely no excuse to use fire, but Deuce interrupted, his voice suddenly bright with excitement. “Wait—I think I’ve got it!”

Curious, the three of you crowded around the cauldron to see what Deuce had concocted. But something was off. The potion was a watery, reddish color. Nothing like the shimmering blue one Professor Crewel had demonstrated in class.

“The color’s way off,” Ace said, wrinkling his nose. “Even a blind guy could tell.”

After looking at the liquid in the cauldron for a few more seconds, you nodded. "Yeah, I have to agree... It was more blue and had this red shimmer."

"And Crewel's potion was more bubbly," Grim commented, but you had the feeling it wasn't really an observation and more a case of Grim just saying something to sound smart.

Ace shot Deuce a look. “Great job, Deuce. Now we have to start all over.”

"Excuse me? You didn't even do anything."

"Don't start another argument," you said, trying to be the voice of reason in all of this. And also to prevent any more tables from potentially landing in the crossfire. "Let's just try to get this over with."

While the three of you were distracted, Grim saw the perfect opportunity to "fix" your potion. He didn't want to spend hours making a new one, and a talented mage like him could fix this no problem, he thought wrongly.

Grim confidently grabbed a jar filled with bright green liquid and generously poured it into the cauldron. You only noticed what Grim was doing because his actions resulted in a dark green smoke that filled a good chunk of the laboratory in a matter of seconds, shrouding you in a green vision.

You coughed, waving your hand in front of your face, and stumbled blindly toward the window, trying to remember the way. Behind you, Deuce’s voice rang out, muffled by the haze: “Grim, you’re ruining the potion!”

"Don't just randomly mix stuff together," Ace said, followed by a cough, as if he wouldn't do the exact same thing.

You could barely see, but you heard Grim’s triumphant voice: “I’m fixing it! Just wait and see!”

"Stop mixing things!" you called out after hearing what sounded suspiciously like Grim throwing something else into the potion.

You reached the window and opened it, but it wasn't really effective in getting rid of the smoke. The sound of something heavy being dropped into liquid could be heard. The smoke thickened, then, just as suddenly, began to swirl and collapse, sucked back into the cauldron in a single, unnatural breath.

“There! Fixed!” Grim declared, sounding far too pleased with himself.

"You caused the smoke," Deuce retorted, before grabbing Grims' paw, stopping him from making things worse. Grim tried to wiggle free.

"Just stop, Grim," you said as you made your way over to them. But Grim didn't listen to anyone. He thrashed, and in the commotion, the little stepladder he was standing on, so he could reach the cauldron, tipped over. The ladder collided with the cauldron. Grim leapt away just in time, or he would have landed in the potion, but the ladder crashed into the cauldron, sending it toppling toward you.

You, on the other hand, were not so lucky. Instinctively, you tried to catch the stepladder falling your way, which meant you couldn’t get out of the way in time. The cauldron tips to one side completely, spilling its contents onto you.

You gasped in shock as the cold mixture made contact with your skin. Unlike before, it was no longer watery but gloppy, almost rubbery, as it stuck on you and your lab coat. Fortunately, your eyes were spared thanks to the protection of the goggles. You could feel an unpleasant prickling sensation on your skin just as the liquid suddenly evaporated. It was as if you had absorbed it.

Your friends asked you if everything was alright. You wanted to tell them that nothing was wrong. But suddenly, your annoyance about the situation turned into pure anger. "You incompetent fools! You should be skinned alive and eaten by feral animals! Why do I even keep you around?” you snap, barely recognizing your own voice.

Your three friends looked at you with startled faces. They certainly weren't expecting this reaction. Ace was the first to say something. "Ouch, where is that suddenly coming from?"

Deuce tried to help you up from the ground, but you ignored his hand, standing up on your own. "Don't touch me with your unwashed hands."

"I always wash my hands!" Deuce replied immediately, but you weren't interested in his words.

"Are you sure you are fine?", Ace asked, while Grim added, "Yeah, you are acting really weird."

You glared at them. "I was fine until we crossed paths."

Ace exchanged a nervous glance with Deuce, edging away from the cauldron as if whatever had effected you, might spread to him. “Okay, seriously, what was in that potion?” he whispered.

Deuce frowned, studying you with concern. “You don’t look hurt, but… you’re acting all… villainous.”

“We need to tell Professor Crewel,” Deuce said quietly. “Something’s really wrong.”

Ace hesitated. “Are you kidding? If we tell him, we’re doomed for sure! He’ll have us scrubbing cauldrons until graduation.”

“But my hench-human is clearly broken! We can’t leave them like this," Grim protested.

"I didn't say we should leave them like that. You can stop looking at me like that,“ Ace said, ”We shouldn't tell Crewel, we should tell the Headmage."

Even though Ace, Grim and Deuce were whispering among themselves, you could clearly hear every word. "Are you seriously going to the most irresponsible adult on campus with this?" you said, sounding almost offended.

"That's exactly why we should go to the Headmage. Crewel will only punish us more for this. The Headmage on the other hand..." Ace trailed off, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You didn’t need him to finish the sentence; his expression said it all.

At that moment, you realize, with a new, almost sinister clarity, that the three accomplices you had gathered here were perhaps not such a bad choice after all. Ace was devious, Deuce mostly naive, and Grim a cat arsonist. And all three of them were dumb enough to be easily manipulated.

Together with your minions, you were on your way to the Headmage. Not because you listened to Ace's instructions, but simply out of curiosity as to what Ace, Deuce and Grim would screw up next. It's going to be interesting.

You're not necessarily looking forward to seeing the Headmage, though. He was odd in your eyes. You were pretty sure he was still waiting for a Father’s Day gift from you. Even though it's been months. He probably didn't even want it because he saw himself as your father figure, but just to get something free. Which, admittedly, you could respect. But did you look like someone who has the money to give people free stuff? No. You live in a shithole together with ghosts.

You walk down the corridor, the other three trailing behind you in a disorganized cluster. Grim is muttering to himself about “fixing” you with a spell he saw in a comic book, while Deuce keeps glancing at you as if you might sprout horns at any moment. Ace, as usual, is walking around like he owned the place, whistling a tune that’s a little too cheerful for someone responsible for nearly burning down a classroom an hour ago.

You watched as Ace walked past you. For this transgression, you shot him a sharp glare, allowing him to correct his behaviour, but Ace didn't notice or maybe didn't think much of your glare. You couldn’t let that slide without punishment. No one was meant to walk in front of you, as if you weren't the boss of this group.

Ace’s whistling was cut off by a yelp as your hand connected with the back of his head. "Ouch! Why are you slapping me? It was pretty hard too...!"

You smacked him again for daring to question you, making him yelp again and stepping back so you couldn't reach him. "A minion is not supposed to strut in front of their master. Much less is said minion supposed to ask stupid questions after his behaviour has been corrected!"

Ace rubbed the back of his head, grumbling under his breath, but wisely kept his distance. Grim snickered, clearly enjoying Ace’s misfortune, while Deuce shot you a wary look, as if trying to gauge whether he should intervene or just keep his head down and hope for the best.

Eventually you reached Crowleys office. With a dramatic flourish, you pushed open the door, not bothering to knock first.

Crowley looked up from behind his desk, eyes lighting up the moment he saw you barge in with your entourage. He straightened his hat, smoothing his cloak with a hopeful expression.

"Ah! My, my, what a surprise!" he exclaimed, voice dripping with anticipation. "And with all of you here together… Could it be? After all these months, have you finally come to deliver my long-overdue Father’s Day gift?" He clasped his hands together, practically vibrating with excitement.

"No," you replied flat.

The hope in Crowley’s eyes crumbled like a poorly baked soufflé. "No? Oh, the cruelty! The heartbreak! To be denied yet again by my own beloved, nay, most cherished, student!" He sniffled loudly, dabbing at imaginary tears with a handkerchief he seemed to produce from nowhere.

Grim rolled his eyes, looking at you. "He’s even more dramatic than you."

Crowley peeked at you from behind his hand. "Are you certain? Not even a little something? A card? A drawing? Perhaps some heartfelt words of gratitude for your ever-doting paternal figure?"

"Doting paternal figure?" you repeated, "You do nothing but constandly dump your work onto me."

"Delegation is the mark of a great leader. I am simply preparing you for the trials of adulthood. Responsibility, initiative, the crushing weight of expectation!" Crowley answered.

"Don't give me the its building character nonsense."

While you and the Headmage talked, Ace whispered to Deuce; "Should we just leave and come back when they are done?"

"We can’t wait," he whispered back to Ace. His voice was low but urgent. "This is serious."

Deuce glanced nervously between you and Crowley before realizing that someone had to take charge before the conversation spiraled further into melodrama. He cleared his throat, stepping forward with a determined voice. “Um, Headmage Crowley? We actually came here because something weird happened in alchemy class,” Deuce began, "There was… an accident with a potion, and now, uh, the prefect isn’t acting like themselve."

"Oh? An alchemical mishap, you say?" Crowley repeated, stroking his chin. "And what, pray tell, does this have to do with me? Or, more importantly, with my Father’s Day gift?"

Grim groaned. "Forget the stupid gift! The prefect is acting all weird and villain-y!"

Ace snorted. "Looks more like they’re auditioning for a cheesy play."

You glared. "Silence, minion."

Deuce, sensing the situation spiraling, tried again. "Headmage, we think the prefect got hit with a potion that’s changed their personality. We need your help to fix it."

Crowley was thinking silently for a moment before coming to an utterly ridiculous conclusion. "Ah, yes, of course! That is why i have yet to receive my Father's Day gift from you. It makes perfect sense."

"I was never planning to give you anything. Stop bringing it up!" you answered.

Crowley clutched his chest as if your words had physically wounded him. "Are you sure a potion is the cause for this?" he asked, voice cracking with theatrical sorrow. "Has the scheming of the other students perhaps corrupted you this much? That’s not how I raised you!"

You crossed your arms. "Excuse me, you didn’t raise me at all. And I turned out just fine, thank you very much."

The Headmage sighed, shaking his head as if he’d just witnessed the greatest tragedy. "And here I thought my only concern was going to be Draconia, who whisks you away to wed you," he sniffed, dabbing imaginary tears again. "Oh, the worries only a father has."

"You aren’t my father, Headmage," you replied. "I already have one. And what are you talking about anyway?"

"Headmage, please! This isn’t about Father’s Day or… or marriage proposals!" Deuce said his voice firm but respectful, "The prefect was hit by a potion, and now they’re acting completely different. We need to know how to fix it. Before things get worse."

After that Ace, Deuce and Grim explained what had happened in the alchemy lesson with as much detail as possible, but it was hard to say what Grim actually put in the potion. They launched into a chaotic retelling the disaster. Ace was blaming Grim for tampering with the potion, while Grim protested that he was only fixing it. Deuce, meanwhile, tried to keep the story on track, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the bickering.

"Anyway, the potion exploded, and the prefect got covered in it. That’s when they started acting… well, like this." Deuce gestured to the spot where you had been standing.

Except… you weren’t there.

Ace blinked. "Wait. Where’d the prefect go?"

Grim spun around, eyes widening in alarm. "Eh? They were right here! Did they turn invisible? Did the potion do that too?!"

Deuce’s eyes widened in panic. "Did they sneak out while we were talking?"

"You’ve lost the prefect? My most cherished and responsible student? This is a disaster! What if they’re off plotting villainous schemes? What if they’re," Crowley gasped, "buying Father’s Day presents for someone else?"

Ace groaned, rubbing his temples. "Can we please focus? The prefect’s probably just wandering around being… weird. We need to find them before they get into real trouble."

[kaechannn]

oh, he was just your type. tall and handsome, with long brown hair and sharp green eyes. his skin was vibrant and he had this mysterious scar across his eye. and there he was, just standing all nonchalant, leaning against a wall.

now, could you have known he was a prince? no, of course not. you were too busy thinking about how pretty his braids and beads were. you turned around, taking a deep breath to lock in. you needed to walk over and shoot your shot, or you would never be able to fall in love. dramatic, yes, but what else were you supposed to do when one of michaelangelo's sculptures was just standing there, relaxed with his hands in his pockets.

with a few more comments to motivate yourself, you began to walk by him. your stance was stiff, unnatural, almost, and you kept your gaze straight ahead, sparing him a couple of glances. this was your grand scheme to shoot your shot, walking by him without a single word. unfortunately, since you were so focused on walking by him all coolly, you forgot how to walk for the briefest moment. and it was bad. you tripped and fell forward just as you were going to step away from the handsome stranger.

before your adorable face could smash right into the ground, you felt a strong hand grab your bicep, pulling you back up straight. leona kingscholar stared at you with a raised brow, wondering just why you looked so... dumbfounded? perhaps, horrified was a better word.

“careful,” he muttered, letting his eyes wander over you to see if something was wrong. “you should watch where you’re walking.”

your eyes were wide. you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, reaching to grasp at the words before they flew away entirely. “uh… uhm, yeah. yeah, sorry.” you stumbled over the words like you stumbled over your feet.

he gently released your arm once you were steady, and then he tilted his head to the side, his loose curls falling beautifully with the movement. then he smirked. could he be any hotter? “caught you starin’, you know? keep your eyes ahead and maybe you won't trip.”

oh, how embarrassing.

[kaechannn]

"JEALOUS? ME?"

ft. housewardens & vice-housewardens.

a/n: sometimes i forget that they're actually teenagers (except for leona)

Jealous!Riddle who doesn’t realize he’s jealous at first. His brows twitch, he folds his arms a little tighter, and his voice turns sharper when he sees another student getting too friendly with you, but he chalks it up to “they were being improper!”

Jealous!Riddle who starts internally fuming when someone makes you laugh. Especially if it’s Ace. His jaw clenches just slightly, and he suddenly has a very urgent rule to remind them of: “That joke was unnecessary. Please refrain from loitering during lunch hour.”

Jealous!Riddle who gets uncharacteristically quiet when someone flirts with you in front of him. The silence isn’t because he’s calm, it’s because his brain is running at full speed, trying to determine whether this warrants a duel, a stern warning, or simply storming off in a swirl of red frustration.

Jealous!Riddle who insists on walking you to class more often, especially if “a certain someone” tends to be around. He doesn’t say it’s because of jealousy, of course, it’s “a perfect opportunity to ensure you’re following regulations!”

Jealous!Riddle who will absolutely not confront you directly about his jealousy at first. Instead, you get small, clipped comments like:

“That second-year... seemed rather enthusiastic, don’t you think?”

“You seemed amused. Is that your type of humor?”

Jealous!Riddle who eventually cracks if you tease him gently about it. His face goes red, his voice rises a pitch, and he blurts,

“W-Well, it’s not like I enjoy seeing other people make you laugh like that—!”

Jealous!Riddle who calms down only when you cup his cheeks and give him a kiss right between the eyebrows. He melts. Like actual putty. “You don’t have to be jealous, silly,” you whisper, and Riddle instantly leans in, pressing his forehead against yours with a little huff. “You’re mine. Always.

Jealous!Riddle who starts being a little clingier after those moments, more hand-holding in public, lingering touches on your waist, subtle tugging you closer when you're seated next to someone else. It's subtle, but undeniably his way of claiming you.

Jealous!Riddle who presses fluttery kisses to your hands when you’re alone again. He doesn’t say anything at first, he just kisses each fingertip slowly, his expression soft and a little sheepish. Finally, he murmurs:

“Forgive me for being... possessive. I just.. care too deeply to hide it sometimes.”

Jealous!Trey who doesn’t show his jealousy immediately. He’s calm, collected, and subtle about it. But deep down, he definitely notices when another guy gets too close to you.

Jealous!Trey who offers a gentle but firm smile when he sees someone flirting with you, though his tone shifts ever so slightly, polite, but edged with tension.

Jealous!Trey who bakes to cope. He’ll suddenly start whipping up a new tart or cake with a little more vigor than usual when he’s brooding about a guy who made you laugh just a bit too much.

Jealous!Trey who pretends not to be bothered, but he’s absolutely watching from the corner of his eye.

Jealous!Trey who asks subtle questions after: “That guy earlier.. is he someone you know well?” while casually offering you a slice of his latest creation.

Jealous!Trey who isn’t possessive, but he has an unshakable fear of being seen as the “safe” or “boring” one. So if someone more outgoing or flashy shows interest in you, he can't help but compare.

Jealous!Trey who won’t directly interfere unless the guy crosses a line, but when that happens, Trey steps in with a calm voice and firm eyes. “I think that’s enough. She’s not interested.”

Jealous!Trey who finds comfort in touching you subtly when he’s feeling unsure. A hand at the small of your back. Brushing hair from your face. His fingers grazing yours as he passes something.

Jealous!Trey who is very quiet that evening, making tea and offering sweets, hoping you’ll stay a bit longer.

Jealous!Trey who finally confesses it with a little chuckle and a sigh: “I’m not really the jealous type.. or at least I didn’t think I was. But I really don’t like the idea of someone else making you smile like that.”

Jealous!Trey who leans in and kisses your forehead gently, murmuring, “I’ll just have to make sure you always smile for me instead.”

Jealous!Leona who notices immediately when someone is getting too close to you. Even if he looks like he’s half-asleep on the lounge chair, his ears twitch subtly, his sharp eyes cut toward you, and his tail flicks with irritation.

Jealous!Leona who has zero patience for flirting, especially if it’s someone younger or clearly beneath him. He’ll mutter,

“Tch. Doesn’t even have the guts to look you in the eye properly. What a joke.”

Jealous!Leona who gets especially possessive when someone touches you, like a hand on your shoulder or brushing your hair behind your ear. He’ll rise from where he’s lounging, stretch slowly like a predator waking up, and stroll over with obvious dominance radiating off him.

Jealous!Leona who wraps an arm lazily around your waist or shoulders, leans into your ear, and drawls,

“Didn’t realize we had company, herbivore. You makin’ new friends without me?”

Jealous!Leona who doesn’t say he’s jealous, but the vibes are unmistakable. His voice gets lower, his eyes narrow, and he always throws a snide comment at the person flirting with you.

“You lost, or just stupid?”

“Pretty bold, talkin’ to my girl like that.”

Jealous!Leona who is surprisingly quietly brooding when he can’t do anything about it (like in class). He rests his chin on his hand, stares at you from across the room with that narrowed gaze, and subtly stabs at his pen or clicks his tongue.

Jealous!Leona who will absolutely pull you aside later, pin you gently against a wall, and speak lowly into your ear:

“You’re mine. You know that, right? Don’t go makin’ other people think they’ve got a chance.”

Jealous!Leona who gets way more physically affectionate after someone flirts with you, resting his hand on your hip, letting you sit in his lap, and pulling you down beside him during naps. It’s quiet, wordless claiming.

Jealous!Leona who is 100% the type to groan softly into your neck if he catches a lingering scent of someone else. His voice is rough and hot against your skin:

“Hmph. Smell like someone else. I don’t like it.”

Jealous!Leona who has that quiet, dangerously calm side to his jealousy too. If the guy doesn’t back off, he might accidentally trip him during a Magift match or "just so happen" to block his path in the hallway. With a grin, of course.

Jealous!Leona who eventually cools down once you tug him into a hug and tell him how much you love him, only him. He exhales, arms tightening around your waist, and buries his face in your shoulder.

“Dumb herbivore... always makin’ me feel like this.”

Jealous!Azul who absolutely hates how easily someone else can make you smile. Especially if it’s someone loud and confident, he gets a little too quiet after you laugh at their joke.

Jealous!Azul who tries to act unaffected. Keyword: tries. He adjusts his gloves slowly, forces a polite smile, and cuts in with,

“Ah, I see you’re enjoying yourself. Mind if I borrow her for a moment?”

Jealous!Azul who gently pulls you aside under the guise of a “business matter” or “quick question.” Once you're alone, he leans down a little too close and murmurs,

“You were laughing quite a lot. I wasn’t aware they were so amusing.”

Jealous!Azul who gets self-conscious. He won’t admit it out loud, but he starts comparing himself to the person. Are they taller? More charismatic? Funnier? His insecurities come bubbling up beneath his polished exterior.

Jealous!Azul clutches his cane or pen a little tighter than usual. If Jade’s nearby, he’ll get a glance and a smirk from him.

“My, Azul... Is that jealousy I sense?”

“Mind your business, Jade.”

Jealous!Azul who accidentally raises his voice when the person pushes boundaries. If they touch your shoulder or say something flirty, Azul steps in with sharp words and a sharp smile:

“That’s quite enough. I’d advise you to keep your hands, and intentions, to yourself.”

Jealous!Azul who is more possessive in subtle ways. He’ll slip a gloved hand around your waist or lace his fingers with yours in public (something he usually doesn’t do often), just to remind others, and himself, that you’re his.

Jealous!Azul is the type to invite the person to Mostro Lounge, just to quietly humiliate them in a polite, backhanded way. He'll be sweet, but calculating:

“Do try the tart. I hear it’s perfect for people who can’t tell when they’re overstepping.”

Jealous!Azul who gets quiet and pouty when it’s just the two of you again. Not mad, just hurt. He looks at you with those stormy eyes and mutters,

“...You’re not going to leave me for someone flashier, are you?”

Jealous!Azul who melts when you reassure him. As soon as you cup his cheeks or hug him close, his insecurities falter and his arms wrap tightly around you. His voice trembles a little:

“I’m sorry. I know I’m being ridiculous... I just.. can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Jealous!Jade who smiles just a little too politely when he sees another student striking up a conversation with you. He tilts his head, watching closely, eyes half-lidded, voice dangerously soft.

Jealous!Jade who never raises his voice or scowls, but you can feel the shift in the atmosphere when his mood darkens. It’s like the air gets heavier, more humid, like the ocean before a storm.

Jealous!Jade who doesn’t confront the guy directly. Instead, he appears out of nowhere beside you, hand gently resting on your lower back or your shoulder, murmuring with a smile:

“Ah, Y/N. There you are. I was hoping to steal you away for a bit. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”

Jealous!Jade who locks eyes with the other person briefly and smiles just enough to unsettle them. It’s calm, cordial, and terrifying.

Jealous!Jade who will pretend to not be bothered when you tease him about it. “Jealous? Oh dear... I assure you, I simply wanted your company. After all, I know you belong with me.”

Jealous!Jade who starts asking strangely specific questions later with that glint in his eye:

“He seemed rather fascinated by you. Does he always stand so close when you talk?”

Jealous!Jade who is unafraid to manipulate the situation just a little, he might request your help in the lab or take you on one of his mysterious hikes in the Coral Sea right after he sees someone flirt with you.

Jealous!Jade who always keeps his tone even, but something in his gaze turns possessive. Like he’s already planning how to keep you close and undistracted by other people’s attention.

Jealous!Jade who is more touchy than usual after, brushing your cheek with his gloved fingers, adjusting your collar, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear just so.

Jealous!Jade will lean in close, voice soft but filled with quiet warning:

“I don’t mind if others admire you, Y/N. But I do mind if they forget their place.”

Jealous!Jade who ultimately lets you know, in his own unsettlingly romantic way, that he’d never stop smiling, even while dragging someone away from you with a gentle bow.

Jealous!Kalim who doesn’t even realize he’s jealous at first. He just sees someone talking to you and feels a weird tightness in his chest. His smile falters a little, but he pushes through it, because "It's okay, right? They're just talking... right?"

Jealous!Kalim who stands beside you with that signature sunshine smile, but he’s holding your hand tighter than usual. His other hand is fidgeting with his rings or tugging on his sash nervously.

Jealous!Kalim who laughs a little too loudly when the person says something to make you laugh. “Haha! That’s funny! Hey Y/N, remember that one time we—uh, we—yeah, let’s go get juice! Come on!”

Jealous!Kalim who gets adorably clingy. Like suddenly he’s throwing an arm around your shoulder or asking if you wanna ride his carpet together.

“We haven’t flown in a while, right? Let’s go! Just you and me, okay?”

Jealous!Kalim who starts interrupting the conversation without meaning to. You’re talking to someone and Kalim goes,

“Ahh! Did I tell you Y/N made this amazing snack the other day? Oh! And she helped me with my potions homework too!”

Jealous!Kalim who gets a little pouty when you talk about someone else for too long. You might catch him staring off at the wall, brows drawn slightly, mumbling,

“...He’s always around you lately, huh...”

Jealous!Kalim who isn't one to start a fight. But he absolutely glares when your admirer makes a move that’s too bold. Kalim’s still smiling, but it’s a tight smile. The type that Jamil immediately notices from across the room.

Jealous!Kalim who asks Jamil for advice and Jamil’s just like:

“...You’re jealous, Kalim.”

“Jealous?! But—I’m not mad at her! I just—don’t like that guy! He keeps standing too close and making her laugh and—AAHHH!! WHAT DO I DO?!”

Jealous!Kalim who tries so hard not to say something hurtful, so instead, he just clings to you a little tighter when you're alone. He presses his forehead to your shoulder and quietly admits:

“Hey.. You know I really, really like you, right? So if someone else ever tries to take you away... I’d be really sad.”

Jealous!Kalim who literally lights up when you cup his cheeks and giggle,

“You’re the only one I want, Kalim.”

And his face immediately blooms red like:

“REALLY?! I mean—of course!! I knew that!!"

Jealous!Jamil who tries so hard not to show it, but his eyes follow you everywhere when someone else gets a little too comfortable around you.

Jealous!Jamil who tightens his jaw when some overly friendly NRC student leans too close while you're laughing. He pretends to focus on his phone or pretend to be disinterested, but his thumb isn't even scrolling.

Jealous!Jamil who has a million thoughts racing in his head but won’t voice a single one. He tells himself he shouldn’t care,but he does.

Jealous!Jamil who gets sharp with the guy afterward. Not outright rude, but definitely colder than usual.

“Didn’t know you had so much free time. Shouldn’t you be studying for your potions retake?”

Jealous!Jamil who refuses to admit he’s jealous at first. If you tease him, he’ll scoff and turn away with crossed arms,

“Tch.. Why would I be jealous of that guy?”

Jealous!Jamil who starts acting distant. You’ll notice him keeping conversations short, avoiding eye contact, and doing chores on his own without asking for help like he usually does, because he's stewing.

Jealous!Jamil who looks more aggressively that evening. You’ll hear the clatter of pans or the way he chops vegetables a little too harshly, especially if you mention the guy again.

Jealous!Jamil who eventually lets it slip, quietly, bitterly, when you're alone.

“If he keeps hovering around you, I might just hex him to forget your name.”

Jealous!Jamil who can’t stay angry at you, though. He just gets scared that someone might take you away.

Jealous!Jamil eventually mutters a confession under his breath while looking away, “You really have no idea how hard it is... seeing you smile like that with someone else..”

Jealous!Jamil who softens if you reassure him. He won’t say much, but the next time someone tries to get too close again, he’s already by your side, one hand around your wrist, fingers laced with yours, not letting go.

“She’s taken. Try someone else.”

Jealous!Vil who always claims he doesn’t get jealous because it's unbecoming of a queen, yet the moment someone leans a little too close to you, his voice drops cold and formal:

    “Y/N, darling, perhaps you could give me your opinion on this new perfume I’m testing. Right now.”

Jealous!Vil who doesn’t need to glare, his silence is cutting enough. One stiff smile at the guy making you laugh, and that guy is suddenly very aware he’s in the presence of someone who could ruin him with one social media post.

Jealous!Vil who finds a way to outshine the guy you're talking to. If he’s laughing with you about something, Vil glides over, leans down ever-so-close to your ear and murmurs, “I can make you laugh better than that.” (And he does. Effortlessly.)

Jealous!Vil who pulls you aside under the guise of needing your help with something, only to brush his thumb across your lower lip and say, “He was staring at your mouth. I fixed it.”

Jealous!Vil who starts casually touching your hand, your waist, even your cheek more often in public, not because he needs to mark his territory, but because the sight of you laughing with someone else gnaws at him more than he expected.

Jealous!Vil who may not say he’s jealous, but will kiss you a little deeper than usual, hand in your hair, just to make sure you feel that he was.

Jealous!Vil who won't sulk or snap, he will elegantly eliminate competition. With a smug smile, perfect posture, and whispered praise only you can hear, he becomes the only one you're thinking about by the time the night ends.

Jealous!Vil who kisses your knuckles once you’re alone and says with quiet, vulnerable honesty,

    “I trust you, liebe... It’s just, when people look at you the way I do, I forget how to share.”

Jealous!Vil who doesn’t get mad at you, but later that evening, he cuddles you a little closer, pulls you into his arms like you're his crown, and gently warns:

    “Next time, make sure they know you're already adored.”

Jealous!Rook who wears his jealousy like a silk glove — refined, elegant, but undeniably tight.

Jealous!Rook who smiles way too sweetly when another student flirts with you. It's a smile that could slice glass.

“Ah~! Monsieur, you have quite the bold tongue to speak to such a belle créature. Tell me, do you often gamble with fire?”

Jealous!Rook who acts completely calm on the surface, but behind the scenes? He’s already investigating everything about the guy who dared to try and charm you. Name. Dorm. Favorite fruit. Family history. Blood type. Weaknesses.

Jealous!Rook who starts praising you in front of the guy non-stop, loudly and dramatically.

“Ma chérie, your beauty glimmers brighter than the moonlight tonight... Ah, your eyes, they are oceans! He would drown, non?”

Jealous!Rook who accidentally lets out a sharp "Hoh.." when he catches the guy lingering too close. His eyes narrow just slightly.

Jealous!Rook who walks up behind you and whispers near your ear, just loud enough for the other person to hear,

“Tell me, ma fleur, are they boring you? Or shall I steal you away, as I always do?”

Jealous!Rook who doesn’t stop you from talking to others, but watches from a distance like a hawk, expression unreadable but intense.

Jealous!Rook who gets more clingy afterward in his own Rook way. He appears in odd places suddenly. At your window. Behind a tree. On a rooftop. “What a coincidence~!”

Jealous!Rook who leaves you mysterious gifts afterward. An arrow stuck into your wall with a note:

“Even the sun grows envious of those who bask in your warmth. Don’t forget, your true admirer hides in the shadows, always watching.”

Jealous!Rook who eventually admits it, in the most dramatic way possible, when you catch him staring.

“Oui.. I admit it. Watching another try to capture your heart, it stings like a thorn pressed against my own. Mon cœur is selfish, I fear.”

Jealous!Rook who cups your face and brushes his thumb across your cheek with a dreamy sigh.

“Tell me you are mine... and I shall never let another even breathe near you again.”

Jealous!Malleus who has no idea he’s jealous at first. All he knows is that seeing someone else stand too close to you stirs something ancient and coiled in his chest, something draconic and territorial.

Jealous!Malleus who goes quiet the moment he sees you laughing with someone else. His gaze lingers, sharp and unreadable, and the air seems to shift, colder, heavier. The fireflies that usually dance near him? Gone.

Jealous!Malleus who approaches the two of you calmly, but there’s something about his presence that silences the other person instantly. He smiles, all grace and princely poise, and gently rests his hand on your back.

    “Ah, Y/N. I see you’ve made a new acquaintance. How curious.”

Jealous!Malleus who tilts his head slightly at the person you’re speaking to and speaks in such a polite, regal tone it’s clearly a warning:

    “I wonder... does your conversation partner know you are already cherished by a Draconia?”

Jealous!Malleus who doesn’t understand why he’s acting this way. He just knows he doesn’t like it when your attention isn’t on him. He sulks a little without meaning to, quiet, tense, eyes glowing faintly green.

Jealous!Malleus who later admits it in his own dramatic, poetic way:

    “When I saw them reach for your hand... I felt as if the world had tilted. Tell me, Y/N, do all humans smile that warmly at those they love?”

(He's genuinely confused. Please reassure him.)

Jealous!Malleus who might accidentally cast a minor thunderstorm when he's really upset. Just a tiny one. Nothing destructive. Just rain... and lightning. And booming thunder. All around your dorm.

Jealous!Malleus who wraps his arms around you from behind when you’re alone again, nuzzles into your neck, and whispers with vulnerable honesty:

    “You are mine... aren’t you?”

Jealous!Malleus who would never stop you from talking to others, but he will make sure they never forget that you’re loved by someone who could level a kingdom just to keep you smiling.

Jealous!Lilia who pretends he's amused when someone tries to flirt with you. He’ll laugh it off with a little smirk and say,

“Oho? I suppose youth these days really are getting bolder.” but that grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Behind that mischief is a dark glint. A silent warning.

Jealous!Lilia who casually inserts himself into your conversation without invitation.

He’ll just appear out of nowhere, hanging upside-down from a tree branch above you or leaning way too close from behind.

“Oya~ Am I interrupting something fun, my dear Y/N?”

Jealous!Lilia who starts teasing you more than usual right after. Playful, yes, but with an edge.

“I never knew you liked that type. Hm~ Should I start wearing my collar crooked too?”

Jealous!Lilia who has no problem acting completely unbothered.. until the guy touches your arm. Then Lilia’s hand is suddenly on your shoulder, light but firm.

“Careful now, little mortal. She bruises easily~”

Jealous!Lilia who can scare the living soul out of someone without changing his smile at all.

He’ll look the guy in the eye, lean forward ever-so-slightly, and say,

“You seem interesting. How about a friendly duel? Just a little one. With real swords.”

Jealous!Lilia who turns a little more clingy that evening, following you around and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.

“You smell different... Was someone too close to you earlier?” he hums near your ear. “Should I erase that scent?”

Jealous!Lilia who gets very quiet at night when it’s just the two of you. He stares at the stars, legs crossed mid-air, pretending to be thoughtful.

But then suddenly asks,

“You wouldn’t leave an old bat like me behind, would you, little one?”

Jealous!Lilia who says it like a joke, but his voice lowers, more serious than usual. And that’s when you know: he was jealous.

Jealous!Lilia who pulls you into his arms without warning and nuzzles your neck like a cat.

“You’re mine, you know,” he whispers softly. “I may be old, but I still bite.”

Jealous!Lilia who kisses your temple, still smiling, but now you feel the magic curling faintly around you like a possessive aura.

“If someone tries to take what’s mine, I won’t hold back. Immortal patience has its limits too, you see.”

[kaechannn]

Heartslabyul 9

Summary: You already have trouble with sleeping as is, now you have to deal with the little plant nymphs hogging your bed.

Your bed wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world. It's functional. It has it's working legs, a proper frame that's seen some abuse but will continue to endure for years to come, and has a thick enough layer of a mattress to keep the springs from meeting your skin. You can sleep in it, and that's really all you need. It's also a king-sized bed, courtesy of Mr. Crowley giving it to you when you were eight.

Go big or go home, was probably motto at the time. You distinctly remember that year being filled with feasts for any little accomplishment. Big feasts. Very big feasts, as in Crowley had to magically expand the doorway to get his food through big.

Anyways, point being that this bed, while roomy, didn't really rock to you sleep. So there would be night where you'd just stay awake and stare up at the ceiling, waiting for morning to come so that the morning sleepiness would take you away. You're working on it, there's been progress where now you do get sleepy when the sun sets, but that's about it.

You're still here, lying flat on your back in the dead of night. Still awake with your eyes closed since you made a private vow not to touch anything that was related to entertainment, such as TV or the internet. There would be moments of latency, where your brain fizzles out for short periods of time before tuning into the dead silence. And, during one of those moments, you heard your window click close. A sudden, quiet snap.

You ignored it. Not because you thought it was of no danger, but because this house was so prone to random noises that it didn't even register to you to even think about it. Or linger on it. The snap sounded like the sudden click of your AC, or a random tree branch smacking against your window, you don't know. Noises just kinda sound the same when you're dead tired and the brain taps in and out of the senses.

And, before you know it, you realized you were no longer alone in your bed. Five little weights have tuck themselves close against your person, when they have more than enough room to sprawl themselves out on the bed. Once again, they have all decided to sleep here.

Ace and Deuce always take up the pillow behind your head. Sometimes they get into sleep fights and end up punching each other awake. Or they stay dead asleep and you find them in the morning mid-tussle, little leafy limbs pressed against one another. Cater would be curled against your ear, sleep-talking in those squeaky, bug-like chirps, and occasionally rolling around when he's real deep in sleep. Then he would wake up, realize he rolled away again, and crawl right back to your ear. Trey likes to sleep against your neck, feet propped against your collar bone. Every so often, you have blow air at Trey when he tries to get his grubby little hands on your lips just to see your teeth. And Riddle he likes to sleep on your chest, head against your heart. Well, not really sleep actually. He dozes and it's very easy to disturb that. You breath out a sigh and suddenly Riddle is alert, just like that.

For all of their chaos, they are creatures of habit. They are here, and they have taken up their usual places. And now you're trapped in this position until…probably morning. Ugh.

It's all fine, really. You don't mind them being here, but it makes moving impossible. It's too easy to squish them. You don't want their little bodies to go crunch just because you needed to stretch some stiff muscles.

So, what do you do?

You accept your fate. Nothing to be done.

You took a deep breath in and slowly sighed it out. Riddle's head whipped up, looking around for any sign of danger and that had you chuckling a little.

"Go back to sleep," you said, feeling as if gravel was in your throat. You didn't need to do anything more. Riddle's head swayed this way and that, then finally he face planted right back into your chest, as if he fell asleep before he could set himself down.

And now, to hope you can find sleep as well.

[kaechannn]

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 | baby saja x reader

🎫 sum. imagine being a member of huntr/x and having to sit next to baby saja during the fan event. / tw. nothing / a/n: hyperfixation let’s goooo

a joint signing?

you take a look at the people you’re going to have to be seated next to, shooting rumi an “are you crazy?” look before settling your eyes on the blue-gray haired guy to your right.

you watch as he sets down his water bottle, giving you a quick glance before immediately looking away.

he’s… kind of cute.

you internally scold yourself as you take a swig of water to distract yourself.

however, you can’t stop yourself from glancing every now and then at him, and it seemed that he couldn’t help himself either.

a fan came up to you both, making you snap your head up from its original brooding position. “hi! ohmygosh, you both look stunning. could i get both your signatures please?”

you took the fan’s paper in front of you before he could and smile sweetly. “thank you! of course, let’s see here…” you quickly scribble your name, about to pass it to the other person next to you before flinching a little at how close he seemed to get.

with his face near yours, he gave you a small smirk hidden from everyone else’s views as he leisurely took the paper from you and signed it with his name, handing it back to the fan with a sickeningly saccharine smile.

you resisted the urge to face palm because he looked so good doing so.

he takes the next fan’s paper before you do, signing his name with a little plus sign underneath, leaving space for your signature.

and when he hands it over, it’s as if he purposely makes sure that your fingers brush against each other when he does.

you can practically feel the fans’ reactions to this event, more particularly your reactions with baby saja, and for some reason your head buzzes with something akin to excitement at the prospect.

you sign your name, thanking the person albeit a little shakily for coming as they hurry off.

the next time you get the paper first, you add the little plus sign he first added, earning yourself a small smile when he leans closer to watch you write.

although not much is said between you, an unspoken peace with each other is set, with an even greater tension of something blossoming.

and speaking of blossoms… when a bouquet is thrown to him you watch as he moves it out of view of the fans (after doing a half heart with his hand to his cheek), taking a couple flowers out and forcing them into your hands resting on your lap before getting up.

you scramble to get yourself together as you feel your face heat up, in disbelief that that just happened. you force a cheerful, innocent smile to play on your lips as it starts replaying in your head; his softer than you thought hands, the flowers he molded your fingers to grasp, and the cheeky smile he sported as he left.

although your thoughts were more frazzled than his more collected, but still slightly nervous, ones; you shared one same thought.

maybe, just maybe, this person is someone i can spare.

˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐙𝐄𝐕 ˎˊ˗ do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[kaechannn]

tw - non/con touching, threats of violence, and unbalanced power dynamics. a drabble for dana, @meo-eiru's newest oc and the latest character to inflict me with brainworms <3

For the first time in your life, you couldn’t fall asleep.

Some of it was because of Dana. Alright, most of it was because of Dana. She’d—He’d, you would have to get used to that, he—always stayed until you found it in yourself to lay down, sometimes staving his own exhaustion until the early hours of the morning simply because you had no desire to succumb to yours. Before, you’d keep yourself awake with pastimes and games, pick away at one of your countless embroidery projects or goad Dana into a round of gin rummy. Tonight, though, you could only lay rigid and motionless on your side, eyes clenched shut and jaw set. Dana sat by the fireplace, humming softly.

He was watching you. It felt like he was always watching, these days. It was his face you woke up to in the morning, his hands that helped you dress, his voice that dictated your schedule throughout the day. You could feel his eyes boring into your back, pictured the far-off look he tended to adopt when he thought you weren’t looking. You had half a mind to ask your father for a change of maid, but the memory of the knife in his hand was still so fresh, so vivid. You knew he kept another strapped to his thigh, and a vial of poison in his belt. Attempting to distance yourself from him would lead to one of either fates, you were sure.

And so, you measured your breathing and counted the seconds until sunrise. You might’ve been able to stay in that paralyzed un-sleep until morning that you not heard Dana’s skirts shift, his heels click against the floor as he made his way toward you. The mattress dipped, and then, his chest was against your back, one arm loosely draped over your midriff. This close, you could smell the lavender soap and cigarette smoke that seemed to hang over him like a shroud. You thought he’d kicked the habit, but he must’ve picked it up again.

“I know you’re awake.” It was all you could do not to stiffen against him. He sighed, resting his forehead against the nape of your neck. “You’re more restless when you sleep, always tossing and turning. As if you’ve ever had to worry a day in your life.”

His tone was cold, pointed, but you didn’t move, hoping your paralysis would be enough to bore him. Instead, he sat up, leaning over you to see your face. “You haven’t kissed me at all today,” he muttered, threatening to dip into a whine. “Why is that? The other servants caught me with lipstick stains on my collar so often, they thought I was having an affair with one of the noblemen. What changed?”

Fury raged deep in your chest, hot and indignant. You’d kissed him, sure, pecked his cheek while he was doing your make-up or pulled him into an empty room to kill time between your daily lessons, but that was a joy you shared with your friend, your maid, your sole confidant. The man who bent over you now was just a voyeur, the warden to the prison that he made of your home. Being tied to someone who could kill you – who had planned to kill you – was no way to exist. The stress was constant, a never-ending salt that kept the wound of betrayal open and raw. Had your captor not also provided the bittersweet comfort of a familiar face, you might not have been able to stand it.

Your anger boiled over too quickly, too violently to be choked back down. You snapped up and moved to speak, but Dana’s mouth was on yours before you could spit a word out. It was difficult to remember how careful he used to be with you, all grazing fingertips and soft smiles, like he thought anything too rough, anything too forceful would shatter you. Now, his teeth bit into your bottom lip and his grin was sharp enough to cut.

Rather than let you go, his embrace only grew tighter. An arm found its way to your waist, another to your legs, dragging your body against his. His mouth fell from your lips to the crook of your neck, settling into place as if guided there by instinct. You could feel the cold steel of his knife through your nightgown, and although he had yet to draw it, you took the threat to heart. No running. No trying to escape.

No way out.

“Let’s spend every night like this.” Dana didn’t seem quite so disturbed. “We’ll say that you’ve started having nightmares. That you can only sleep when I’m with you, and you don’t feel safe with anyone else.” He pulled back abruptly, beaming. “Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

His dull eyes caught the moonlight, shining a metallic grey. You used to find it comforting, fortifying, like an overcast sky on a hot summer day. You used to wonder what you would do without him, how you’d ever survive.

Now, you could only force yourself to smile and try not to imagine how you were ever going to get away.

[kaechannn]

Requesting another alien aether scenario, please please please! 🙏 🙏 🙏

hey so this may or may not be a sort of sequel to the first alien aether fic, so check it out before you read this for more context ,, BUT!! this is less of Strange aether and more of alien aether, so i hope u enjoy still!!!! >__<

special thanks to reiden for proof reading tysm <3

"Beidou already left?"

Ayaka's face crumples in sympathy. "Sorry! If I had just known you needed a ride, I would've told her to delay for an hour more!"

You slump to the ground, a resigned sigh dragging out just as the fight leaves your body. Ayaka sinks to her heels beside you, rubbing your shoulders for comfort. "Don't worry, that was my fault," you murmur in defeat. "I should've asked when they were planning to sail off."

Ayaka still looks unsure, her drooped shoulders resembling those of a kicked puppy. You offer her a reassuring smile, patting her hand.

"I'm not mad," you tell her. "It's just a minor inconvenience, promise."

"But… you mentioned you needed to get to Mondstadt for an important matter." And Ayaka takes important matters very seriously.

Actually, the important matter in question was really just you wanting to try out their wine; and apparently, their tastiest—and cheapest—is limited for this season. It is sold as a special, as leftovers from the Windblume Festival. And it is definitely not worth Ayaka's conscience.

You cup her cheeks, feeling incredibly guilty. "It's nothing super serious. I can reschedule. See? Easy—solved. Mondstadt isn't going anywhere any time soon, I think."

"Did we just hear you say Mondstadt?" a shrill voice pipes up a few feet away.

Of course, considering your luck, it's none other than Paimon and her trusty companion, the Traveler. Paimon's entire body wiggles as she waves at you both, while Aether's gaze is locked on you, lips quirked.

"Traveler!" Ayaka cries out, rising to her feet in an instant and all but rushing over to the pair. "You came at the perfect time!"

"Is something wrong?" Paimon asks, faltering.

"Yes," Ayaka replies swiftly before you could even cut in. "You see, Beidou has already sailed off to return to Liyue, but Y/N needed to get to Mondstadt and just missed her."

You don’t like where this is going. "Hold on—"

Paimon gasps. "Are you saying—?"

"I'm not saying anything—!"

Aether hums thoughtfully, grinning at you like he's won something. "Mondstadt? I'm sure we can afford to take a detour, can't we, Paimon?"

Paimon nods enthusiastically. "Yup! It's a good excuse to visit some familiar faces we've missed while we were off traveling!"

"Detour?" You eye him suspiciously. "From Inazuma to Mondstadt?"

Ayaka tugs you to her side, and you oddly feel like a scolded kid in the playground. "Thank you so much. I know out of anyone in Teyvat, the Traveler is someone I can trust. Please take care of my friend."

Aether grins at you. "You're in safe hands."

"We're so glad you could join us, Y/N!" Paimon says, clasping her hands in a single, delighted clap. "It's not every day we get to have another companion."

After what felt like Ayaka selling you off to the most dangerous individual on Teyvat, Aether rented out a boat built for five but crowded with two and a half. You watched helplessly as Aether tossed a heavy pouch of Mora to the dock master with the ease only a world-renowned hero could have.

"Sumeru first! We can't risk it on the ocean without Beidou's crew!" Paimon had chirped when you set sail.

You couldn't complain when they asked if that was alright, since it would be a golden opportunity to set foot on Sumeru, though the way Aether's gaze lingered on you, faintly smug—he probably knows what you're thinking.

It was unsettling for sure, but Aether kept his distance while on the boat. Paimon had dozed off, curled up on Aether's lap. You'd braced yourself for it—that sly grin and heated proximity, the way he did that day. But Aether stayed frustratingly polite. You don't know why you were almost wishing he would pay attention to you. To prove a point? How embarrassing.

The three of you reached a grassy stretch of Sumeru, a bit farther from civilization's reach, all rolling hills and rich with trees. You'd hesitated visibly back at the port, lingering by the city just a beat too long to take in everything. It had been so dangerously tempting to ask for them to stay. But Aether had been watching you, and there was a knowing look in his eyes that meant he could easily make up another excuse to keep you longer, and you knew yourself well enough to recognize your weakness. You wouldn't even hesitate.

"Thank you for having me," you respond politely, inclining your head. "I promise I won't be too much of a bother—you're already doing so much for me."

Paimon waves both hands in front of her face dismissively. "Nah. Don't you worry! It's always fun for everyone to travel in a group! Right, Aether?"

Finally, you both turn to acknowledge Aether's presence, who's off gazing at something else. His hair sways along with the wind. You find yourself entranced by how the sunlight traces over it for a moment. Must be an alien thing to have gold as hair.

Paimon flutters over to her companion worriedly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Shh." Aether holds a finger against Paimon's mouth, his brows knitting together in concentration. "You hear that?"

The air seems to have fallen silent as well to listen; and there was only the sound of the fresh wind blowing past your ears, paired by the tickle of the grass against your ankles—then a whirring sound vibrates the ground so heavily you can feel it in your teeth, crawling closer and closer.

Paimon rears back in shock. "That sounds like—"

A dragon-like machine crests the hill and ascends overhead, gears creaking and grinding ominously. And due to its sheer size, its shadow swallows all three of your bodies.

"How is an Aeonblight Drake here?" Aether curses, his wrist flicking as a strange colored light pools in his palm.

Paimon shrieks, streaking past to hide behind you.

For one breathless moment, you are too paralyzed by awe to flee. The pressure sends grass whipping around into the air with each lash of its limb, producing a mock blizzard of green.

Then the drake's lenses lock onto Aether with a click, wings rattling in the air with its rusted hinges—and suddenly, you're mimicking Aether and materialize a handcrafted bow to your grasp. The bow feels frayed and light in your hands—meant to hunt weak animals, and not at all suitable for the size of a ruin machine that would make your arrows seem like a toothpick. But if you aim to buy seconds enough for Aether to strike it down, then—

Aether doesn't question your instantaneous instinct to kill, instead encouraging it with a grim nod. "Shoot at its core!" he yells over the deafening whir of the engine.

Aether's hand flares with elemental energy as the drake flies overhead. He hurls a concentrated vortex, causing it to stumble and flutter erratically. You take it as an opportunity to strike—the arrow hurtles as soon as its core dips into view.

It jerks back, releasing a shower of sparks. But it is not enough. It stabilizes too soon, and it locks onto you.

The realization hits just a bit too late.

You catch Aether's sharp inhale as energy crackles around the machine, its core pulsing gold and straining your eyes. It happens in a flash—before you even know it, a stream of energy hurls towards you. You could've dodged it, but you still feel Paimon clinging to your sleeves, terrified, and there wouldn't have been enough time for you to pull her aside without injuring her. No time at all. So you shove her to the side with your body and brace yourself for the blast that was left unavoidable.

It burns, brutal like a whip, however not bone-deep.

Paimon's cry cuts through the ringing in your ears as you push yourself up. You want to reassure her that it was nothing too serious—it might even heal in a day, saved by the thick leather hugging your forearms.

But you don't notice how Aether stills. Don't notice the way his eyes lock onto your battered form, sleeves singed, and knocked to the ground. You couldn't even catch it if you tried, when suddenly—

Light.

A furious burst of energy, howling and splitting through the air. You and Paimon clutch each other in surprise, unable to see past the blinding glare.

It's unlike anything you've seen before. It is nothing like the elements Teyvat had to offer. It feels as though the ground beneath you trembled, alarmed and unfamiliar by this display of power, just entirely beyond this world.

One blink and the next, and the machine jerks unsteadily, into shuddering spasms. Its gears stutter to a halt, hanging suspended mid-air for a breath of a moment, before crashing to the ground violently, parts scattering around.

The air is heavy with the silence and the smell of smoke coming from the defeated machine.

Aether stands amid the wreckage, heaving and glowing with the same shade of the blast that killed the Aeonblight Drake in a split second. It's like his entire body is thrumming with leftover energy, begging to be released and to burst out of his body, though Teyvat could not take it. It would kill this world in one fell swoop.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, fingers trembling from the adrenaline—or perhaps shock from the display of sheer power. Paimon is fluttering around you, though her voice sounds muffled from the ringing in your ears, and your attention is solely on the man before you.

Aether whirls around, and your gaze locks.

He stumbles toward you through the settling dust, asking if there is any bleeding or if you were limp anywhere.

You think you're answering him. You must be. But you just can't tear your eyes away from his face. His pupils are blown wide, his chestplate glowing with a light that doesn't belong in this world. A color Teyvat might not even have a name for.

Oh.

So this is why they call him the Traveler.

all this for wine Like i would just rather die hello. Also ik its inaccurate bc aether loves his dull sword but like this is sexier methinks WHOSAIDTHAT

this turned out way more action packed than what i initially planned and its very scary cus my only idea was "aether sees u injured and suddenly boss dead" also i might? make another part since i already set up an opening for me next time so lmk if anyone's interest hehe

[kaechannn]

a/n so i took the whole "aether is an alien" thing and ran away with it (aka aether has a strange way of expressing interest and you just think he's weird)

aether x reader, ayaka&reader&yoimiya, plus my yoimiya bffs w paimon agenda

special feature: earthtooz beta reading the fic, “aether you're so weird back tf up.”

"This is from... Miss Ying'er, you said?" Ayaka turns the bottle in her hands, her grip careful, deliberate—with the grace of a princess. Like she's trying to recreate the procedure in her head.

Yoimiya holds her perfume by the neck and inhales a lungful. "Wow, this smells amazing! Are you sure I can just have it?"

You laugh, amused as Yoimiya dabs it all over her body enthusiastically without even waiting for your reply. "Yeah, don't worry. She just offered me a bunch of samples. You like it?"

Ayaka nods approvingly, still fixated on the miniature vial. She seems endearingly fascinated. "This scent is phenomenal. I might have to ask you to deliver me a box of this next time you go."

You busy yourself with teaching them the best points to apply the perfume, the scents heightened by the dewy atmosphere of the forest. As you sit in a circle on the grass, you share laughter and stories from your extended trip to Liyue. Nothing could ruin this relaxing moment. Yet just as Ayaka offers for you to try on her perfume, Yoimiya gasps and sits upright.

"Oh, oh! I just remembered—Aether is coming over today!" Yoimiya claps eagerly, buzzing with energy. "It's been a while since he's visited Inazuma."

You frown. "Oh."

Ayaka gasps lightly. "He returns today? We should welcome him back."

"Honestly, he should be at the city right now." Yoimiya gathers herself, dusting off blades of grass as she rises to her feet. Without warning, she reaches for your wrist and begins pulling you off the ground.

"Wait, wait, wait." You pull away from Yoimiya's grasp. "I never said anything about joining you."

"Why not?" Yoimiya mirrors your insulted expression. "Hold on, do you have beef with the Traveler?"

Ayaka's fingers press to her mouth, eyes alight, like she's just heard the gossip of the century.

"No, no, it's nothing like that!" you burst out frantically. "We're just not close. Like—um, how you guys are with him, I assume."

"Did he do something?" Yoimiya asks, seriously concerned.

"He's just a bit strange."

"Hm." Ayaka taps an index finger to her chin. "I'd say he's more polite than strange."

Your nose wrinkles involuntarily, memories of your first impression of him flashing back. "Polite?"

Yoimiya exhales dramatically. "Alright. I don't know what's going on, but we're not leaving you here—not after it's been months since we last saw you! You're coming with us."

You turn to Ayaka for help, but she already has her gaze casted away as if expecting it. Accepting defeat, Yoimiya cheers, hooking an arm under yours as she hauls you off before you could sag to the ground. Ayaka follows after, smiling as Yoimiya practically drags you back to the city, her trail smelling like freshly-picked Liyue-exclusive flowers.

It doesn't take long to find the Traveler's whereabouts—practically everyone is gushing about his presence and how lucky we are to catch him before he goes! You three discover them walking around the streets of Tenryou, lugging a cart full of street food and packages of what you could only assume are gifts handed by the locals.

"Hi, Yoimiya, Ayaka!" The little floating creature next to the Traveller waves her hands around excitedly. "It's been a while!"

"Hi, Paimon!" Yoimiya exclaims, doubling the energy and stretching her arms for Paimon to barrel towards her chest with a thud.

As you and Ayaka watch the two spin around like separated sisters with fond smiles, you don't notice that Aether has pretty much snuck up behind you until you can practically feel his presence.

You damn near shriek, jumping away as he grins and crowds your space like it's not entirely improper.

"We meet again," he says cryptically.

"Archons," you mutter, terrified.

Yoimiya smacks her fist to an upright palm, as if she's just solved a year-long agonized riddle. "So you have met!"

"You didn't believe me—"

"Yeah! We met Y/N before!" Paimon whizzes over to your personal bubble as well, circling around your head a few times. "Back when we were in Liyue before we left to Sumeru, the Traveler wanted to strike up a conversation."

"Seems like it was very one-sided," Ayaka muses, unforgivably entertained by your distress.

"Yeah, Y/N was a little…" Paimon said with a grimace, missing the way you inch away as Aether eyes you, like he's fascinated by seeing you in a completely different environment.

"Anyway!" Paimon claps once. "What were you guys doing? Not to be weird, but, Yoimiya, you smell so different!"

Yoimiya waves her hand dismissively, appearing coy. "Oh, please."

"No, seriously, you smell like Liyue," Paimon says. "Like you rolled around Silk Flowers. It smells really good, though!"

Ayaka giggles. "Y/N brought home a box of perfume handmade by Miss Ying'er from Liyue, that must be why. We were trying them out."

"Really?" Aether pipes up, not even bothering to address Ayaka directly.

It feels as though your face erupts in flames as Aether angles close enough to dip his head close to the side of your neck.

Your brain seems to have melted out of your ears, warmed his proximity. "Hey—"

"Smells good to me," Aether says, the words holding the same warmth one would give to a five-star meal. Like Ying'er was awaiting his approval.

Yoimiya shares a confused glance with Ayaka. "Y/N's... not wearing any perfume."

Aether doesn't appear deterred by that, unashamed and virtually all over you the same way he was when he found you bored, eating alone at one of Liyue's outdoor stalls.

"Aether is acting weird again," Paimon sighs, like it's an everyday occurrence. "Paimon swears he acted like that last time, too—like giving a dog a bone. Can't snap him out of it."

Yoimiya and Ayaka conceal their laughter behind their palms, though fruitless by the curve of their eyes.

"Must be an alien thing," Yoimiya says, not sounding pitying in the slightest. "Poor thing."

a/n hi guys i swear i didn't get weird while i was gone this has always been my niche </3 i haven't played since natlan update but i still adore these characters, so i thought why not ease back into it with the sixosix favorite: aether