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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 4 months

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Honey Lemon Crescendo

Pairings: Trey Clover/Vampire MC

Summary: The gods should have made you better, so that they could love you.

The days you pray for the abolishment of your abhorrent form are rare in the centuries you have lived since your family's death, and your turning. Sharpened claws and teeth, the hellfire of your gaze are concealed for your own convenience, you tell yourself, especially as you enroll into NRC. The tonic of human affairs rarely interested you, yet when you find the truly curious case of Trey Clover, someone who is made only of that plain sort, you cannot help but to promise yourself one conversation, some several hours of the thousand thousand you have lived to taste what it is like to be treated, and be human again. But you're a fool, and a hypocrite‒ you find yourself breaking that promise over, and over, and over. Your fragile resolve frays at every sunbeam smile, every ringing laughter of his.

MC is a vampire, unique magic is telepathy, being able to unconsciously hear everyone's thoughts

Notes: Once again I am alive lol. Barely. Just finished my first semester in my Master’s program so I’ve been experiencing a bit a burn out, so I apologize if this isn’t my best work. Also, every time I'm like "hm is this too much trauma?" But then I remember the child murder, kidnapping, and child endangerment that's canon in twst and I'm like ooh wait right nvm I’m good. Fits within the canon. Anyways, I would have liked to explore the concept of BPD and its allegorical connections to Vampirism more in depth, especially due to the social sigma associated with it‒ but I feel that it would be waaaay too long for a one-shot if I did so.

Also, all stand alone quotes that are in italics represent inner thoughts (with some exceptions depending on your personal interpretations)

TW: References to depression, references to religious trauma, exorcism, and cults; references to child abuse; survivors guilt; referenced to verbal abuse; anxiety; panic attacks; slight mentions of eating disorders/disordered eating (suppressing appetite); BPD

GN Terms for MC

AO3 Link Here

Masterlist

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“There is no sin within this child. Only the devil which lives within them.”

Those were the words that had prevented your burning during the trial, among other things.

Perhaps it was also the way you would keep your claws obscured under thickset leather gloves, conceal your crimson gaze under obsidian shades, or the terror that seized you every night that left you so evidently unraveled in all of your unforgiving guilt and abhorrence for your new form. The pity that could be provoked by the wetness and flush of a child’s face was something many adults in the future instructed was a bias you should have been more grateful for‒ as it triumphed over whatever horrors people held when you spoke a decibel too loudly to show your sharpening fangs, moved too swiftly to confirm the power that swelled within you like simmering, spoiled blood‒ pungent, and nauseating.

It reminds you of the smell at the state of decomposition you found your family in when you returned home from a several day trip with your cello instructor‒ and the smell of its mouth when its sharpened teeth lurched towards your neck, before you felt the metallic taste drip cold into your gasping mouth.

It was first the elongated fangs. Then came the claws, the lack of reflection, the original color of your eyes draining, replaced with a bright vermillion. The enhanced senses and physical power were less noticeable‒ but the subtle power that swelled in your hands when you broke skin and meat with your own grip upon your arm did not go unnoticed by the Supreme Leader who examined your body and soul during your trial.

“This thing should be useful to me, I hope. I was right to send that “Cello Instructor” with them to take care of business here. I’ll continue my divine plan as usual.”

The words themselves terrified you. Should you run? Hide? Die? Where would you go‒ with your small feet and hands? What could you do? The more oppressive horror lay in the confirmation of the whorling suspicion inside of your small, ten-year old mind that your new form allowed for telepathy‒ the exact “usefulness” the Supreme Leader had suspected lapped inside of you. You were absolutely sure of it, days later, when you read the color of the townspeople faces‒ their leering eyes and curled lips, squeezing their children close behind them‒ back towards your home, set ablaze by their torches and oil. The scramble of noise wasn't needed to confirm their disgust of you, but it came anyway.

“Hideous.”

“Demon. Probably killed that poor family.”

“That disguising appearance‒ must be the child of the devil.”

“Murderer. Things like you deserved to be burned. Supreme leader is truly a blessing to take care of such vile things.”

You cowered at their stares‒ but you remember considering it distantly for a moment, even in the midst of your situation. That night you had been found by shaking candlelight, your mouth drenched with blood and fear, palming numbly at your family's cold bodies. You couldn't blame them, you supposed. The townspeople feared you. You feared you. Stay with me . The Supreme Leader told you. And you did.

He defended you during your trial with a kind smile, tying the rope around your wrists loosely with gentle hands, spoke softly of good deeds, good gods, all forgiving and loving. When he convinced the council to graciously join his family , you didn’t run.

“Don’t you want to be loved by god?”

You shakily rolled the breath that seized in your lungs, your small hands clutched in a prayer against the heartbeat that thundered against your bones.

“How pitiful child, that you choke on your sorrow. You, abhorrent creature, abomination of god‒ let me love you .”

“Let me be your god.”

He held a copy of Dissertations Upon the Apparitions of Angels, Daemons, and Vampires of Wonderland in his hands‒ he pressed a finger onto each part of your body, comparing it with his‒ what made him human, and what made you not. He gifted you your own room‒ different from all the other children, deep at the belly of the earth. The cobblestone walls reached high into the heavens where you could not see, even with your enhanced vision‒ the light falling just where your vision could reach. One of his attendants presented him with a pair of cuffs, made specially for your size. The ones they had did not yet fit you. However, he placed them on the ground‒ crescent smile and blackened eyes. You would not escape.

You kept your secrets for a while‒ despite the unquenchable jealousy, festering sin, and violence that sprouted abundantly in the minds of his chosen advisors, who pinched your skin and snaked their cold hands under your shirt. In your ever dwindling, coastal town‒ you'd seen denial was the first reaction to loss. You'd felt a modicum of humanity in your ruthless rejection, letting the inner noise of others curdle in your mind.

Their words on the surface stuck of cheap, saccharine perfume, ones you recognized in the town's alleys and such. Yet you swallowed your nausea down, digesting their words one by one. You still had faith then, capable of religion . So easy to fool back then‒ you think now‒ children rarely doubt the material world. Why would people hurt you on purpose?

You were still a child then‒ an infant in vampiric years.

“ Don’t you want to be loved by god?”

“To be useful to god?”

"Useful to me?"

“They’ve done so much for you.”

“I’ve done so much for you.”

“Don’t you want to repay that?”

You revealed it all, in your childish trust, and his soft hands. You thought perhaps, that adults, despite their true intentions, would help you somehow. Belief in good will. Faith. It grips you with force.

It wasn’t all violence at first. But you began to fear the day where their actions would finally twist into something reflective of their actual intentions. That day came rather quickly, or so you think. Time did not matter in the small confines of your chambers below ground. The bloodletting, lashings, the vivisections were then all to vanquish the spirits that germinated inside your sinking flesh, possessing you to reveal such “impure things” in front of the people. Purification , he called it, no matter how many times you dried your throat from apologies, or promised you would do better next time. Next time I will speak your truth. God’s truth . You say the way their desires for a monster began to shape every laceration, every break of the bone.

Still, you couldn’t be their monster, nor a human. It seemed that the seeds of sacrilege had been sown firmly into you, and flourished each passing decade in its grotesque power.

The gods should have made you better, so that they could love you.

You’d beg through a dried throat and spinning vision for forgiveness and to appeal your usefulness‒ you knew the moment the priest resumed his kind smile, gentle hands, and his flowery voice‒ that he had found a use for you. Work for me , he said‒ and you obliged. He held your hand again, with a firm grip, and brought you to trials, his grand meetings with thousands of his followers‒ and you’d do his bidding, pointing a shaking finger at “non-believers” and spies‒ watching closely, where the supreme leader’s eyes leered and narrowed in order to anticipate your next move of survival . By then, you had learned to tune out a significant portion of the noise of people, to live in ignorant bliss for the few hours he would spend mending your gashing wounds, let you fiddle around with your cello that had survived the angry mob that burned down your family’s bakery, and home. Soft touches, sweet voice, he spoke.

"Good child, one of god, of forgiveness, of love. "

And you could tell he had meant it‒ knowing that when he lied to you‒ he always clasped his hands unconsciously in prayer. If there were opposing intentions twisting below his perfumed words that you had somehow failed to pick up with your trained senses‒ you couldn’t be bothered to unravel them. It was just nice. To be held again‒ forgiven . By someone at least, if not yourself. You were good. You were good again.

Decades pass‒ the people and the landscape move and breathe. It was only a matter of time your hometown would dwindle into a ghost city, being built on scrappy mines and poor fishermen, controlled by a con-man and his desperate believers. Even with nothing to lose, the remaining residents exiled you. Perhaps it was their humanity that they grasped onto with that final action.

You stand against the passing aches after aches‒ drinking it all from your chalice‒ vessels gilded with gold and hammered with human desire, sitting high to the heavens on altars to hold the blood and wine offered to the gods. You’d been hollowed much like that grail, gouged from the sharpened image of your still, immutable face against the shifting harmony of the world you could not enter. You have no reflection, no face, no name people would call out to take shape as your own, no proof of your corporeal form but your own, cold touch. And the hunger. The hunger seized you at every moment‒ aching through the gums of your fangs, and pounding your heart with the lifeblood that chased it. You were at least alive in your

You'd fashion something from the use you'd have to other people. A frankenstein skin stretched over your bones. You still feel the Supreme Leader’s gaze hollowing your senses.

"It's like they're reading my thoughts."

"Those sunglasses and gloves, what are you trying to stand out? So annoying."

"Why don't you read the atmosphere for once?"

"Arrogant asshole."

"What are you, pretending to be all high and mighty."

"Liar."

The noise never stops completely. But you've learned to shut the world out, better now with the advancements on potions and ear plugs‒ courtesy of the Night Raven College’s curriculum‒ hands free to grasp at every opportunity to prove you had existed in some way‒ a being that was real enough to feel the light of gods' love and forgiveness. Useful. Good.

“How did you know I used browned butter?”

Light‒ feather soft, honey sweet music that streams into your mind.

You always sat alone in the end. There was a composition to everything, as you saw it. And you had perfected the score of distance‒ being able to orchestrate a friendly, carefree facade, an absolutely stupid and undoubtedly shallow passion, pruning the space between you and the world. A gothic mirror to parody themselves, so they could not truly look at your monstrous, yet absent form‒ something you were sure would absolutely rupture the thick skin you've fashioned together out of pieces of the real people unlike yourself. You'd break apart into nothing but dust.

It was like the volume, moods, and rhythms created in the scores you played‒ you charged the room with boisterous laughter and directed the eyes at that, instead of your fervent efforts in composing the most fantastic detachment. In the end, you were almost giddy to see that no one saved you a seat, or spared you a glance when you slipped outside for a cigarette wedged hungrily between your fingers. The nicotine was enough to starve off the ache beginning to turn swiftly to nausea between your wobbling footsteps, and you were glad, you think, to have served your use in the social spiral to be afforded a moment of peace.

Or, you thought.

“Huh?”

“You forgot your prize.” The boy in front of you thrusts a frosted cupcake towards you, prompting you to switch the cigarette to your other hand to receive it. In the subtle moonlight, you see the sugar melted into the cream glitter a bit when you inspect the pastry.

He adjusts the hat on top of his green head of hair as he continues. “The competition to see who could guess all the ingredients in the cake correctly‒ you won, it was perfect, actually.”

You stare at him dumbly and you find yourself scooting over to make space for him. His eyebrows are tilted in a way that made his face a little sorry, a little roguish‒ a combination you found curious raised above those soft honey lemon eyes that hung like that summer fruit above the lush curve of his lashes.

“So‒ how did you know? I’m curious.”

You exhale the rest of the smoke resting in your lungs. “I…used to know people who were bakers. Their secret ingredient in their famous brownies was browned butter. I’ve eaten so many trays I’ve come to know the taste. The rest is just luck.”

He laughs. Not like you had seen out of the corner of your eye when he had been talking to all those people, but a loose, genuine chuckle. “I’d hardly call it luck‒ you got the measurements down pretty close. Impressive, if you ask me. May I ask‒ are you a baker?”

“I…” You find yourself smiling through the cigarette pushed to your lips, careful not to show your teeth. “I used to be. I used to spend a lot of time there, they must have rubbed off me.”

How long has it been since you’ve thought about them? You could remember the distinct nutty smell from the pounds of brown butter your sister was in charge of making‒ the click click click of your mother’s footsteps as she worked from the counter to the rack of trays, preparing the bread dough for proofing. Your father in the background, fiddling with the radio, beaming when he heard a recording of your cello performance on the morning radio. Warmth, sunlight. The beat of your heart, and the heat of your blood.

“You’ll have to give me the recipe then. I’ve been looking for a good brownie recipe.”

A moment to contemplate if you should end this conversation here. Something switches inside of you, perhaps a remnant of that warmth you remembered.

“You have something to write with?”

His face flowers gently into a brightened expression before he pulls out a small notebook from his breast pocket.

“...Thank you.”

You hum apathetically to work through the dreadful loom of warmth you feel when you hand the paper back to him with the recipes you’ve committed to memory from your laborious days at your family’s seaside bakery. The smoke still hanging in the air shifts sharply when you stand, and you flick the cindering cigarette to the pavement to stomp it out. You can tell there is more he wants to say that sits bubbly on his tongue, but you turn towards the door leading back to the Heartslabyul dorm before the words can take form through his smile.

There’s a moment that you stand by the door where you reflect on what you saw of him while he was inside, mingling with other humans.

“You should loosen your shoulders more when you smile, like that." Under his hat, you see his eyebrows raise up in slight surprise. Surprise isn't enough, you decide, and add, "If you want to convince people."

You hope those words leave him a bit cold, a bit cruel that he doesn’t come seeking after you anytime soon, feeling the scramble of thoughts threatening to pool into your ears through the plugs. It’s all noise to you. You step inside once more‒ feeling a little less sick, a little less raw to be able to orchestrate again.

Trey finds your handwriting as pretty as you were in the noise of the room, inspecting all the curls and loops of each word. It takes him a moment before he notices what you left behind.

“They forgot their prize…”

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The next time you meet him is during band practice. Or, more precisely, hear him would be a better descriptor.

"Have you seen (Name)?"

The thick walls of the storage room muffles his voice, but you still hear it loud and clear as you lean against the door, cello in hand.

"I just saw them a minute ago. I think they went to run a few errands or something since the school festival is soon." Carter replies.

"Ah it seems like I'm on a wild goose chase. I'm starting to wonder if such a person even exists…"

“They’re everywhere and nowhere all the time.” Carter chuckles. "I didn't even know you two were like that."

"Hm. I guess. We only really talked once." He hums.

"But I'd like to get to know them better ."

The sharp inhale you suck in makes an audible sound when you hear those words brush the back of your neck. You press the palm of your hands flat against your ears in panic to prevent any sound‒ voices, noise, the world‒ all of it, from entering your mind.

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet‒

You time his steps, the pleasantries he's likely throwing at the rest of the members, the time it takes for him to get far from your radius of power. Slowly, you release your hands from your head, and take a few moments to gather yourself before exiting the room.

Carter is the first to notice you. "Eh? (Name)? Since when were you there?"

"Since 10 minutes ago, dear. I told you we were going to take a break from group practice today and do individual practice today didn't I? We've been rehearsing so much for the festival I figured we could take a break for today."

"Really?? How did I miss this? I totally just sent Trey to the wrong place."

Lilia continues to tune his bass. "You were on your phone when (Name) briefed us on the schedule 3 weeks ago, Carter."

"I wanted to do a group rehearsal today! I feel like I finally got the hang of the last couple measures this time!" Kalim interjects.

"Don't pout, my dear president." The hand you place on his head is as gentle as ever. "You can practice without a vocalist for today, can't you? I have a lot to catch up on the Monstero Lounge gig I have coming up."

You bid your fellow members goodbye, dragging the instrument all the way to one of the empty classrooms.

Finally, a moment of peace.

You shuffle through your folder, fishing out the piece you had picked to play for a talent night that Azul had insisted you come and play at, excitedly chattering about how it was going to be brilliant for business.

Chopin's Cello Sonata in G Minor, Largo .

The cello sonata was one of the composer's last pieces. It was spectacular to you. A final, dazzling eruption before dwindling to the mere echoes of what had once been there‒ a fantastical piece with a pressure combed through every measure that would well an incomprehensible rawness that began at your chest, and would weave through the fibers of your throat that clenched in its emptiness.

But perhaps it was not so incomprehensible‒ humans in your life had been much the same. The ones you held dearly would rupture from this world, leaving you empty, aching with the sharpened, receding fragments.

When you slip off your gloves to press your bare fingers against the strings, you try not to let this thought consume you.

"But I'd like to get to know them better."

Bitterly, it seeps.

You know it's wrong‒ the piece is supposed to be for a simple, ten minute performance‒ a monotonous activity of human affairs that you would be pleased to check hastily off the list with a presentable smile and lightness. However, the decades you have lived until this day weigh upon you at once, spinning your hands in such a way that threads your grief heavily into the mellow air. The murky rust of the setting sun swells with the florid volume of your own misery, and the silence of the world that ripostes it.

The song falls softly, a slow stroke that gradually quiets until there is nothing. A diminuendo‒ to shatter, to finish. There's a small comfort, that unlike living things, the scores that stood on the iron music stand could be revived time after time, on trembling strings and resin scented maple. But, not much.

The flesh at the back of your eyelids are sparked with purple and blue stars as you squeeze your eyes shut, head leaning against the body of the cello to steady your breaths. It may have been the dizziness steadily climbing from the ache of your empty stomach to your head, but you felt like you were swaying in that concoction of color and bursting light.

"Don’t you want to be loved by god?”

You're afraid that if you open your eyes, the world may still be there. The noise, it will still exist, and reel you in‒ tangling you among its grotesque allure until the moment you reach towards it. Then, it will furl inwards, somewhere far from where you could detect it. The air feels sharp in your lungs‒ you feel like if you take too much in, you’d burst. The bow splinters in your hand, drawing blood.

"Pretty ."

A voice strikes through your bleakness, a gentle, but clear sound.

Trey stands at the center of your view. His face holds a glossy look for a moment, before he shakes his head and apologizes.

"Sorry‒ I just‒ I just heard you in the hallway, I thought you sounded really…" He laughs, shifting his gaze to the side. " Pretty ."

You look down at your instrument, and notice your bare hands, you remember you don't have your sunglasses on either. The cello echoes when you lean it against the desk, turn away from him to slip on your gloves and glasses.

You clear your throat, feeling each word stumble in staccato breaths. "Ah. Well. Um. Thank you. It's all, rather, very wrong though."

"Wrong? But it was incredible."

"Pretty."

The thoughts that enter his mind that churn into yours are ignored best you can before you swivel, veiling yourself in your disguise once more. "Perhaps wrong is not the best term. It's not tasteful for the audience, I suppose. There was no control."

"Control?" He parrots.

"Yes, you know." You wave your hand in flutter movements. "If someone like me performed like I just did‒ ha! I’d become the laughing stock of the entire school. " You clasp your hands together. "Now, darling. I must get going. Did you want to marvel at my music some more, or is there anything else you needed?"

You work quickly to gather your things, expecting Trey to leave after you've dismissed him. But when you drag your cello case around to leave, you see him still standing in the doorway, leaping towards your hand that rests on the cello case.

"Can I help you? It seems heavy."

"I'm alright. I've dragged this thing around this school, I am perfectly capable‒" When you go to lift the full weight of the instrument however, a dizziness digs into your temples, nausea quickly following suit.

"Oh‒ are you alright? Are you not feeling well? Let me at least help you with your instrument back to your dorm."

You stare at him, feeling your power rise within you, waiting for his thoughts to flood through your system‒ a confirmation to your suspicions you filter every person through, to pick them apart.

“You’re hurt.” He goes to examine your hand, you pull back.

"They don't look so well. Maybe they need something to eat? I should whip them up something after I help them carry this back to their dorm. Hm. Yeah. That sounds good. Something hearty."

Those words are inspected with great skepticism in your mind before the dizziness takes over, muddling your brain to a jumbled mess. Whatever, you think. He seems harmless enough.

“Fine” As soon as that curt response slips from your lips, you cringe internally. You clear your throat, attempting to redeem yourself. “I’ll take up your offer if that's alright with you. Pretty boy .”

He seems to hold the air in his throat when you give him that name, before he releases it in a puff of laughter. "Pft. Alright, yeah. Let's get you back to your room before you spout any more nonsense."

"Me?"

You're a bit taken back from his internal response. But you trail behind him, the weight of the nausea lifting slightly off your steps.

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"What kind of cocoa powder did you use?"

"I think…just the regular brand stuff."

"Use Dutch processed next time. If you activate it correctly, the alkalizing process gives the batter a richer color and flavor."

He had somehow used his devilish charm to string you into this, you tell yourself, sipping on the tea you brewed for the both of you. But it would be rude to kick him out of your quarters without a proper thanks. You're no longer human, but you'd at least act civilized.

The tea has run a bit cold from the two whole hours he's managed to rope you into a conversation on baking techniques‒ slipping out the same notepad and pen he pulled out that night you met, and a box of various pastries and baked goods that he seemingly prepared out of nowhere. Truthfully, you weren't supposed to eat human food without proper sustenance from blood‒ however the look he gave you had absolutely pleaded that you do. So, how could you refuse?

You clear your throat to break through your endless flood of doubts and excuses. "I heard you were looking for me during band practice. Now that you've wormed your way into my life by bribing me with sweets‒ what did you want from me?"

"Oh!" He pulls another, smaller box from the bag you saw him rummaging through for the sweets laid out before the two of you. "Ah‒ I forgot about this. It might be a bit melted since there's ermine cream on the top."

The simple white box is opened, revealing a similar cupcake that you (purposefully) forgot the night you met him.

"It's not the same thing‒ it might be better actually‒ I used buttercream last time but it's pretty heavy so I substituted with ermine cream this time." He remains composed but you can tell something is bubbling below it. "Tell me what you think."

" I'm so excited to see what they think…I worked hard on this recipe since it seems it wasn't up to their tastes last time."

You make a face when you hear his thoughts, wondering how absolutely normal someone can be. “You mean to say you came all the way here to deliver me…this cup cake?”

"Yes I mean‒ I don't mean to pressure you into eating it, obviously." His eyebrows bunch upwards in his usual sorry expression. "I just. Wanted to hear your thoughts. Since I haven't met someone this knowledgeable on baking techniques at this school."

People usually had ulterior motives when approaching others with gifts, kindness, words slathered in polite niceties and compliments. You eye him suspiciously as he calmly sips his tea, scribbling away in his little notepad.

Drawing a little closer to him, you lean against the table, feeling the heat of your crimson eyes when you concentrate your magic to wade through the noise‒ pulling the thread of his thoughts from it all. It requires a bit of power through your ear plugs and rising nausea, but you manage to unravel it.

" I'd really like to get to know them better. Friends, maybe . Cater says I should get out there more, this is what he meant, right? "

It was impossible to ignore the truth of the matter‒ that the person sitting in front of you is so absolutely unbearably bare, plain. You'd thought you'd seen clarity before, in how salient the cruelty of people was, but you had been wrong. No doubt this was true clarity‒ the candor of normal, mundane life that you normally blocked out with the rest of the noise of the world. The tonic of human lives rarely interested you, but it seemed like all this person was, and it seeped deeply into his treatment of you. Normal, bare, plain.

Human .

It was so baffling you could not suppress the smile that spread on your lips.

Ah, maybe just for today, you think. Just this one conversation. Just one moment, and I'll forget the taste of human life again.

"Hm, alright. Just this once, pretty boy ."

The sugary cream melts instantly in your tongue, and the airy sponge is sweet when you swallow your determination to forget this honey sweetness he brings. A hint of vanilla, cinnamon, sugar, spice, and everything nice. You let it settle deep in the dark of your belly, feeling the warmth still lacing through your blood from the tea you've sipped with him slowly cool under your flesh. You devour it all, with his words and smile, hiding it deep inside so you can’t remember its sweetness.

But the honey you've added at his request still runs golden sweet on your tongue. You roll it through your mouth, trying to extinguish the taste, but it spreads further, coating your throat as you swallow it. Unlike the contents of the cupcake, it runs raw against your flesh, and you must wait until it seeps deeply into the fibers of your throat before it dissolves.

The hours pass as you talk with him, but the sweetness does not fade.

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"You alright?"

The silvery tone of your voice breaks through Trey's thoughts. He had been lagging behind the Heartstlabyul group to take a break from all of the frenzy of today. The responsibility, the pressure. You'd been with them a moment ago, mingling as you always did, but now you've slowed your footsteps to match the slight drag of his own‒ something he's sure you've noticed. Heat tingles at his cheeks‒ he doesn't know whether it's from the way you've broken his image so swiftly with your keen eyes, or if it's from, simply, your thoughtfulness. For him, of all people. For him.

"Yeah, fine. Just tired. Today has been such a long day with these underclassmen."

His laughter rings clearly, even though the obstruction of your ear. With each note emanated from his lips, you feel it slipping through the cracks of the foundation of your feeble resolve, crumbling so endearingly that you smile sincerely when he speaks. It had been disgust, revolt at first, feeling the distance between your world and his inching closer and closer‒ but before you could notice the absence of nausea stinging through your chest and stomach, you felt the feather-lightness of your own smile chiming with his own, completely eclipsing the discomfort you had felt previously in the proximity to other lives. To him.

"You need to relax more. Stop fussing over these no good children." You massage his shoulders in a playful manner.

He feigns pain then quirks that smile on his face‒ you know the one, the one where he bunches his eyebrows and laughs with the back of his throat. In that moment, you're as confident as ever, charging him with laughter‒ letting your inhibitions lose. Control didn’t matter, for a moment. The world doesn’t seem so sharp at that moment, like you were going to tip over the edge.

When the pads of his fingers brush against your fingers, all that sense you had withers so easily in your chest. Through his shoulders, you can feel the vibration of the hum he emits in agreement, a musical accompaniment to the warmth that radiates from his hands.

"Maybe. They're good kids. You're right‒ maybe I do need to relax." You retract your hands from him, allowing him to toss his head over his shoulder. "Any tips?"

The seconds you weigh out whether to lie or not seem to shorten with every moment you spend with him. "I guess…music. I like to sing some of the warm-up pieces I used to know.”

"Warm up for what?"

"Ah for the…church choir."

Liar .

He makes a face, an airy laugh escapes your nose. "What?" You ask.

"...you just don’t look like a religious person.”

You look down at your feet, a slight smile as a comfort to him. “I haven’t been in a while. I don’t think I’ve had faith in anything in a long time.” A quiet lull in your words.

Your stomach turns. It's always a look of pity, or some casted look that drags you as some pathetic creature, cold and inhuman. The words die in your throat, you quiet your breaths, feeling then stick to the prickly flesh of your lungs and throat.

“I get it.”

But the look Trey gives you as he digests your words is a sadness as sincere and clear as water. It was not such a clawing, dried look that transformed you into something you didn't want to be. Instead, he swallows your words whole, as they were, his gaze reaching far beyond the pain. His sound‒ clear as a summer's day, dotted prettily with the honey lemon droplets of his gaze‒ finds you.

“I got you.”

A tranquil, silvery symphony‒ each sweetened thread weaving itself magnificent, deep within your nerves. It takes everything to pull yourself from it.

"Now, I have the perfect blend of tea for you then, darling. It goes wonderfully with those lemon shortbread cookies you made yesterday‒ absolutely divine."

Quick to shake the feeling off, you mask the dread of warmth with your usual stupid passion and fire that carves an expression of slight surprise into Trey's face, just for a moment. But it surprised you, instead, to see that it dissolved completely, and replaced with an elated burst of laughter. It takes him a moment to gather himself, and many more for you to do the same with the words he says.

"You're actually a really good person, (Name)."

The feeling returns, swiftly.

You don’t want to breach into the borders of his mind, but you found yourself reaching for the silvery thread of his sound from the noise, picking apart the gray mess of things to find that glimmering thing. Your mind had learned the scent, the exact hue and melody of his inner voice to be able to pluck it so naturally from everything else, and you were growing fearful that you had committed yet another thing to memory that would eventually be lost to time. But the words that you hear from him‒ you think it will consume you for the rest of your eternity.

"God. You're wonderful."

It nearly chokes you to hear such clarity in that declaration. Foolish . You think. Only a fool would say such a thing. You fix the shades slipping down your face, turning your energy to block out any sound and voice.

"You flatter me, my dearest."

Lucid, pure. His voice. His laughter. It wasn't just noise to you anymore. You think of what chord his voice would be, how it would sing against your fingers on your cello. Or perhaps a heavenly instrument would be more befitting.

"But you've got me all wrong."

You smile. Perhaps you were the fool.

A few weeks later, he admits: "Truthfully, I tried to avoid you best I could before we officially met. Because of your blase attitude and the rumors about you‒ I thought I wouldn't mesh well with people like you."

"Is that so?" A wolfish smile curves onto your lips, eyes turning crescent. You fiddle with the flier for the monstero lounge show coming up, debating whether or not you should have really accepted Azul’s request. "It seems most people think I'm that way."

"Yeah. But I'd like to think you opened up to me a bit, and I discovered something about you that made me want to talk to you. You're real strange, you know that?"

"Oh, I'm the weirdo? I'm not the one whose hobby is brushing their teeth."

"Dental health is important." He states matter-of-factly, before his hardened look is broken with a breathy laughter. "But really. I would have liked to be friends earlier in my life if I had just known you were the way you actually are."

You remember his words, turning your eyes downwards. "I'd really like to get to know them better."

Hesitation curdles in your mind, but the words come instantaneous, eager to his statement. "Which is?" Perhaps too eager, you shrink.

He hums, thinks for a minute. "Just‒ kind ." He says. "I never noticed before, but you're always making sure people are included, checking on people. It's like a sixth sense‒ you can easily pick up what people are thinking, but also feeling. Like a guardian angel or sorts."

You stare at him with a blank look, a breath in your lungs that doesn't make it past your parted lips. Then, gaze downwards, again.

"I wish more people would know how much good you have."

It takes great effort not letting his words sink deeply into your heart, constricting it. Sometimes, when you replay the scene in your head at night‒ an inevitable occurrence when he's on your mind‒ you try your hardest not to let it well something inside you so floridly that it bleeds heavily in your chest, and sprouts the salt in your eyes. But, it does. Idiot , you think, if only you knew what I really was.

You make a noise, unclear yourself as to your response to his statement, crushing the flier in your hand. Attempting to redeem yourself, you casually begin rolling the balled up paper in your hands, giving Trey an exasperated expression.

“What’s that?” He points to the paper.

“Oh‒ nothing. An Azul thing. Or a Monstero Lounge thing. Whatever, I’m probably going to bail on it anyways.”

“An Azul thing?” The hint of disappointment in his tone confuses you. “Oh! the Monstero Lounge show that’s coming up? I’ve been looking forward to it‒ you’re bailing? Don’t let Carter hear you say that‒ he’s been talking about wanting to be in it for weeks.”

A smile quirks on your face. “Has he now?”

Trey nods. “Why are you bailing? I thought you had a real passion for playing?”

“Performance is another matter. You know, the difference between baking for yourself, and baking for other people.” Trey nods in understanding. “Besides, what makes you say that?” You make a face which fails to fully contain the disgust towards yourself. Passion. It curdles on your tongue.

“How do I put it…You…” He pauses, thinking. In a moment, his words flood forth. “Your expression seems heavier when you’re playing. But, maybe a good kind of heavy. You always seem light and bubbly, but now that I think about it, you never talk about yourself.”

“I don’t.” You confirm, a sweet smile.

“You don’t.” An averted gaze. “I never asked.”

“How unusual of you‒ mother of Heartslabyul.”

“So,” His gaze pulls you in. “What’s your favorite color?”

You take a moment to reply, a bit surprised that he would actually follow through with his words. You’re reminded of the reason why you were so taken with him in the beginning‒ despite his sheepish deflection of compliments, despite the playful smirk that curved on his face‒ his words always matched his actions, his gaze, his expression.

“Yellow. A lemony, summery yellow. Reminds me of the flowers my sister used to grow.”

“You just have one sister?”

“One and only. My older sister.”

“I’m envious. I’ve always wondered what it was like being the younger sibling.”

You chuckle, searching the vast landscape of memories stored inside you. “You know‒ teasing, fighting, hand-me-down clothes, the like. But I love her, especially when she makes her brioche bread.”

“You’re close with her?”

Time, space‒ the difference between you and the world, him. It comes in waves as always, flooding you, and your hands which search for distant memories. You’re not sure if it was his ignorance towards your nature, or plainly his presence that seemed to pull your discorporated humanity closer to you once more.

“Very. She’s my rock. She was the first to encourage me to pursue music.”

“Do you play other instruments?”

“Of course. Cello, piano, guitar, accordion, harp, violin, flute…” You trail on.

The conversation goes on, until the two of you notice you’ve been walking around the campus, completely separated from the others. You laugh about it.

When you separate, you watch him walk across the hills, his form roaring against the sunset. There’s a twinge in your stomach, which you swallow with great effort. The distance between you and him seemed like it didn’t matter for the vivid moments you spent conversing with him‒ but now with his back towards you, as he headed towards the light‒ the feeling wades back. You search through the flood as you always do, but you cloud your own vision when you look back to the things you said, the faces you made, the memories you shared. Blackened, like yourself. The sun hisses against your skin. At times like this, you’re reminded of your stunted development‒ you had forgotten what the sun does to creatures of the night.

It scorches your retinas as you look at the heart of the sun, but you let it‒ reminded of the sweetness of his honey lemon eyes.

Bitterly, it seeps.

------------------------------

Every time Trey stands by your door, for some reason, his nerves rise to the surface, tingling at his feet and the hand that raps at wood. He doesn't understand why his body gets this fussy every time‒ he's seen you a dozen times before. That crooked, fanged smile; the delightful way your hands move in conversation, the charming little way you hum when pouring him tea (2 sugars, a touch of cinnamon, just the way he likes it)‒ these are all things he's almost gotten used to that he doesn't feel near faint when you grace him with such pleasures.

" Pretty boy ."

He remembers the nickname you call him, along the standard " darling "s and " my dear "s you seem to call everyone else. Just for him, you've fashioned something that can instantly unravel him, much like now, as he waits in front of your door with fresh pastries. He feels special when you call him that‒ but it feels good, unlike the times he tries to undermine himself under a barrage of flattening statements that stomp out every potential for expectations . Like he could make a difference, a change in anyone or anything. He’s just a normal guy. Nothing more. Riddle was a vivid reminder of that.

Except when he’s with you‒ it feels extraordinary.

The millions of things that seem to arise out of conversation‒ the sheer possibility of what wonderful things he can share with you beats like thunder in his chest, reaching the tips of his ears where they flush. That fullness he felt before returns‒ the only way to alleviate it it seems is to converse and spend time with you. He hopes the redness at least dies down when he's around you, all his senses seem to fly out the window when you're by his side.

We're just studying together. That's all. He tells himself.

He secretly holds his breath when you open the door with the creak‒ but he releases it when his lips part in surprise at your state.

"O-oh. Hello, Trey." Rather than your usual, slurry, elegant demeanor, your voice scrapes against your throat‒ the sound coming small and frail, something Trey had never associated with you before. Elegant, honey-like, and sure of yourself‒ it was never like this. Diminuendo , he remembers from you, and his favorite piece that you play. Like you'd depart from him, where he could not follow.

You fix your glasses, feeling them slipping on your nose, before you run your hand through your knotted hair. The cigarette wedged between your fingers weaves smoke between the two of you, mixing with the smell of alcohol on your breath. "I'm afraid something came up, darling. I have to cancel today, I'm sorry I didn't ring you in advance." You go to close the very small gap you've allowed yourself to open‒ Trey stops you before you can. The bold move surprises even himself.

"...You're sick? In that case I could‒"

" D-don't touch me." A crackle in your voice, fear striking your expression. "A-apologies. No. It's fine. You musnt do anything for me."

"But I want to?"

The prickly air that had been kindling on the inside of your lungs flares all at once at that moment, puncturing something inside.

"You don't know what you want." You spit.

" Oh‒ what?"

"I said you don't know what you want. But allow me to make it easier for you. You don't want this. So go away‒ get out of my sight ."

Hellfire. It stains you.

"I‒" He swallows the lump in his throat. "I-I don't understand?"

"I said . Get away from me, Trey ." His name comes cold on your tongue. He feels it coil around his spine.

What are you saying?

"But‒"

You launch the door open, almost breaking it off the hinges. The crimson of your eyes glow in your power as you bare your fangs, clawing the wood of the door with your sheer grip. A lurching feeling wells inside you, as you grow in size, in power, in sharpness. All the qualities that separate you, from him.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME."

You don't recognize your voice. Trey's feet crumble from underneath him as you tower over his form. With the fear that seeps into his eyes, you decide it's enough, and shut the door with a slam.

You swallow the breaths that come faster than you can handle, looking down at the chips of wood that embed into your nails and fingers, beginning to bleed. You lean on your table, raising one hand to grasp at the root of your hair, catching a glimpse of the crimson glow that emanates off your eyes. The hair that falls in front of your face cages you in that bloody vision‒ red, and violent.

This is what you are, it's what you've always been and always will be. A monster . Fanged, clawed, hideous‒ thick, violent strokes of inky black on one of those books the priest used to carry around with him. Swirling into a void so corroded of color‒ the truest black‒ immortalizing your revolting form, permanently baring your fangs, carrying hellfire in your eyes and throat that you’d swing senseless with an animal violence. Fixed in that abstracted abyss, forever‒ eternal as you are. How pitiful that you choke on your own sorrow.

You fall into a rage, your body dragging itself by the spine‒ swinging your hands and legs throughout the room. A sound tears from your throat, far from a human cry. Music scores from missed practices fly, used plates and cups tumble to the ground, chipping. Your ashtray falls heavy on the grand piano that sits at the center of your room, slamming down the heavy lid, reverberating the strings, hammering into the air a chaotic symphony of ash and disorder.

For a moment you think to pick everything up, tidy yourself up and make amends with Trey‒ but you know the drill by now. In a week, you'd come to terms with yourself again‒ all the things you make and destroy‒ and sever yourself from this place, and its people. In just seven days you'd swallow the bitterness of your own self as you always had, clean your mess, throw the pieces you'd broken away. It ends all the same.

Before you know it, you have a half empty bottle in hand, the days old wine weighing heavily in your palm. You twist your body furiously in attempt to rupture the surfaces of rage you have rising like fire inside of you, to at least reach to the gnawing feeling inside your chest. But it grows even restless, even hungrier‒ eating away at the breath in your lungs and the beat of your heart when you come face to face with your reflection. Nothing.

What sort of monster doesn't have a face?

You couldn't have even be given that, to be remembered and touched‒ even if it was fear and abhorrence‒ to exist as a creature who is seen, and heard on their own. You were merely an image created by others.

Control‒ you never had any of it, ever since your mouth was held open by its hinges and forced to down that creature's blood. It was laughable to even call yourself a musician, a conductor, a person. There was not a moment in your life where you had genuinely orchestrated the fullness of musicality, or anything. When you plucked on the strings of your cello‒ it was always just that. Noise. There was nothing inside of you that could transfigure that dead noise from the strings into something meaningful, something that could exist in the realm of adoration. Loved .

Don't you want to be loved?

How could you be? You're just‒ this .

Crumbling to the ground, you sob, remembering the fear laid plain on Trey's face.

Surely‒ he’s gone. If you had ever held him in that way, at least. Arm’s length, prickled air‒ you had been weaving this inevitable goodbye yourself. Regret curdles heavily in your stomach as you bring your knees to your face on the floor.

I was doing so good. I was good again‒ I am good. You clench your jaw, imagining those portraits of violence from the Supreme Leader’s book. A realization‒ fuck . Nausea rises to your throat.

You want to sleep. Or drink. Or smoke. Something to sedate you out of this emptiness clawing itself all over your insides.

A knock startles you out of your daze. You assume the door is broken by the sound of the rusty hinges creaking open, the light of the hallway pouring behind you. A silhouette‒ but you don’t want to be found, or seen. You stay quiet, hoping he just leaves. Forever, maybe.

“(Name)?”

His footsteps creak against the floorboards, inching closer and closer. You wish you had the energy to tell him to leave again. Instead, you bury your face in your hands.

You hear him shuffle a bit, close to you on the floor.

His breath tickles the hairs on your arm, his voice reaching far into your head, the vibration from his throat rippling to your empty chest. “I’m not leaving.”

With some kind of divine courage, you speak. “Why won’t you?”

He shuffles closer, lacing his fingers through your tangled hair. “Because it seems I like you too much.”

“You’re a fool.”

You were the fool.

“Birds of a feather flock together.” He says, matter of factly. “Because you’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave you here. You…”

You feel him swallow, pausing his hands to hold your head at the crook of your neck. “You’re special to me.”

“I’ve got you.”

It feels like you're being enveloped completely by him‒ his smell, his sound. It smells faintly of candied violet, vanilla, and your honey lemon blend of tea. Trey thinks it complements well with your smell. Old books, and well-read letters tucked preciously into cookie tins. Faintly, iron.

In a shaky voice, you apologize. Over and over. "I-im so sorry.There's something wrong with me." He rubs your shoulder, measuring his movements carefully so as not to overwhelm you. "I'm sorry I'm this way. I-I didn't mean to yell. I didn't mean to send you away. I want you here. I-I'm sorry. I lied. I’m a liar.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We all have our things‒ we’re human, right?”

You cry harder. "No, you don't understand."

"Are you fae?" He asks, looking at your pointed ears and teeth he'd seen in the students in Diasmonia. "There's nothing wrong with that. You're still‒"

Wonderful .

He chooses his words with care in your state. “- my friend.”

You swallow the bitter taste in your mouth. "N-no. I'm nothing of the sort. I-I…" Everything is so unbearable‒ you're unbearable . Your fangs pierce into your lips when you bite down, suppressing the wailing pressure that threatens to leak from deep inside your throat. It burns all the way down when you swallow it, only leaving you with a portion of your dwindling volume.

" I'm a monster ." You spit, looking directly into Trey's eyes‒ like you did moments before‒ hellfire stirring within them. The palms of your hands face him, framed with the sharpened claws of your hands that spot with blood from the splitters still embedded within them. Slowly, you furl them onto yourself, drawing red upon your palms when they ball into fists. "A vampire‒ like the ones you know from books and stories. That's me ."

That is all I am.

Your vision blurs, and you tuck your limbs into yourself as if you brace for impact.

Instead, softness‒ honey lemon eyes, sweetness, golden.

"You're hurt."

You make a sound through your sobs when he takes your hands. Impossibly soft, feathery under your own, he picks the sharpness out of them. The blood is wiped away with his handkerchief, staining the light clover green fabric with blots of red. Now it's dirty , you think. I’ve poisoned it.

"You're not a monster." He says, unfurling your hand further, prying apart your sharpened fingers from your palm. They twitch at his words.

"I tried to hurt you‒ send you away.” You feel like your throat is going to collapse.

He’s quiet for a moment, you can see him roll his saliva through his mouth, and the doubt and anxiety which passes across the movements of his downwards eyes. A barbed look‒ you feel it prickle familiarly against yourself‒ so you ever so slightly inch your pinky towards his hand that rests near your own, making a small gesture with your pinky to intertwine it with his‒ I’ve got you .

A heavy breath pushes past his lips. “People do that all the time. I get it‒ I mean‒ I know how it feels to be anticipating the color and tone of people’s faces. I grew up doing the same. From a certain point‒ you can kind of sense when people begin to tear themselves away from you‒ like you thought they would do eventually‒ it’s kind of a relief, isn’t it? To confirm that the distance you were placing between people at least did something .”

You nod, giving him a small quirk on the lips to agree. He continues. “I’m really just a normal guy‒ you know? I don’t really have the power to change things, or have an effect on people. Like you do.”

“Me?”

He hums, rounding his expression with a small curve on his lips. “You light up the room. You charge everyone with a certain energy. A je ne sais quoi .” He jokes‒ you laugh. “It’s probably a lot of pressure, a lot of fear. But you face it. I like that about you.”

“ I’m not like you .” You hear from him. You want to remind him‒ you're a fool.

“You-” You gulp. “You do that for me too. You light up my day. But‒ I don’t know. I feel bad feeling these things. It’s like I can’t wait, you know?”

Trey scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Can’t wait for what?”

“I can’t wait. For the moment you‒ or people‒ leave, like you said. I’m always anticipating it. I digest people inside of me‒ pick them apart. I’m really not a good person. Sometimes there’s just something inside of me that switches when I’m faced with anything pointing to people confirming my suspicions‒ like I’m always tipping off the edge. I don’t know‒ people are…” A baited breath. “Bad. And I’m something a lot worse.”

Trey takes your hand again, drawing circles with his thumb.

“I don’t know who I am. I have no reflection, no substance, no form‒ nothing . All I know is that I’ve been emptied to carry this filth that terrorizes me‒ and whenever I lash out at it, I end up hurting other people.” The afternoon light that weaves in between the curtains illuminates a streak of dust and smoke in the room. “My story ends all the same. Like any good fabled monster.”

“What if this time it ends differently?”

A weary smile wobbles onto your lips. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” You stand, dust yourself off, and offer a hand to him. He accepts.

“It will.” His assertiveness almost surprises himself, but he reminds himself why‒ it’s you .

“Why‒ aren’t you certain?” Bitterness seeps your tongue.

“You’re the reason for it. You’re all that.”

There’s a feeling that wells inside you that replaces the tension that slips from your shoulders‒ something a tinge sour, sweet, and warm. You don’t search for the underlying tones and clandestine beats of his words. Clear as day‒ you accept this feeling. Hesitantly, you lean against him, soaking with the feeling that seems to also radiate from him.

“You’ll stay today?”

Trey feels you relax against him.

“For as long as you'll have me.”

He doesn’t let you go.

------------------------------

"I've never seen snow before I came here." You watch the soft speckles of white float gently down from the skies. "I'll never get tired of this scene."

Trey slows his pace a bit, so you can linger on the white landscape. "Really? Not even in the Queendom of Roses?"

You nod. "The island I lived on before I was exiled was exceptionally warm. I wasn’t allowed‒ ”

Quickly, you shift your words. Control.

“-I wasn’t much of an outside kid, on account of the whole sun thing before potions could handle it. And after I had left I hopped from one island to another‒ most of them were too warm to have snowy weather. And when I visited the main island it was always during the warmer seasons.”

You remember the supreme suggesting warm climates‒ quiet, sunny peaks in the outlands, away from people. Those suggestions grew on you with time. You liked warmer climates anyways, . The room you had at the temple had always been cold and damp, the only light that would peek through snuck in through the stone that had eroded over years of negligence. You shiver.

"I don't like the cold, too much. But the snow is beautiful."

You suddenly feel wool, warmth on your neck. Trey fixes his scarf on you, you almost jump away, but after the initial moment of surprise, you relax into his scent that has melted into the wool. Lavender . He always smells like sweet floral, you note. It reminds you of the patches of grass and wildflower that would sprout sparingly in the parts of your room where the sun would kiss‒ the dew that would form on them like opals would be sweet like the fragments of light that wove in soft petals on the hard stone flooring. When you touched that light refracting in honeyed rays in those small drops of water the morning chill brought, you could remember a fraction of your humanity. Summer like a warm blanket and the crickets that chirped outside while you and your sister sat beside the window sill, giggling at the lantern light. The verdant coolness that swept the bakery while you helped your papa prepare the bread rolls for proofing. Silly, small things. It could make you cry, even now, as Trey diligently wraps the scarf around your neck.

“...You were exiled?” He chooses his tone, his words very carefully, softness like velvet honey.

You smile, a shape meant to comfort him. “I was. My hometown was very poor. People needed something to believe in, and they already had their hero.” Supreme leader, in his gilded cloak. "You're going to catch a cold‒ and this scarf‒ it's from your siblings, is it not? I feel bad, you shouldn't give stuff so easily to people." Despite your words, dive your nose deeper into the yarn, threading your claws carefully within the chunky pattern.

"I’m warm enough‒ besides, you wear things like this well.” He finishes fussing with the scarf. The warmth that had welled into the wool from his skin melts into you like cotton candy‒ sweet and soft. “And you’re cold, aren’t you? If I catch a cold I’ll just have you take care of me.”

You press your cold fingers onto his bare neck to hide the rosy heat coloring your cheeks. With a shiver and a smile, he yells "Hey!" while laughing.

"Well I guess I have no choice then.”

A moment of silence after your laughter dies down‒ Trey hardens his expression. “You’re still shivering. The blood supplements haven’t helped?”

A sigh pushes through your nose. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t feel too keen on asking hospitals for donations either. I’ll be fine, pretty boy.” A curt smile curves onto your lips to reassure him.

Trey makes a face. “What if you get sick again?”

The smile you wear tightens. “I’ll be fine .”

“It’s worrying.”

“I don’t need it.”

The silence of the snowfall roars against your ears when he says‒ “What if you fed off of me?”

The dense crunch of your footsteps packing the snow stops as your chest rises and falls with a thickened rhythm.

“Don’t joke about such things.”

“I wasn’t.”

"Then don’t say stuff like that. I said I don’t need it."

"But you do! Look at you! You're emaciated‒ a few days ago you were barely standing!"

"That's‒"

"It’s not healthy, you know. You need blood to survive."

“It’s scary to see you like that.”

You’re genuinely taken back from his internal voice, a slight treble which rings against your ears. “I don’t understand. Why would you be scared?”

His answer is instantaneous, exasperated. “Because you’re my friend.”

You bite the words climbing your throat. As much as it pained you to see Trey like this, you could not swallow that thought threatening to simmer through your lips, a burning notion that had engraved itself into every piece of yourself.

I don't need you I don't need you I don't need you I don't need you I don't need I don't need‒

"Why won't you accept this offer? Accept me?" It chokes you to hear him like this‒ but the familiar nausea that seizes your throat overpowers it.

Because I could never make up for it. Make up for it being me that you choose.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“ Fuck‒ yes I will!” You hiss. Quieter, you muster. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I will. I’m made that way.”

His silence drives a hot coal down your throat‒ prompting you to push down that blackness that gnaws at you.

“Sorry‒ I‒” A release in the tension of your shoulders. “I apologize. I was just…overwhelmed. It’s a serious proposition‒ you really shouldn’t take it so lightly. I haven’t interacted so much with my own kind but from what I heard, it would be almost a lifelong commitment. At least for you that is. When you die, I will..." You attempt to swallow the tightness in your throat- a hunger. "I will not forgive myself."

“I’m sorry‒ I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. We should talk about it more‒ alright?” He rubs circles with his thumb across your skin, and you feel the ridges of his fingers drawing shapes. “But if it’s regret you worry about‒ know that I would never regret spending my life with you. At any capacity.”

There were stories you heard of centuries after you were reborn as a vampire about beautiful things spun by poets and artists. To reach to the monster‒ approaching it with gentle softness rather than stakes and silver. Risking sharpened teeth with lethal maws, defying the hardwired fear and repulsion against something that has tremendous capacity for violence. Saintly, divine touch. You had deemed it one of the most beautiful things‒ sublime, and completely unfathomable to you.

But when Trey reaches to you in that moment‒ in your moments‒ you think‒ this is what it is. This is what it must feel like to be touched by something beautiful. This is what it must feel like to be touched by god. You almost understand the Supreme Leader, in a way. You understand faith ‒ it’s a terrible thing.

He cools the tindering hellfire in yourself with his touch. It burns as a searing stake through your chest.

He doesn’t let go as you walk through the ashen landscape.

------------------------------

He makes you promise you’ll talk about it. And you do‒ hesitantly accepting his proposition with a box in hand.

“I think it’s a good time to give you this.”

The smell of oak flushes his nose when Trey draws closer to inspect the intricate honeysuckles that weave through the wood.

It’s an old, tattered thing‒ something given to you when you were young by your parents. The flowers were meant to be a gesture of nostalgia and deep affection‒ and you manage to remember the fragments of your mother’s many sayings‒ something about always been meant to be with you, how she felt a strange sense of reunification when she had bore you and your sister.

A bitter taste spreads on your tongue when you move the box towards Trey, and the contents inside clack against the wood. How furious she would be if she knew what you had done.

"What is it?"

“ Insurance .” you answer, quickly.

He gives you a confused look before taking the box into his hands, opening the rusted latch on it. You only hear the eroded hinges creak as he cracks open the chest, the speckles of rust falling onto the table.

You made sure there would be enough to pack the box‒ but it seems that there is still some air when they rattle against the walls of the box. Sharpened to perfection‒ you hope they won’t wear down too much from this motion.

After a minute, there’s the same sound again, then the closing of the box before it’s shoved towards you‒ back fully in your vision once more.

“I don’t need this.” Strained, his voice comes thickly between his constricting throat ‒ a similar feeling proceeding to his chest, flaring at the ends of his fingers which tuck tightly into his palms.

The face he makes worries you.

For him, of course, but for yourself as well. You're afraid you're going to break right then and there, throat etched in silent shame‒ but you pull yourself together with a sharp, willow breath sucked into your lungs. You feel the air settle cold on your tongue, and it almost shakes.

"It's just insurance ." You say, opening the box. A wooden stake is rolled across the table to him. He averts his eyes as if it burns him. "If the time ever comes‒"

"If it comes?" The voice pounding heavily at the back of his throat raised with his breaths. He parrots your words angrily. " If the time comes? Then what‒ I have to kill you? I have to be the one?"

"I would like it to be you, yes."

He gathered his eyebrows further into the center of his forehead. "Me?"

"Only you. It could only be."

You hear his shaky breath. No‒ you feel it press deeply into your bones, a vibration that makes its way from the tremble of his fingers, through the table, into your own flesh, far inside you that its precise throb stretches the growing cracks he's made in your resolve.

"I can't."

"You must ." You feel your claws scratching against the leather of your gloves. "To protect yourself."

He feels terribly selfish, childlike for the quiet volume of his voice. "From who?”

You feel the hungry thing inside of you flourish at your own words. “From me.”

He calls out to your name. “I don’t think I could ever be afraid of someone who is so afraid of themselves.”

You have no response to that.

An inhale‒ before he continues. “You’re the reason to the certainty in my words‒ that’s not really something I had before. Nothing feels normal with you‒ but it’s the good kind. You‒” despite the situation, he laughs, cracking the expression you love. “-you really don’t know what you do to me, do you?”

A sharp finger presses against your palm to confirm this is truly‒ really‒ actually real. You doubt yourself, telling yourself that you somehow tricked him into thinking you were this good. It must have been all those pet names‒ the saccharine composition that had somehow trapped him into your siren spell.

He faces you with all his sincerity‒ revealing the sharpened claws of your hands when he slips the leather off of them. He holds them softly, hoping if his words don’t reach you‒ at least this language that you had both curated against each other, might. You feel that it does, unable to find a trace of deceit, doubt, or anything besides the honey lemon hue that basks you in all its sweetness.

For the first time in centuries‒ you feel the blood inside you churn warmly in your cheeks, your eyes avoiding his gaze.

“I suppose I didn’t.”

So of course, when he first allows you access to his blood‒ the first action you do is to cover his eyes above all else. He makes a small noise when your cold fingers fall softly on his eyelids.

Without even thinking, he reaches towards your hand‒ he sees the crimson light that weaves through your hands that eclipse into pitch darkness when he lays his hand on top of yours. In the darkness, his voice seems louder when he calls out to you.

"Can you move your hand?"

The fibers of his neck tickle against your stiffened breath.

"Not yet."

He feels your teeth open his flesh, his skin parting like a ripened fruit. The curve of your soft lips that cup warmly around the wound, leaning deep into his scent‒ to dive further into the sweetness of his blood. He groans as a moment of pain passes, but his sound relaxes‒ slurry‒ in his throat when he feels sweet pleasure, thick as honey, feathering from where he feels you feeding. His breath quickens, and you feel the warmth of his exhales. As close as a lover’s breath.

He lets out a shameless sound of pleasure‒ a whisper you drink in with his sweet ambrosia.

"Ah, this isn't so bad."

He feels the fingers you keep firmly on top of his eyes twitch.

"Sorry. 'M sorry." You mumble against his skin. His senses feel so jumbled, flooding as thick and raw syrupy mountains. He blindly accepts them‒ unlike your words, which he makes sure to affirm should not be so. I am not sorry, he thinks. You do not have to be either . There’s a tremble in your lips when he slips those words into the air, humming sweetly against his skin.

He doesn't trust his voice, but the heaviness that clouds his mind barely filters his thoughts.

"A-are you done already?"

"Mhm. Sorry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just need a minute." His chest slowly rises and falls. He notices he's gripping your hand. "Can you move your hand now?"

"Let me see you. I want to see you."

"Just a moment." Even in the sensory deprivation, your voice feels particularly far off. "Not yet."

Trey closes his eyes, waiting for the tight pleasure that still prickles under his skin to pass. When he opens his eyes again, he finds your hand gone, the sun seeping through his fingers. You're facing away from him, sitting at the edge of the bed, bloody handkerchief in hand, unnervingly quiet.

"I'm sorry if I caused you any pain. I'll go get bandages and some pain killers for you."

You turn a bit towards him, but he doesn't see your face. He grabs your hand before you could walk away‒ calling your name.

A beat of silence. "Yes?"

"..."

It seems his senses have returned to him when he confirms the weight of your trembling hand‒ how it feels a fraction of a degree warmer than before.

"Why can't you look at me?"

" Why won’t you show me your face?

Your expression?

You?

Are you smiling? Are you mad?

Why can't you show me?

Am I‒ "

"No ." Your back gives out as you press all your force into that word, making the bed creak when you fall into it. "No. It's not you. It's not you. I just‒" A breath. "I don't want you to look at me. While I’m like this. It is a mercy. ”

Waves of scrambled noise crash through you. You want to squeeze your hands over your ears, shut your eyes until all you can feel is the vast darkness, and your fading form within it. You’d congeal with that void, rot until there is truly nothing left of anything you had‒ to to the dust as dead and far as the remains of your home.

"I don't want to just look at you. I want to see you."

You don't trust your voice, so you shake your head. When you swallow the lump lodged in your throat, it tangles in your shaky breath when you feel his hands wrap around yours.

"I want to see you." He repeats.

The noise parts with the lightness of his voice. Slowly, you turn towards him. Instantly, his hands are molded to the curve of your shape, as if they were forged by the decaying whispers of your labyrinth heart. In secret, they were cast by your hearth, and now they are cooled, and formed around the salt and tears that etch florid down your face. These hands are made for you, you think. Only the starlight has come this close to your monstrous form. Only the starlight.

"I'm sorry‒ I shouldn't be so‒ this right now. But I just can't‒ I'm so sorry." The apologies bubble from your trembling lips, as you try to form a coherent thought. But the softness of which he touches the cruel sharpness of your form‒ it wells a crescendo symphony of desire that you withheld, lurching upon you all at once.

He pulls you in, tighter.

This was home. You had always stood at the edge of it, drawing a line before the entrance to remind yourself‒ you had not been welcomed yet. But he had always welcomed you. It felt as if some speck of his soul had always done so, with the relief you feel when you step within it. The room inside your heart when you merge your warmth with his does not feel so full‒ nor so empty. It is filled with potential. Future. Something that had risen from him, infinitely.

"Don't‒" you place your fingers over your mouth. "Not while I taste like this."

He breaks your lips with his words. “Trust me?”

The warmth that folds over you feels like a prayer. Have faith . When you open your mouth, flesh is at your mercy, but you do not bite down as you expected the thirst inside you would have. Stars, the world stripped of its layers until it was only you, and him. For once infinity does not seem so much of a curse.

You must be intoxicated by the sweetness of his blood. Bittersweet‒ it seeps.

"I'm not…" You gulp down the swaying warmth. "I'm not supposed to like you."

"But…?" His smile curves so high the whites of his eyes are almost completely eclipsed by his honey lemon hue.

You intwine your hand with his. Another prayer. "Foolishly, I do."

“It isn’t foolish at the slightest.”

“It’s alright.” You smile. “I’d like to be the fool for once.”

------------------------------

You fidget with your suit steps away from the spotlight, holding your cello with your other hand.

“Stop fidgeting.” Trey instructs you, flattening the creases you’ve made to your suit jacket. He smiles. “It’s just nerves, they’ll pass when you get up there‒ you’ve told me so before..”

“I don’t‒ I don’t know if I’ll be able to play it right. I haven’t been this nervous in ages.” You still straighten the tie around your neck. “Maybe I should tell Azul‒”

The cloth is straightened again, before he glides his hands to your shoulders, bringing you an inch closer to feel the warmth that radiates off his skin. “You’re going to be amazing.”

Your eyebrows crease. “How can you be so certain?”

“You’re all that.”

His hand guides you towards the curtains, lingering when his fingers reach yours before you step into the spotlight. Azul finishes your introduction as you look towards the audience, searching for a familiar face. You find his eyes, and there is no need for any magic, any power‒ for you to find the faith in his eyes. You let it guide your bow, and the strings vibrate like golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, marrying sweetly‒ your internal harmony guided by his sweetness.

The music swells, breaks, heaves‒ before it dies out once more. The lounge fills with the sound of applause, and you sheepishly smile again the few whistles and whoops your club-mates send your way. Each and every thread of sound resonates within your body, vibrating with color.

Once you get off the stage into the crowd, you see Trey march towards you, before almost knocking you down with the force of his embrace. You allow a bit of your power to spin him off his feet, before you separate‒ wanting to see the look on his face.

"Will you come with me?" You pull his hand away from the crowd, breathless in your excitement.

"Where?" He asks, similar in his bursting fruition.

"Out there. Here. Over there. Wherever."

He smiles, the warmth moves the beat of your heart to the tip of your fingers, back into his palm when you lace your other hand with his. You think‒ I'd be a follower, a devotee, a dog for this. Have faith. I've got you. It’s terrifying, and it shakes you with excitement.

"I can't wait."

------------------------------

Notes:

The book I mentioned the priest had is based on the real Dissertations Upon the Apparitions of Angels, Daemons, and Ghosts, and Concerning the Vampires of Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia that 18th-century Benedictine monk and distinguished biblical scholar Antoine Augustin Calmet wrote. It was actually a large source of inspiration to Bram Stoker's dracula. Basically a collection of reports and examinations of vampire/monster attacks emerging in eastern Europe during the late 17th to early 18th century. The accounts of the undead rising and infecting whole villages, reaping of their health and blood that were recorded in this compendium of monster attacks formed a lot of the imagery and characterizations associated with vampires.

Historically, bloodletting was a popular method during the 19th century to cure medical conditions, especially psychological‒ as it was based on the concept of humors. Fun fact, this is why there is a distinction between surgeons (“barbers”) and physicians, and is why the striped barber sign is red and white‒ red symbolizing blood and white the bandages. This method was used from everything from hysteria, insanity, and heartbreak, to things like scurvy and epilepsy.

Bloodletting, transfusions, and vivisections (experimental surgery) both appear in Dracula because they were the hot new science of the Victorian era. Stoker's father was actually a physician so a lot the medical cures and information in the narrative frame the work very closely to the social, religious, and medical attitudes during the period.

Though Victorians still believed the world of humors (ie blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm, or more commonly known by their four counterparts: sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlegmatic)- the era began to see a rise of Heroic medicine which sought to shock the body of its ills (ie bloodletting, drinking blood, etc etc)

During the New England vampire panic of the 19th century Victorian era, it was believed that consumption (Tuberculosis) had a strong connection with vampires and the “rise of the dead”, because of the seemingly unexplained rapid spread of this disease that would “consume” its victim and its family at an alarming rate (this was mostly just due to general hygiene issues and the cures for TB being syrups and elixirs of like literally just morphine and cocaine). TB victims usually had pale, emaciating skin, and in combination with how to identify a suspected vampiric corpse (ie grown fingernails = sharp claws; plump skin = immortality/fast healing); the common cures to TB other than those concoctions during the period such as bloodletting, blood drinking, and the “climate cure” (spending a lot of time outside in sunny, warm climates = aversion to the sun); as well as the spread of TB (highly infection, if one person got it in the home, it would spread rapidly to other members of the family = seems like that originally infected person was “consuming” the rest of the family members) kind of makeup the symptoms, physical aesthetic, and indicators of vampires we know today. Pre-Christian notions believed that a body could be “infected” by evil spirits, the concept of evil, etc.. if not buried properly, which translated into the Christian context as demonic or satanic influences entering the body. And because Churches were often the ones dealing with burials, and setting the precedent for burial rituals‒ they had a lot of influences in setting the precedent for burial rituals, how dead bodies should be handled, etc

Because of the strong religious influences during this Victorian romantic period, and the seeming “failings” of empirical science and thought‒ a lot of people turned to the church

Historically, during the New England vampire panic in the 19th century Victorian era, it was believed that consumption (Tuberculosis) had a strong connection with vampires and the “rise of the dead” because it would “consume” the entire family, beginning with one of the family members, then spreading to everyone else because it was highly infectious. This is why things like pale skin, and vampires needing to feed off of blood is a thing because it is connected to the symptoms and infection of TB (blood drinking was also a cure at some point??)

Everytime I'm like "should I add this ultra specific detail with an irl artist's name??? Does it make sense with the twst universe?? Ah whatever‒"

Anyway I choose Chopin for a lot of reasons. The primary reason was that his music moves me deeply (please listen to the piece if you haven't heard it before). He also suffered from TB (aka consumption), and most likely suffered through a chronic version of it his whole life, which caused a lot of suffering and medical complications through his youth, and into adulthood when rising to fame as a composer. This cello piece was the only sonata that wasn't on the piano, and was played at his very last public concert in Paris. He also had kind of a miserable love life because of his weak health (a condition he could not fix), I thought it would be an interesting connection with MC along with the emotional value the song has on its own.

BPD is very misrepresented and incredibly stigmatized in media especially but also the mental health and treatment spheres in general so I did a lot of not only personal introspection but also research on it as well. I thought vampirism would be a good metaphor for BPD because I imagine the concept of eternity and also having to physically drain someone of their life source would cause a lot of attachment and abandonment issues in addition to the feelings of shame and guilt that often come with having BPD (“why am I this way?”). The monstrous appearance described and often visualized in Dracula/vampire related films and media, as well as the myth that vampires don’t have a reflection also not only conceptualizes BPD and its affect on self image, but also visually narrates the aspects of mentioned shame, guilt, and self hatred that come with BPD and the emotional regulation issues that affect relationships. Anyways I not only wanted to do BPD justice because I feel like its very rarely represented in media accurately and with a happy ending, but I also wanted to explore

I didn’t want to go too in-depth with the cult stuff because I feel that could veer off track. I drew from my own experiences (I have a close family member in a cult), as well as some research + some inspiration from a game series called Faith: The Unholy Trinity. But of course the central ideas of isolation, salvation (under a specific pretense), and dependency are there.

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 6 months

Text

Devilish

A scare during the witching hour turns into something more pleasant than you thought it would.

Character; Trey Clover

Content; Gender-neutral reader, some fear but ends in fluff

Content Warning; Fear/anxiety, swearing

Word Count; 1.6 K

Author's Note; This is for @jade-s-nymph's TWSTober collab! I had a lot of fun writing this, plus this is my first fic/serious work featuring Trey ^v^ Please make sure you support the other writers and artists in this collab as well; and remember to reblog works that you enjoyed!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You woke up, a bit in a daze since you were just deep asleep, but the groggy daze of ‘Why am I awake… nevermind, I’m going back to bed’ quickly left your mind as a strong, acrid, smell filled the air; the smell of something burning. That grogginess quickly morphed into a slowly building and intensifying anxiety, but none of the smoke alarms were going off… you still got up though and turned on all the lights; you wouldn’t be able to rest easy until you found the source of the smell.

Room by room, you turned on the lights, and thankfully you didn’t find anything ablaze. Thinking about it, you didn’t even have anything on that could theoretically start a fire… better safe than sorry.

I mean, like, who wouldn’t wake up and not be freaked out? My brain is practically running around in circles and screaming FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! You thought to yourself, rubbing your eyes. You also knew full well that you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep after this, the anxious part of your brain making sure that you stayed awake until you either found the source of the smell, or it went away.

You ended your quest of trying to find the smell in the kitchen, but there was no sign of smoke or the ‘fire’ that your brain imagined engulfing all of your earthly possessions. Yet, you didn’t feel relieved, instead, you hunched over your counter and started scrolling through your phone, looking for answers.

‘what smells like burning rubber’

You got everything from phantom smells caused by hallucinations, to electrical fires, to skunk. You let out a sigh and massaged your temples. Yeah, I should have seen that coming. Go looking for answers and instead, I have more questions than I began with.

“Lovely,” you sighed, straightening yourself back up and looking up at the ceiling, “just lovely.”

It was honestly no use trying to go back to sleep now, since you were fully awake. Glancing at the clock, you groaned again; it wasn’t even four in the morning; what kind of sick joke was that?

You gave your clock the stink eye but started your journey back to your bed, maybe you could start reading that book you’ve been meaning to get into… or you could just scroll mindlessly through social media while nice and comfy under your blankets. But right as you reached the threshold of your room, three knocks sounded out.

You paused and listened. Knock, knock, knock. There they were again, but they weren’t coming from the front door, no. You were half tempted to pull the blinds back from the window, but if there was some creep knocking on your window in the dead of night, you would rather not come across them. So yet again, you went through your place, triple-checking that all the locks were secure. First a fire scare, and now this? Today wasn’t going great, was it?

All of the locks checked out though, everything was good.

Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

A third round of knocking, but this time it was louder, more insistent. And the burning smell was back, and you could taste it from how strong it was. It commanded all of your attention and wasn’t going to be ignored… it was consuming, hungry almost.

You were back in the kitchen, and thankfully(?) there was no more knocking, it seemed like three sets of three and it was done, but the smell, the smell. It was oppressive, and you started coughing, but despite the all-consuming smell of fire and burning, there was no smoke anywhere to be found; with the smell this thick, you would have been able to feel it.

You went ahead to turn on the light, but despite you flipping the switch up and down multiple times, the light stayed off. And the rest of the lights just shut off suddenly on your final flip of the light switch, plunging you into darkness, engulfing you in darkness and the smell of burning.

FUCK! You fumbled around for your phone, trying to get the flashlight on.

Knock, knock, knock. The knocking was back, and it was slower and louder than before.

Finally, your phone’s flashlight turned on, and from the darkness, a pair of glowing yellow eyes stared at you, unblinking and looking into you, as if trying to see your very being.

And you? You just stood there, frozen, barely even breathing, since hey THERE WERE GLOWING EYES IN YOUR HOUSE STARING AT YOU? HELLO?! WHAT?!

You tried to move, to even open your mouth so you could make some attempt to either scream in horror, or hiss obscenities at whatever was in your kitchen, but you were frozen. And as you stared back into the glowing eyes, they were getting closer, and changing from a startling, eerie glowing gold, to something more dull and warm; a warm hazel. Despite this change from unnatural to something more human, they still pried into your consciousness, as if looking for something.

Soon, the former-glowing-eyed thing that was lurking in the dark corners of your kitchen stepped into the weak light of your flashlight. By the time he — yes, he — had stepped into the weak cold light, his eyes had stopped glowing. But the smell, the acrid smell of something burning, was stronger than ever, and it was coming from him. Yet, he looked like a polite neighbour who would offer you some sugar if you ran out, but you knew that wasn’t what he was.

He cleared his throat, and fixed his glasses, still keeping eye contact with you which you couldn’t escape. “You summoned me?”

You blinked in surprise at the question. It was out of pocket, but this entire situation was entirely ludicrous when you really thought about it. But the green-haired man just blinked back at you, as if he was just as confused at the current situation as you were. It was almost comical in a sense.

Finally, whatever spell you were under, lifted. “No,” you said, still gauging what he was since human was only the form he was taking on. “No, I really didn’t.”

He offered you a polite smile, which was unnerving as it was charming; and if you were in a completely different situation, it would have you feeling at ease. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at end though, and your brain screamed DANGER! DANGER! RUN AWAY!

“You did though,” he chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t you remember? At the bakery?”

The bakery? … all you had gotten at the bakery was some sugar, flour, and some lemon squares. And you would have remembered him if you saw him at the bakery; since green hair wasn’t natural, yet it looked like it was for him.

You shook your head, “All I got was some supplies and lemon bars. I didn’t ‘summon’ you. And what do you mean by ‘summon’? Who are you? What are you? How did you even get in my house?”

He pursed his lips and looked at you pensively. “Must have been a mix-up then… you don’t seem like the type to summon…” He let out a deep sigh, and adjusted his glasses — apparently, both of you were not happy with your current situations. Also, you didn’t know if you should have been offended or not at that statement. “Can I see what you got?”

You nodded, bringing out the flour and sugar, which, judging by his lack of reaction other than saying, “That’s a good deal for that,” was not the reason why he just spawned in your house. But then you showed him the half-eaten container of lemon bars, with three still left over.

“Ah, looks like there was a mix-up,” he chuckled. He turned back to you, with your citrus confectionaries in hand. “These are demon bars, not lemon bars. Eating them summons, well, a demon.”

A demon… A DEMON?! You balked at him, looking from the traitorous sweets to his bashful smile. And no wonder they tasted devilishly sweet… You knew it was bad going shopping on an empty stomach, and now you were dealing with the consequences.

“No offence, but uhhhh, how do I… send you back?” You were going to say ‘get rid of you’ but you didn’t want to offend the guy; he seemed polite enough, but you also didn’t want to test your luck either. “And what do I call you? Since I don’t want to just call you ‘demon’?”

The demon brought his hand to his chin and looked at you.

Man, his eyes are pretty when they aren’t glowing in the dark— WHAT AM I THINKING?! GET A GRIP OF YOURSELF! You dug your fingernails into your palm to stop your wandering, and sleep-deprived, thoughts from skipping merely down a rose-tinted road.

He looked at the ‘lemon’ bars (apparently it wasn’t just a fancy cursive L then) and looked back up to you. “Trey, you can call me Trey.”

Like a serving tray? Or three in Spanish?

“As for sending me back? Well, you didn’t know they were actually contracts, so I think if we make three more of those bars you should be good.” He nodded at the end.

Your night had taken multiple turns; from you thinking your house was aflame, to being scared half to death by Trey in your kitchen, to now making demonic-infused lemon bars in your kitchen at four in the morning… at least you made it out with your soul intact with the whole experience only costing you some ingredients, which you could always get more of… and maybe you even made a friend in the process?

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @azulashengrottospiano, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

#spooky chattering 2023 #twstober #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #trey clover x gn reader #yes the misreading demon as lemon is from that one photo of 'the grocery store is selling demons for 99 cents' ; ily if ya got the referenc #and this is also the character that was 'hey there demons it's me ya boi' in my poll to choose a character #also technically a late birthday fic for him #also inspired by me waking up smelling burned popcorn and finding out that it was a skunk (sadly no trey or lemon bars)

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humbletumblecrudi · 1 year

Note

May i make a request for a pt.2 for the azul x cook! Reader headcanons but with the characters trey, ruggie, jamil and jade?

Writer's Note(s): I can do that, this one will seem a little shorter because it has multiple characters and I don't want any repeats (especially since Trey, Jamil, and Jade are food experts themselves).

Info on Reader: Reader is intended Gender Neutral, using they/them and you/your. Reader is a good cook (chef) more than a good baker (pastries/bread), but no other skills are mentioned. No Reader description is given. Reader can be Yuu or an OC, it's flexible.

Ships: Trey, Jamil, Ruggie, and Jade × GN!Reader who can cook.

Fujoshis DNI || Everyone enjoy!

ＴｒｅｙＣｌｏｖｅｒ || トレイ・クローバー

He'll be surprised, yet relieved that someone can cook and knows not to abuse the kitchenware. He'll also be pleasantly surprised that you chose him to be your taste tester for the meals you make. He would also not turn you down if you made him a bento or lunchbox of any kind for class, it's very sweet.

What catches him off guard is when it happens four days in a row that you've made him lunch, and you leave with a, "I'll be back tomorrow." That makes him look at the lunchbox in surprise that, oh, your doting on him.

Truth be told, as long as you don't give him something that'll burn his tongue off with its spice, he'll eat it. He's not going to eat more than he needs to for his three meals so his teeth don't deteriorate, but he does thank you profusely for caring about him...

... But he does ask, with general curiosity and maybe Ace making fun of him in the back, "Why have you cooked for me everyday this week? I'm not complaining, I just want to know Any special occasions?" He plays it cool.

Of course, it's because you love him and you're very good at cooking, so why not make him something to eat everyday. At least this way you know he's eating healthy and it's what you're doing. Trey chuckles at that.

ＲｕｇｇｉｅＢｕｃｃｈｉ || ラギー・ブッチ

He's very happy to have landed you as a partner but he's chill about most things you both do. What he's not expecting, but will thank every good force in the world, was for you to be a very generous cook. He's not surprised you can cook, just that he got a generous cook of a partner! Hell yeah!

Does not complain that you feed him lunches everyday or about what you pack him! He's not going to complain if you made him grilled salmon and rice, a fruit salad and a lunch wrap, or fusilli and broccoli. He's eating it all.

The only reasons he questions why you're feeding him so much is because he wonders if you're financially burdening yourself for him. He usually wouldn't care and take the free food but your dating him, and he kinda... cares, y'know?

While getting lunch from you directlyーhe always gets them directly from youーhe pops his question. "Y'know, I've been wondering where you're gettin' all this food. Your dorm can't be finding this fun."

You tell him it's no sweat, because you make extras for Ruggie while feeding yourself. You honestly think of him while cooking, and Ruggie has never signed internally so hard! Thank goodness...

ＪａｍｉｌＶｉｐｅｒ || ジャミル・バイパー

He's not sure if he'll be lying if he said he's surprised he landed a partner. He can be honest and say he expected it later in life, but he's quite pleased with being your partner, you're very talented and he likes that. Seeing you use the community kitchen next to him and actually help with meals is nice, because he can trust you (and not have to taste test all the time like if there was a bigger group cooking).

Definitely was stumped but genuinely pleased about getting the first box lunch, and did enjoy the different flavors from just a lunch he made himself. The second day, it was a little unfortunate that he had made him and Kalim lunch already, but he'll save it for tomorrow...

Definitely wouldn't take offense to all the food, but he's thinking you and him might have to create a schedule for when it's good to make him food. The fridge at Scarabia Dorm is already filled on the regular...

He'll bring it up on a day you both are cooking for Kalim later that week to tell you. "Speaking of meals... We might have to plan your lunches and dinners a bit. It would be awkward if I let your lunch rot because I made my own lunch."

Yeah, that would be best, you have to agree and Jamil is thankful to have such an understanding partner.

ＪａｄｅＬｅｅｃｈ || ジェイド・リーチ

Oh, he's very pleased he managed to land a partner such as you and you treat him so nicely. He enjoys you as a person and he is very happy to decide he was worth your time... and he's totally not saying that because your food is very pleasing!

Jade is a foodie while also being a decent cook himself, so he's a bit too happy to take your lunches and definitely not eat it in front of Floyd and Azul. He's very grateful for your food and would actually prefer it over a school meal, just because it's yours.

But he does start making suggestions if you don't cook a lot of a certain type of food (because it's your weak point and/or you didn't think he'd like it) to get you on a cooking date. Definitely would share the Octavinelle Dorm kitchen with you and makes normal food without any of his special additions into it.

While he's cooking a sort of lunch for you in return for all you've done for him, he taste tests your dish with a smile on his face. "Quite splendid. I'm very happy you decided to take time to cook with me today... but you could use some mushrooms."

You want to tell him that mushrooms and what you're cooking can't mix, but then you remember it's not your lunch... and you give in. He gives you a kiss on the cheek for allowing the mushrooms.

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mellowwillowy · 3 months

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"Stop the wedding!!"

So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)

All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.

"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!

"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.

"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.

"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"

"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.

"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"

"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.

"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"

"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.

"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.

"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.

"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.

"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.

"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"

And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.

"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.

"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!

Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.

And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"

The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!

"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)

Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."

"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.

"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"

Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"

The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.

Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)

"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.

Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.

Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.

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bones4thecats · 21 days

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When Their S/O Meets Their Sibling(s)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: When Their S/O Meets Their Sibling(s) Characters: Trey Clover, Jack Howl, Jamil Viper, and Rook Hunt Idea-Giver: Random Ideas

A/N: I named Rook's siblings after the pieces of a chess-game as a headcanon! (btw they’re french names)

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🧁 Trey loves his family so much, and he really wanted you to love them just as much as he did, as they’re basically his whole world

🧁 So, when he received a message from his mother stating that they would be dropping by for a couple days for a small break from the family business, much to both his joy and nervousness

🧁 He was nervous that maybe his family wouldn’t like you or you wouldn’t like his family. And if it was the latter, he really didn’t want to break your heart…

🧁 You stood beside him outside of Heartslabyul as he put his phone away, he had read a message from his father saying they had just arrived and were coming to his dorm

🧁 Gripping his hand tightly, your smile made him sigh and kiss the hand holding his with such care and devotion. You really were perfect. How could they not like you?

🧁 As he spoke to his parents as you played with his younger siblings, his sister smiling as you gave her a small rose-spun flower crown as his brother messed around with a little set of toy vehicles you had gotten for Grim to mess with while Yuu busied himself

" I must admit, Trey. I’m surprised how amazing your S/O is handling those two. " " I agree with your mother. They seem so… content with them around. Unlike their last babysitter. I’ve never seen someone so happy to leave. "

🧁 Trey stared at you with his parents and smiled gently, he even had to admit, it was surprising how good you were holding them together. Normally the person watching them would be on the couch rethinking their life-choices, but not you…

🧁 And before his family left after the two days of vacation with their son, hearing his siblings ramble about how amazing you were as they held tiny gifts you had made them, he knew you were the one

🧁 He can’t wait to see your reaction after graduation day

🐺 He really wanted you to meet his family. To a beastman of his kind, family is everything. They raised you and gave you a chance at life for crying out loud!

🐺 His family and his are very close, and that is shown multiple times throughout your relationship. The way he would smile gently when looking at the photos on his camera roll that contained his grandparents, parents, and younger siblings made your heart swoon

🐺 Because of how close he was with you and how close he was with his family, he was very happy when the ‘Family Day’ was announced to happen

🐺 He immediately had sent an email to his parents with the note that he wanted them to meet you, who was his new S/O, and hopefully his only one

🐺 When they had arrived, their tails all wagged as they hugged, you just smiled as your family walked away to speak to another one of your close friend’s parents, who were visiting him for the next few days to help with P.E. classes while Vargas was away

🐺 His siblings had gotten bored and pulled you away from their older family members, asking you if you had anything fun to do, much to your enjoyment

" Y/N! Lookie what I made! It’s a drawing of you, grandma, grandpa, papa, mama, and big brother! " " Oh, that looks so cute, sweetie. "

🐺 Jack smiled as you gently held the drawings that his younger sister and brother made of you and his family, and once his mother and grandmother caught a glace, they couldn’t stop complimenting how good you looked alongside their son, much to his embarrassment

" You know, your son did a good job picking an S/O. " " I know. Honestly, I figured he’d go for a meat-head. Oh, how wrong was I? "

🐺 His tail wagged slightly as he overheard his grandfather and father speaking to one another, they really liked you? Now he knew for certain that you were a keeper

🐍 Jamil did not want to deal with his sister coming to Night Raven College, since she was known to be quite hard for him to handle, especially with Kalim there

🐍 When his sister did shoot him a text saying that she was just a couple minutes from school grounds and was planning on coming over after the day was over to see her brother, he groaned and asked her not too

🐍 Unfortunately, she was very stubborn, much like her brother. Not that he admits it

🐍 She did send him a small message saying that she wanted to meet his supposed S/O as well, but he had gotten busy keeping Kalim from jumping from his balcony and onto his magic carpet, so he had no chance to actually read the message

" Y/N! It’s so good to finally meet you. Let me just say my brother doesn’t stop talking about you over summer, it’s gotten annoying. "

🐍 Jamil watched with wide eyes and flushed cheeks as his sister and Kalim began discussing how much Jamil talked about you after your first year’s summer, revealing just how much he admired you back then until current day

" Okay! Let’s not keep this going, it seems that Jamil is flustered~ " " Shut up… "

🐍 Najma smiled and pat her brother’s shoulder with a laugh as she grabbed your hand and dragged you around Scarabia as Jamil followed you, her, and Kalim

🐍 He watched as you would smile and try keeping the two energetic people calmer than usual, thank goodness you had just as much patience as him when it comes to this kind of thing

" My older brother always raves about your eyes, saying they looked like the night and day’s sky, comparing the sun to the sparkles your eyes contain. He’s so cheesy! " " Right? I heard him talk about their selflessness with so much happiness that I thought he was another person! " " Alrighty then! Let’s calm ourselves, I don’t want Jamil erupting like a volcano… " " Aw! They care so much about you, brother! How sweet. "

🐍 The blush on his cheeks erupted at how calm you acted with him, you cared about him that much? Normally whoever discusses with his sister just agree that he’s an oddball

🐍 You really are an amazing person, huh?

🏹 Rook adores his siblings, both older and younger, very much

🏹 They are fairly similar to him when it comes to personalities, but they are quite different in their own unique ways, his oldest sibling, Leroy (King), for example loves to take photos instead of watch for a while like Rook

🏹 When he received a letter from one of his oldest younger sibling, Chevalier (Knight), saying that they were going to come by and visit him, he smiled and told you immediately, asking if you would care to meet his family

🏹 You just smiled and nodded at his enthusiasm, you knew he cared for his siblings and you very much, so you understood why he wanted you guys to meet badly

🏹 Hugging you from behind as he pressed his hat on your head to protect you from the sun’s strong rays, Rook’s signature smile seemingly was twice as large as he awaited the arrival of his multiple family members

" Rook! "

🏹 Turning around from the bench, Rook laughed with a booming sound as his three younger siblings, Chevalier, Évêque (Bishop), and Pionne (Pawn), jumped into his arms as his older ones, Leroy and Reine (Queen), stood and chuckled

🏹 Reine looked at you and pushed her hair behind her ear as he embraced you. This didn't surprise you, you predicted that all of the Hunt siblings were very affectionate and bold with their actions

" It is a delight to meet you, Y/N! Our brother sends us letters about you constantly! I must admit, it’s sweet to read how kind you are with our unique brother. "

🏹 Hearing that made your heart swoon as Rook nodded and smiled sweetly at his younger siblings, patting their heads as they showed him photos of things they had either caught or had made during the past few days

🏹 He is unique like they say, but he’s your kind of unique, and you wouldn’t change him for the world… despite Grim’s many protests while Yuu holds him back…

🏹 That cat was gonna be the death of you…

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kandyshoppe · 5 months

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The Dorms Bra Shopping Pt 1

Heartslaybyul (you are here), SavannahClaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomfoire, Ignihyde, Daisomnia, Staff/Others

Heartslybyul Dorm

Riddle:

If you ask him, he racks his brain for a rule that would forbade him, only to find that technically the rules say he HAS to help his beloved when asked upon if he is able

So, he reluctantly agrees, before researching the entire night before on proper etiquette and knowledge on bra shopping.

Ends up fairly knowledgably, and is fairly helpful minus his bright red face

If you ask for his favorite design, he goes for the more soft and girly, very feminine and gentle. Probably those with strawberry designs. He's a fan of the nightgowns because then they're technically clothes he would readily be excited to see. Err, more so least embarrassed about seeing those

Not a fan of looking at the bra and pantie sets because he gets embarrassed looking at panties, but he likes when they have matching socks.

Trey

just agrees, he's been bra shopping with his younger sisters before and isn't as embarrassed as most of the others. He is ready to carry your bags, say you look great in anything you show him, and then get something from the food court.

If you ask him to choose something, he goes for basics. Probably a sports bra and boy shorts, because those are comfortable (from his sister's perspectives), and he wants you to be comfy. Tries to find them in you favorite colour though!

Trey's a basic man, he likes anything as long as youre wearing it. (That's a lie, he likes deep or bright red that stands out against your skin, maybe with some lace! Those get him blushing and coughing into his fist)

While he doesn't know as much as Riddle on any medical stuff, like underwire being painful, or support needs, he is knowledgeable about the etiquette for bra shopping, very polite, and not creepy

Most excited for the food court afterwards. Gets some baked goods, and finishes off your shopping date by getting a matching keychain for you and him

Cater

flash backs to his sisters start coming through. Being forced to come along, stand there bored out of his skull as his sisters gab, maybe even try to dress him up! Not to mention the perfumes afterwards causing him to have allergic reactions, carrying pounds upon pounds of shopping bags, and being dragged around the entire day.

But, he loves you so he guesses he can come along. Ends up better than with his sisters because he's actively apart of the shopping this time! He's not used to having his opinion being asked, so he doesn't entirely know what to say.

He likes the funny ones the best, those for fandoms, or those with weird designs. really likes the ones with pizzas on them, but he does get a little weird by petting the bras and panties because the fabric feels nice.

But sexually, he enjoys the darker colours, black with some warm accents. cant look at you if you put on a corset or stockings! especially if they have bows, please don't do this to him!

He buys himself some nice new briefs while there, and a new cologne, before going home and magicaming about his amazing date (with a few pictures he keeps to himself)

Deuce

Agrees without entirely hearing you, so he's extremely surprised when you both arrive at the lingerie shop. Totally freezes and you end up dragging him into the store, it’s kinda funny to watch.

Stares at the ceiling the entire time, says yeah sure in a weirdly high-pitched voice he's so nervous. If you end up calling his mom, she can calm him down. He's still awkward, but follows you around and answers how he thinks you look, which is amazing in everything!

another who ends up petting the fabrics, and enjoys the blue babydolls the most, or more classy sets. He prefers the sets, makes you look so put together, and dominate. Covers his face and refuses to look at you if you tease him in a set.

He bought a pair of joke boxers with chickens on them and when you both finish he buys you both lunch at the food court, and tries to calm down from the panic attack he went through for that bra store. If you bought him a cologne though, he may or may not cry.

Goes home and screams into his pillow until he goes mute, he is collared and doesn’t care cause his brain is mush.

Ace

Thinks he’s got this, he was on a call for almost an hour last night with his older brother about how to act, and his brother gives pretty good advice! Don’t be a perv, always compliment something, offer to pay but don’t force it, always get food afterwards even if just a drink, ect,

Secret, he doesn’t got this. Second he gets there, all thoughts leave his brain. His brother would be smacking his head against a wall if he knew. Like, CLOSE YOUR MOUTH YOURE DROOLING! You push Ace’s mouth closed, and drag him in.

He tries to be a gentleman but just can’t stop staring at your chest, but he always compliments you! Even if he thinks it’s hideous he finds something, like the colour, or fit. He may even offer up some he thinks would look good on you, though he doesn’t know much on which are comfortable. So, yeah they’re cute but man are they uncomfortable.

He likes the looks of form fitting, and tighter ones. Leathers too! He also enjoys those looks on himself, and probably buys some leather looking briefs. Not actual leather though cause those are uncomfortable!

Does remember to offer but not push for paying, but does buy a meal to share from the food court, and finishes off your date with a kiss goodbye on the cheek (if you’re comfortable! Otherwise, a hug or handshake or just a nod, just whatever you feel comfortable with)

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #trey clover x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #x gn reader #x female reader

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severeaesthetic · 1 year

Text

People I would cheat on my boyfriend with prank (Vice House wardens)+ Cater, Floyd, & Silver (No Ortho)

⚠️Suggestive content, language, Floyd calls reader a slut⚠️

Not proofread

Let me know if you want 18+ versions. Poly Trey x Cater x reader 18+ (male + fem) coming soon

I try not to use Y/N so anywhere you see _____ that is the person using your name when they speak.

Trey Clover

You stress this man out to no end.

Like why do you choose to be a menace to society today of all days?

You decide to pull this prank while he is baking for an unbirthday party

He’s just trying to make a strawberry tart for Riddle

Cause there is never a bad time to pull this prank (unless he’s doing homework)

So you walk into the kitchen not saying anything as you set everything up

He just looks at you with a raised eyebrow while rolling out the dough

How it happened:

“Can I help you Cookie?” He says while looking down at the dough waiting for your answer.

“Yes. I just need your reaction to my presentation” you said walking over to stand next to him after clicking record. “People I would cheat on my boyfriend with” you said keeping a straight face. Trey looked up to the screen then over to you with a smirk (Trey smirking is really hot, but he scares me a little).

“Go on” is all he says.

You click to the next slide “Nobody. My boyfriend is the bestest boyfriend in the world and cheating is wrong.”

“Next slide.” He says while he gets the tart crust ready to be filled and put in the oven. Clicking on the next slide, there is a selfie that you took with Cater for his MagiCam. Trey’s movements only falter for a second as he briefly glances at the screen. “Is that so?”

With his limited reaction you know that you’re fucked. He stays silent as he finishes the tart and then puts it in the oven.

“Trey?”

“Yes?”

“Are you mad? It was just a prank.”

He walks over to you as you take a step back hitting the counter. He traps you against the counter by putting his arms beside your body. “Of course not Cookie. It takes a lot more than a measly prank to make me mad. Especially at you” he smiles (not a genuine smile) then kisses your head before walking off to go check on the rest of the party preparations.

You really regret letting Cater talk you into this. (Or maybe you don’t. I wouldn’t).

Cater Diamond

You and Cater were just chillin in Ramshackle

You got bored and then remembered that Lilia had paid you to prank your boyfriend. You and him set everything up at lunch that day.

So you got up from the couch and Cater just looked at you with a raised eyebrow as you ran around getting everything set up.

Now much like Idia, he knows this prank. So he isn’t surprised when he sees you recording and then the first slide of the presentation. He just puts his phone down and crosses his arms with an amused smirk on his face.

How it happened:

“It’s Trey isn’t it?”

You freeze right as you were going to click to the next slide. The look you gave him made him chuckle. He clicked to the last slide for you and was not the least bit surprised to see his best friend.

“If you wanted to fuck my best friend so badly all you had to do was say so” he said standing up. “I’ve got some things to do, I’ll see ya later tonight” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips “love ya sweetness” He winks before walking out the door leaving you dumbfounded. You have no idea if he knew this was a prank or not. (He 100% knew and just wants to fuck with you)

Ruggie Bucchi

(I know he isn’t technically a vice house warden, but he is in my heart 😤)

Another Why would you do this?!

You’re even cruel enough to bring him doughnuts before you go through with it. His tail wags because his favorite person brought him his favorite food. And then you have to go and ruin it.

Ruggie is very insecure of himself and his position in the relationship so you better tread lightly.

If you use Leona for this prank (which you do because Crewel made it your job to get Leona to come to class. Leona said if you pulled this prank on Ruggie he would go to class. Which was partly a joke because he didn’t think you’d go through with it since you love your boyfriend more than you care about Leona and his grades. Leona fake gagged when he said that part to) Ruggie will be a hell of a lot more insecure about himself. Because of course you would rather be with Leona. He’s a prince. He can give you a lot more than Ruggie can. Jack and Leona can literally (not really) hear Ruggie’s heart break when you go through with this.

Honestly, I would rather take all of Crewel’s punishments than to see Ruggie’s ears flatten against his head and his tail droop as tears form in his eyes. Crewel’s punishments cannot compare to the pain of seeing Ruggie’s broken expression.

How it happened (if you used Leona):

You texted Ruggie asking you to meet at Ramshackle saying you needed help with something and that you made him something to eat. He obviously finished with his chores as quickly as possible and rushed over. His tail wagging rapidly when he finally made it to your dorm. He walked in and sat on the couch when you told him to before you brought him the doughnuts. He took the plate and started eating and asked what you needed help with. You had everything already set up when you hit record and clicked on the first slide. “People I would cheat on my boyfriend with.” Ruggie stops chewing and looks at you. You go to click on the next slide, but realize you deleted the necessary second slide and it went right to Leona. Your heart dropped. “Ruggie, the second slide is missing” you frantically clicked away at the computer not seeing the hurt expression on his face and his ears droop. He silently set the plate of his favorite food down and slipped out of the dorm.

By the time you had the sense to turn around he was already gone. You had tried calling and texting him while making your way to Savanaclaw. You had even tried to call Jack and Leona to see if they could help. They refused to answer your call. Ruggie had ran into Jack on his way back to the dorm who took him to Mostro Lounge to try and cheer him up. Jack texted Leona who felt somewhat at fault (it was like 20% his fault) who begrudgingly got up from his napping spot and joined them in the lounge. After the annoying amount of texts and alls Ruggie received from you he turned off his phone and picked at his food that was brought out to him. After what felt like an eternity (it was only about 20 minutes) of you searching for your boyfriend, a certain butler I mean eel twin sent you a text with a picture saying “I have a certain Hyena who looks like a kicked puppy. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it would you?”

You quickly made you way to the lounge, practically busting down the door (you would get an earful form Azul later). You quickly looked around spotting the three furry friends. As you ran to the table you had to stop and catch your breath once you reached them.

“Seriously _____? What the hell is wrong with you” Jack said as he looked at you.

Finally catching your breath, you were about to speak before Leona cut you off. “Well herbivore, I can’t believe you went through with it.” Causing Jack and Ruggie to look between the both of you with confused expressions.

“What is he talking about ____?” Ruggie asked still looking beaten down.

“Crewel told me I had to get Leona to class or I would get in trouble. So I told Leona that and he said if I went through with the prank that he would attend school.”

“I didn’t think you would actually go through with it” Leona mumbled.

Ruggie stood up and got close to you. “So you didn’t mean it?”

“Oh Rugs, of course not. I love you so much” you smiled at him. Ruggie’s ears perked up and his tail wagging once again latching onto as tightly as he could. You reached up and pet behind his ears while giggling. Leona fake gagged out loud, Jack smacked his arm. “I’m sorry Ruggie.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for running out like that” he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Do you want to go eat the rest of the doughnuts?”

His head perked up and he nodded rapidly. Grabbing his hand you both walked out of the lounge and back to Ramshackle.

How it happened (If you didn’t use Leona)

You texted Ruggie asking you to meet at Ramshackle saying you needed help with something and that you made him something to eat. He obviously finished with his chores as quickly as possible and rushed over. His tail wagging rapidly when he finally made it to your dorm. He walked in and sat on the couch when you told him to before you brought him the doughnuts. He took the plate and started eating and asked what you needed help with. You had everything already set up when you hit record and clicked on the first slide. “People I would cheat on my boyfriend with.” Ruggie stops chewing and looks at you. Going to the next slide “Absolutely no one. Nobody is better for me than my boyfriend” you wait a couple of seconds before clicking to the last slide which shows a picture of Sebek (you received thanks to Lilia). Ruggie tilted his head with a confused frown on his face looking absolutely adorable.

“Who is that?” He says trying to figure out who it is.

“Sebek, he’s in Diasomnia” you speak up. All he does is start laughing.

“Good luck with that!” He is laughing to the point of tears “you’ll go deaf like a minute into the first conversation you have with him shishishi.”

“This didn’t go as planned” you said smiling at him.

“You owe me cuddles for wasting my time” he set the plate on the coffee table and held is arms out.

Rook Hunt

He knows this is a prank

But yes, amuse him. He needs some entertainment to stimulate his brain. He’s gonna have a field day with this.

How it happened:

You and Rook were in his room as you sat everything up he was watching you from his position on the edge of his bed. You hit record and pulled up the first screen. “People I would cheat on my boyfriend with” you looked at him he sat with a smirk on his face. You clicked the next screen “No one in the world is more handsome or better than my boyfriend” you looked at him.

“Well don’t keep me waiting mon amour” he says leaning forward placing his elbows on his knees resting his head on his hands.

“You know about this prank don’t you?”

“Oui, but I am curious as to who you decided to use.”

You clicked to the last slide where the queen himself was perched on his throne. A picture you used from one of his recent photo shoots.

“Let’s play a game mon ange. You hide and I’ll find you. I do have to teach you not to pull something like this” Rook says standing up from his spot. You didn’t even bother to grab your phone as you ran out of his room and out of the Pomfiore dorm. He walks over to your still recording phone with a smirk and a wink before stopping the recording. Little did you know that before he went to find you he stopped to have a little chat with the queen in question.

Jamil Viper

I’m not really sure how he would react honestly.

Like depending on who it is will get different reactions from him

How it happened (if you used Kalim):

Let’s say you were over at Scarabia doing who knows what. When you got up and set everything up he just looked at you with a sigh. He’s tired okay. All day he deals with Kalim’s shenanigans and then when he wants to have a chill night with you after finally getting Kalim to sleep you have to act like a brat. After hitting record you click on the first slide. “People I would cheat on my boyfriend with” you say before clicking on the next slide. “Nobody. Because I love him and only him.” He sits looking unamused when you click to the last slide where a picture of you and Kalim (that he took cause you two were being cute instead of stupid for once) was the whole slide.

He takes a deep breath as he stood up walking over to you. He stopped your phone from recording while looking you in the eyes. You took a step back while keeping eye contact (because he has pretty eyes). And would you look at that, you are now affected by his unique magic. RIP you I guess.

How it happened (if you didn’t use Kalim):

You skipped into the Scarabia kitchen where Jamil was making dinner for the dorm. He heard your footsteps as you hit the entrance of the kitchen. “Don’t even think about it.”

That stopped you in your tracks. “Don’t do what?” You tried to play dumb.

“Don’t open that slideshow” he said, all while not turning around and focusing on the food.

“How did you know?”

“I heard Ace blabbering to Floyd at practice today.”

“Damn it!”

Jade Leech

RIP you. Like you have absolutely no chance of living. Neither does the poor soul who’s picture you used

You better try and catch him at a good time, that may help a little bit

How it happened (If you used Azul/Floyd):

“That can be arranged” was all he said before standing up and leaving the room.

How it happened (if you used someone else):

You were in Jade’s room waiting for the right time do pull this off. He was minding his own business with his babies (mushrooms) and so you got to work setting everything up. Once you finished you got Jade’s attention and hit record. Clicking the first slide you didn’t have to say anything as he read the title out loud. He took over and clicked to the last slide where you had a picture of Rook. Jade sat staring at the screen for a few seconds. “The hunter?” He raises an eyebrow then looks over to you. “My darling, if you wanted to be treated like prey all you had to do was ask.” He looked at you with a menacing smile. You royally fucked up dude(gn)

Floyd Leech

Shrimpy thinks they’re funny.

Shrimpy thinks he won’t resort to murder.

Shrimpy is wrong.

Out of both of the leech twins, Floyd is most likely to resort to murder as a first reaction. Yours or the other person I don’t know. But tread lightly. Floyd would only share you with his brother. So if you use him then you might be safe. If not then I will make sure you and your fake lover have a wonderful funeral.

How it happened (if you used Jade):

Floyd was over at Ramshackle draped across your lap complaining about Azul making him work over time. (Azul actually only made sure he worked the required shift he had). You had a brilliant idea since Floyd was in a relatively good mood. You got everything set up while he was on his mini tangent cussing out Azul and got his attention by kissing his forehead. “Whatcha showin me Shrimpy?” He rolled over to be able to see the screen. Clicking on the first screen Floyd read it before you could. He laughed a little “Shrimpy has a death with do they?” He clicked through the next few slides and found it was Jade on the screen.

You sat in silence as he professed the information. “Floyd?”

“If I knew my slut wanted to get fucked by my brother I would have let it happen earlier.” He said extremely serious. He stood up and turned off the recording. He threw you over his shoulder and walked out of Ramshackle to the botanical garden where Jade was.

How it happened (if you used Riddle):

“Floyd it was a prank I swear! I won’t do it again!”

“Oh no, Shrimpy wanted to play” he said before his smile dropped and he looked like he wanted to kill something. “So we’re gonna play.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Bat daddy has been around the block when it comes to pranks. So it’s actually hilarious that you think you could pull this one over on him. But please, entertain your old man.

Let’s say you had everything set up when he arrived at your dorm. He knew what was gonna happen as soon as he saw you were recording. He of course acted like he had no clue just to see this play out.

So he sat patiently as you clicked and read through the first two screens.

How it happened:

You were quick to click and read through the first two slides. Lilia sat in silence trying his best to hide a smirk when he saw who you used for the last slide. He was expecting a lot of things. None of them being one of his sons. Much less the future king of Briar Valley. “Are you sure about that?” He spoke up causing you to jump as he had been dead silent.

“What?” You asked.

He stood up and walked over to you. “I asked if you were sure about your decision.”

“It’s just a prank Lilia” you spoke nervously, feeling small under his gaze.

“You’re lying.”

“N-no I’m not” you stammered out.

“My love. Haven’t you ever been told not to lie to the fae?” He sends you a scary smirk.

Silver

Gonna be honest, this man is probably gonna fall asleep as soon as you start the prank.

But let’s say by some magical force he does stay awake. You have to hurry to get through just in case.

You already had everything set up and were recording his face through the first two slides.

How it happened:

Silver was sat on your couch and watched as you went through the first to slides. He started dozing off so you clicked to the last slide that had a picture of Bat daddy (Lilia). Silver smirked.

“I think it’s weird to want to fuck your future father in-law, but go ahead. Just don’t let him finish in you. That pleasure belongs to me” he said before he fell asleep with a smirk on his face leaving you still recording with a very flustered expression.

Little did you know that Silver somehow got a copy of the video and showed it to his father. Lilia just chuckled as Silver went over the rules with him to fulfill your little fantasy (prank or not).

#trey clover x mc #cater diamond #ruggie bucci x reader #jamil viper #floyd leech #jade leech #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #x male reader #x gn reader #x fem!reader #twst smut #twst fluff #x reader #x mc #x you smut

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kalims · 2 years

Text

kiss your best friend | heartslabyul

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven

characters. riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce.

includes. gn reader who can be seen as either yuu or another alternative universe.

cw. kissing? mutual pining, crack.

note. those tiktoks where the bsf is straight outta wattpad /j reminder that the event poll will be closed on sunday ust+8

riddle rosehearts

expectedly turns very red.

just stares at you in the most flabbergasted way possible, looks at your lips then snaps his gaze back to your face again and again.

probably is too stunned to speak but when he swallows the bile in his throat, "what in the world are you doing?!" seriously though. he has so many questions.. why, when, what that he wants you so answer ASAP.

in complete denial that you admit to wanting to do it then apologizing if it took him by suprise.

sensing that you feel dejected by his negative reaction he's quick to assure you, in a mixture of shyness and shame he avoids your gaze. "you can't just go around kissing other people so suddenly! urgh.. atleast let me take you to dinner first.."

trey clover

blinks but looks pleased nonetheless.

well he certainly didn't expect that. in the years you've been side by side he had his suspicions that you felt the same but never acted on it.

spares you this handsome, killer smile as he leans in again. trey's quick to adjust to the indirect confession you just did so since you made the first move he supposes its his turn next.

he does applaud you for your bravery. trey doesn't know if he'd ever have the courage to do so if you didn't. "you're quite bold." he chuckles, thoroughly enjoying the tough exterior you put up despite you probably flustered inside.

"mind if I get another taste?" sir this isn't you tasting out bakery treats—

cater diamond

consider him shocked for once!

legit paused and recoiled back from your kiss, peck(?), whatever suited you best but you can't blame him! he thought it was like the "oh my god they were roommates thing"

wait a minute it feels like be just got slapped by reality. did you actually just kiss him?!

probably remembering he's still gaping at you he flashes you a rare, seemingly genuine smile. "sooo... what are we now?"

"friends with benefits?" you joke.

"oh. not what I had in mind but that's alright with me!"

"cater i was joking."

ace trapolla

visible disgust.

even goes as far as to wipe off the kiss wherever you placed your lips on it.

stares at you with a feigned weirded out look but no matter how far 'faking it till' he makes it goes' he's ultimately unable to hide the red ears from you.

if you try to point it out he'll only respond with vigorous shakes and something along the lines of feeling too good for yourself.

^ in serious denial but still wants more.

"that was disgusting.. I'm gonna be sick." ace blanches then fakes a hurl. "—do it again,"

deuce spade

shocked & flustered^tm (I'm too lazy to put the symbol bye)

slowly backs away and grips his mouth (kinda like tamaki at that once scene LOL) while slowly turning pink. not red because red is riddle's thing and no one can do riddle's thing.

is too shy and his mind is going a thousand million miles an hour <- exaggerated cause it's deuce.

the definition of "WTH OMG AKVSJABAJS" + inner crisis mode activated, I knew he was an idia kinnie somewhere deep there

pledges to you that he will be the man in the relationship, the pants, the— insert weird analogies.

loves u now and idk why he's going so fast. would probably not marry anyone else because boy is DEDICATED now.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #trey clover x reader #trey clover #ace trapolla x reader #ace trapolla #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #x reader #x gn reader

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lemonandlime22 · 8 months

Note

May I request Vil, Azul, Trey, and Jade with a Gn! yuu who’s first language isn’t english, so they struggle speaking and struggle with the assignments.

Vil, Azul, Trey, and Jade with Yuu that has a different native language

Warning(s): cussing, fish mafia doing fish mafia things, not edited

A/N: ty for requesting! i hope you like it!

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Vil Schoenheit

I personally hc that Vil's native language is German so he understands some of your struggles

he went through the same thing when he was first learningWhich I’m sure was when he was very little

But anyway, he’ll sometimes offer tips on how to pronounce things correctly and remember some grammar things that can get tricky.

If you ask he’ll usually help translate assignments or help you understand them,

You’ll probably have small language study sessions with both Vill and Rook

Heck maybe you’ll learn both French and German if you don’t already

Overall, he's a willing tutor if you ask and p good one at that! Also prob the most helpful out of all these guys

But warning, he is ruthless and incredibly strict if you make it a normal tutoring session.

Good luck!!

Azul Ashengrotto

Get ready to be exploited bb <3

he's like a mini Crowley

Any whooo

As soon as he found out you were having trouble he swooped in and offered you a deal

he'll help you with assignments and learning the language

and you help him reach a wider customer base!

Your basically his free employee.

Btw there is like a 50/50 chance that he either is genuinely helping you or using the twisted wonderland version of google translate.

But there is a small chance that he just so happens to have been wanting to learn your native language

In that situation then you’ll just be helping each other

you tutor his abt your native tongue

and he helps you understand assignments and any words your having trouble with.

Overall, not a terrible experience, tho he is taking advantage of you there’s not much of a downside other then you having to translate the whole menu.

Trey Clover

Another one that would be happy to help

except you don't have to make a contract with him for that help.

He will help you the best he can but it's not much

I can see him kinda knowing one other language, but just enough to get basic info across

but that's about it

whether that's the same as your native language or not, he'll do his best to assist you in understanding some assignments.

He tries to make it fun too, like for every correct answer your able to get, he’ll make you your favorite baked good

If you don’t like baked good, then he’ll use his unique magic on it

Trey will also be very curious abt your culture and see if or how different it is from his.

Overall, prob the most pleasant experience, not rly the most helpful but at least he got the spirit.

Jade Leech

Your basically his free entertainment

this mischievous little bitch will intentionally give you the wrong translations of things

and fuck up your grammar with the power of gaslighting.

Buuut if he were to want to genuinely help you,,,

he would take advantage of the situation to tell you all abt

Every. Single. Type of fungi.

For every new dish you try of his is an assignment he’ll help you with.

Overall, good luck! In school and I’m eating those dishes.

You will need it.

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urmanzack · 3 months

Note

head canons of heartslabyul boys having a crush on a gender neutral reader?

Heartslabyul boys crushing on you

———

Summary: Short head canons on what they'd be like if they had a crush on you Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Riddle, Trey, Deuce, Ace, Cater Warnings: None! A/N: zero clue how to write trey

———

Riddle 🌹

- poor boy

- he'd be SO nervous around you, but at the same time try to look like the cool house warden he is

- ace teases him way too much, whispering and elbowing him obviously whenever you walk by, or straight up waving you over

- trey, on the other hand, would gently encourage him; try to get him to learn about your favourite things

- it’d take a little bit, but if you hadn’t already he would talk to you probably after class, and offer to study with you to get your grades up even if theyre already great

- he absolutely melts at your praise

- riddle just thinks you’re the sun, you’re so gorgeous to him

- definitely stares, and blushes if you notice while hes obviously admiring you

Ace 💖

- ace has been in a relationship in the past (his middle school girlfriend NO IM NOT MAKING THAT UP HE FR GHOSTED HER), but when it comes to you? it’s so much more complicated

- will go on and on to deuce about how much he likes you and why

- tries to be really confident around you to get your attention

- the type of dude to do idiotic things in front of his crush and fall on his ass

- terrified of what you think of him, do you think he’s annoying? cocky?

- will bite someone's head off if they say anything bad about you, even in casual conversation. you know he likes you if he gets annoyed instead of joking about it

- you would have to be friends with deuce, the 3 of you would most likely hang out together

- but on some days you sit with ace under a tree, having your own little picnic

Deuce ♠

- mamas boy

- does his best!

- tries to avoid you finding out he was a delinquent during school, he doesn’t want you to think he’d be a bad boyfriend

- similar to ace, you’d have to get along

- now and then he makes dumb jokes to try to get you to smile

- definitely someone who pines (pining is when you think the other person doesn’t feel the same way)

- befriends you first, friends to lovers fashion

- then would ask you out real casually

- literally loves you so much

- writes letters to his mom about you

Cater ♦

- there’s no way this man hasn’t been in a relationship before, he’s so social!

- he flirts with you 24/7, but it’s hard to tell if he’s joking around or if he actually means it

- likes all of your social media posts, and definitely would stalk your account to see what you’ve been up to

- not afraid to talk to you at all, one day he might come up behind you, wrap his arm around your shoulder and start making conversation as if you’re the best of friends

- very good at hiding he likes you

- but tries to make it obvious

- if you’re oblivious and don't get the hint… he’d just ask you out

- adores taking photos with you

- matching profile pictures, phone cases, bios, you name it

Trey 🍀

- he’s not an obvious flirt, but he’s not shy either

- trey most likely compliments you often, being really casual and calm

- he wants to make a good impression

- “You didn’t eat breakfast? Here, have some candied violets, they’re my favourite.”

- always wishes you a goodnight's sleep and says good morning

- a worry bug if you're late to class

#head canons #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #fluff #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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twisted-lover-boys · 1 year

Note

OK, REQUEST TIME!! MushroomFae!Reader with Jade and Trey pls? I've had this in my mind for so long and I really want to see how others interpret the Mushroom Fae aesthetic. I already have an OC for this concept and they're my precious baby, but hmmmmmmmmmm, your writing is just so good I couldn't resist.

Trey And Jade With A Mushroom Fae Partner

{not proof-read}

oooooooo~ interesting! Damn now I gotta do my research

I’m pretty sure I didn’t use pronouns btw!

==================================

♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Trey, like everyone else in Twisted Wonderland, knew if the existence of fae and their varying forms. He just never thought he’d fall in love with one, let alone form a romantic relationship

He absolutely loves your mushroom cottagecore aesthetic. You look so cute and peaceful and—mans clutching his chest just looking at you in your normal attire

He likes it when neither of you want to go outside, be it for weather reasons or the like. Just doing domestic things with you like baking or tidying up the place makes him feel all fuzzy

Speaking of baking, pastries. They always taste good and look aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes he feels bad for eating them because of the amount of time you put into making them

When weather isn’t a problem, outside dates are very common place between you two and he enjoys the crisp breeze with you beside him

Flower picking and flower crowns are a must whenever you’re outside together. You absolutely had to teach him how to make them but they’re absolutely adorable

Eating outside on dates in a staple in your relationship. You always pick out the nicest, less busiest days and prepare food in advance. The smile on your face every time is worth the prep

Trey doesn’t mind showing affection to you and vice versa but there’s a time and a place for such things. He doesn’t want to be mean, like push you off or reprimand you kind of mean, but he will gently remind you of where you are and to just wait for later

Pre-relationship, he absolutely didn’t understand your courting customs. All he knew was that he had a lot of colorful rocks, flower crowns that never wilted, and mushroom terrariums that never rotted. Post-relationship, any and all of your gifts has a special place in his heart. They’re always in display somewhere in his room

He may not fully understand fae customs yet but he knows that he loves you fully. That isn’t going to change any time soon

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Jade knew of the existence of fae, their stories reaching to the furthest depths of the Coral Sea. He never thought he’d actually meet one, let alone get together with one so it was a surprise to say the least

When he found out about your mushroom aesthetic, he swooned. Literally. When you showed off your room and clothing and ornaments you could see the love struck look on his face. Congratulations, you’re this eel’s new favorite person not that you weren’t before

Although Jade loves going outside, low energy days can be quite common. He doesn’t mind them as they give him a chance to relax with you

Please make mushroom dishes with this man I’m begging. They look good, smell good, and taste good. He’s just happy that you don’t grow tired of them like certain someones and you actually make him your own as well which he adores

Speaking of outside, you’re an official member of the mountain lovers club and no you don’t have a say in this. He absolutely takes advantage of this and uses club time as dates for you both

Flower picking is something he knows you enjoy and will indulge in your little activity. He finds himself loving it a little more than he initially thought

Foraging is common on your outside dates and an activity he enjoys a lot with you. You mainly pick mushrooms and he’s always fawning over them and sharing and exchanging info with you

Of course of all your foraging, the edible ones get turned into dishes for your outside date picnics. He finds those times with you the most relaxing

Jade is very subtle with his affection but encourages you to show off your love for him however you see fit. So long as he’s not on a job for Azul, he’s allowing you to smother him. Just be warned, he will get payback…

Pre-relationship, he understood courting gifts as sea folk do something similar so he caught on fairly quick and gave you his own courting gift in the form of colorful rocks, coral, or seashells. He loved your courting gifts. Terrariums that act like mini forests, never wilting flowers, and rocks that shimmer and shine in the light. He actually considered playing dumb for a while just to see what else you’d give him. Post-relationship, nothings really changed…just the quantity—

Jade loves you and mushrooms and you’re a two-in-one deal for him. He can just barely grasp the norms of fae culture but he doesn’t need to in order to know he loves you dearly

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♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬♣️🐬

==================================

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x male reader #twst x male reader #heartslabyul #octavinelle #trey clover #trey clover x gn reader #jade leech #jade leech x gn reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 10 months

Text

Cinderella | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You awoke to the kneading of a suited cat against your chest. Slow to wake you let your head fall back into the plush of your bed only to be called by a peeved meow.

“I know. I know Luci. I’m coming.”

Not even bothering to change out of your pajamas you slipped into your cat-themed slippers and followed behind the cat bee-lining it to his feeding tray. You took out the pre-plated meal as quickly as possible and heated it. Lifting yourself off the ground onto the adjacent counter you saved yourself from the anxious pawing that Lucius was doing on the floor parallel to the activated microwave. Hearing a familiar tune play you opened the mini door to promptly bring the feisty cat his meal. You sighed, satisfied as you heard the wet and determined sounds of a feeding house cat.

Looking out from the kitchen and foyer you spied the moving shadow under the door of the study. You skipped across the threshold being sure to quiet yourself to tiptoe as you creaked the door open. Within the crack, you watched your stepfather move across the bookshelves, eventually turning so that his back was to the door. Fighting giggles you let yourself be careful of where you stepped to avoid the creaking floorboards, doing your best to creep up on the old man.

“Good morning to you as well (Y/n).”

You sucked your teeth, sitting on one of the many plush armchairs.

“Awww man I thought I caught you good!”

The old man let a ghost of a smile on his face as he made his final selections.

“What did I say about talking like that? At this rate, you will say whatever comes to mind.”

“You already know I do, old dude!”

He turned with a shake of his head carrying the stack he’d made out of the room; you followed suit. Up the stairs and down the hall past the doors of the ones who still had yet to wake. Past the bathroom, the powder room, and into the music room. It was a big room with only two instruments in the corner, two stools, and a flimsy podium to match. He said it was for better acoustics but you guessed he just wanted a room without the clutter that seemed to follow those two.

Setting his books down on a faraway coffee table, he only bought one over to the podium. Adjusting it until he deemed it perfect he stopped to see his dear cat enter the room. Scooping him up, he walked over to your leaning form against the door.

“Thank you for feeding Lucius. I’ve been diving…into some old texts. You know how I get so distracted with that.”

“It’s fine. I know you struggle with the microwave, anyway.” The snide comment has Mozus bristling with embarrassment.

“I don’t struggle with it…I’m just…learning as I go along.”

“Sure. Sure. But we know the truth, right Lucius?”

“Mreow!”

You laugh, hearing a hushed ‘traitor’ as you make your escape headed back to your room. You wonder if it is too soon to make a wish, that you’ll be back in bed before they wake.

“Oi oi Frog what are you doing up without waking me!?”

Too late. You traipse tiredly toward the redheaded misfit seeing that he’s dressed for the day and already sporting a mean face.

“Well sorry,” you dragged the word with a roll of your eyes. “Next time you want to wake up this early leave your cat door unlocked!”

“Eeegh!? And let the furball go through my stuff!? No way!”

“Then don’t come out whining then.”

“Hey don’t you tell me how to-”

“Good Morning you guys!”

With a yawn, in came Deuce with a kinder disposition than Ace. You gave him a ‘morning’ to which Ace only scoffed before letting his eyes land on you. Seeing as they were both up and dressed you guessed you’d deliver the news.

“Guess who’s having lessons today?”

“You?” Deuce tried.

“Ha no, flute and piano! Plus whatever’s in the ‘old texts’”

They groaned once again letting their eyes fall on you and staying there before you shooed them off. Letting them pass you, you watched as Deuce walked robotically down the hall followed by Ace who was slow to leave. With a smirk on his face, he turned to you.

“Feeling cold in just your jammies, huh?”

You squinted your face in confusion before a look down had you crossing your arms around your chest. You shot him a disgusted look as he skipped into the music room; another roll of your eyes and you retreated to the comfort of your room.

Dressed for the day you wandered back to the music room; peaking in on the instruction they needed. They were huddled around Mozus as he instructed movements with his pointer stick, you compared it to that of a wizard in a book of fiction. The looks on their faces were serious–a rare thing for the idiots that never grasped anything. You leaned in only to catch snippets of what they were saying.

“...protect them…whatever it…takes…”

“... even…?”

“Yup, I mean who wouldn’t?”

Before you could listen any further they quieted upon someone’s alert of your presence. The cat meowed loudly at you through the crack of the door; you shushed the cat as you let yourself in giving him the pets he probably wanted. It wouldn’t be odd if it weren’t for their immediate actions to look as if they were doing something else. Mozus and Ace played it easy either looking at a book or blowing a raspberry before writing something. Deuce was the dead giveaway; eyes widening and darting across the room as he flailed to read a book upside down.

“Sooo what’ya doin’?

“We’re about to begin a music lesson if you’d like to join us?”

Ace was at the piano cracking his knuckles and hands as if he were about to do manual labor. Deuce was turning red as he practiced harsh blowing techniques into the air before bringing the flute to his lips.

“No no! I’m good.” You frantically spoke. You’d been cursed to hear their harmonies before and you would not let yourself be tortured in such a way again. You began to back out of the room only for Mozus to call for you.

“(Y/n) if you’d be willing would you mind running some errands?”

“Sure!” You liked to go on errands, it was the only thing you were really allowed to do.

“Make sure to take Lucius with you!”

The cat was already meowing at you down the hallway going into your room. He had the right idea the moment they touched those instruments.

“Thanks again, Trey! You know how much Trein loves your bread.”

“Oh? Is he the only one?” Trey teased as he placed the wrapped loaves into your basket.

“Well…maybe…I’ll help myself to a few slices if there’s any left. Ace and Deuce are ravenous.”

Behind his frames, you could see his eyes glaze over in a disgruntled haze but as quickly as it came it left; letting a smile spread across his face.

“Then maybe I’ll give you an extra loaf. Just for you to enjoy.”

Lucius gave a pensive meow.

“Ah, I don’t know…I have other errands to run and I don’t have anything extra.”

“No worries, I’ll give you an extra for free… it's a…creme special…”

You tilted your head in thought genuinely trying to think of what wouldn’t leave you in a bad light.

“But I wouldn’t want you wasting product on something yer givin’ for free.”

“No worries it was going stale anyway, just wait here just a second.”

The baker disappeared behind into the kitchen; in the meantime, you rocked on your heels. Shushing the cat that seemed to get antsier by the second, making you internally plead that Trey hurries it up. As if to answer your call the baker emerged looking flushed but proud he handed you the clear-wrapped piping hot bread with a white glaze on it. Adding it to the other loaves of bread you dismissed yourself with an honest curtsy figuring it’d leave you less in debt to him.

“Thanks again, Trey! Though I doubt this was going stale!”

“Please it was on its way out! Have a good day, (Y/n)!”

“You too, man!”

You waved, walking out the door of the bakery straight to your car gingerly placing the bread basket and Lucius in the backseat. You made sure to give the needy kitty a rub before driving to your next destination: the tailor. Ace and Deuce had a nasty habit of somehow destroying everything they owned within a twenty-hour period; suits were no exception. So for your last errand of the day you were collecting an order of suits for them. With Trein’s name, you let the stuttery attendant disappear into the backroom before letting your eyes wander in wait.

“Ooh, that suit…”

Speaking to no one you eyed the mannequin sporting a character of a suit. Exaggerated points and a tail that gave it a regal feel; you imagined yourself fitting snugly in its place. You imagined a jealous scoff of Ace and the awe on Deuce’s face as you posed next to their plain, irresponsible suits. You smirked to yourself, nodding to the ceiling as you imagined the scene so vividly.

“You should get it.”

Your eyes snapped open to someone new, a boy with lilac hair and soft features. His short stature leaned against the counter as he stared in your direction. You straightened yourself out crossing your arms as you got a read on this dude’s emotion,

“Excuse me?”

“You like the suit, don’t you? And we both know you’d look good in it so just do it.”

Your eyes drifted longingly to the suit before darting back to the man or rather in his general direction.

“Hey?! What do you–mean by that?”

Before you could search for the mysterious complimenter, the attendant returned with two wrapped suits letting you carry out the transaction. You let your eyes roam the shop once more before asking the fidgeting attendant.

“Hey, who was with you today?”

“W-what?”

“T-the the little man, he was trying his best to sell that suit over there. Is he a new employee or–?”

“Uhm I’m the only one on staff today..did someone come into the shop?” She murmured as she looked to the distance in thought,” Maybe the bell rang and I didn’t notice?”

You shook your free hand in an attempt to calm her down, “It's fine it’s fine, I’m probably just hungry. Welp thank you and have a good day!”

You dismissed yourself going back to your air-conditioning car with Lucius sitting in the front seat as if waiting for you to return. Thanking the cat for not honking your horn, you draped the suits on the passenger seat; scooping up the cat you took the car out of park. Sending one last look towards the tailor before driving off.

For a good half of the ride, you kept going back to the strange fellow in the store. He did have a different kind of energy around him…it felt almost…sparkly? That aside you decided to forget about the whole encounter and instead focus on the road. Speaking of, your feline passenger was being especially quiet; a far cry from the usually vocal meowing as he tries to sit in your lap. Waiting until a stop light you let yourself look in the rearview mirror to spot Lucius pawing at the opening of the bread basket.

“Lucius, please don’t touch that.”

You cursed yourself for not bringing a toy for him; focusing on getting home fast enough before any damage could be done. When you pulled into the driveway you could already see the vehicle of another one that represents the royal convoy. You hurriedly grabbed everything you’ve gathered leaving the door open to let Lucius run in himself. The cat did just that with a certain loaf in tow.

“Lucius!? Hey! That’s my bread, Lucy come on!”

You struggled to follow the cat inside as you juggled the suits and the bread basket hanging on your arm. Nonetheless, you made your way in completely unaware of the company your family was entertaining.

“-as I was saying we will not be needing any more invitations.”

“And as I see it you will be needing more invitations.” The determined voice came from who you assumed must’ve been the owner of the royal vehicle. “Ruggie if you please.”

Peeking out from behind your little pile you spied the royal colors of orange and black worn by a beefy guy with dark skin and white hair. You quickly averted your eyes when his amber eyes stared intensely into yours, disappearing into the kitchen you fanned yourself to fruitlessly calm the heat that enveloped your face; missing the dispute your father and the knight seemed to have with your father.

“I will repeat..that is but a servant: someone who best stays with the house for our livelihood.”

“So you insist…” The amber-eyed knight sneered in disbelief looking at his confidant who reentered the room with a framed photo in his hands.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like this…servant of yours…is all that depended on to sort your house.” Snickering to himself Ruggie flung a decorative globe from his pocket leaving Deuce to lunge as he caught the item. “Which is the house of an upper-middle-class family that can certainly afford a night on the town. Though I get why you’d want to keep them a secret they are quite the…catch.”

On the last word, the royal attendant threw the frame in Mozus’ direction which he caught gingerly holding the frame to his chest as the knight further glared at him. The royal envelope was also shoved in his direction dropping it at his feet when he made no moves to receive it.

“His Highness expects all to be there. Good day.”

“Hishishishi, bye-bye.”

Both knight and attendant left with a glare and smirk respectively before leaving as swiftly as they came; leaving their hosts in a dreary position. Ace and Deuce entered the foyer both cradling various pictures and artistic decor. Exchanging dark looks with one another as you finally entered the foyer, awkwardly swinging your arms back and forth as you picked up on the tense atmosphere.

“Sooo you guys want to tell me about what happened there? Did Ace finally get caught for some stupid crime?” You tried to lighten the mood as you poked fun at Ace. But he didn’t react to you simply looking away as Deuce caved.

“Well no it's more like we have something to tell you–what?”

Elbowed in the ribs the boys begin something of a glaring contest which has Mozus intervening. Sending them away with a look you and your step-father are the only ones left in the room as the two grumbles to their rooms.

“So what’s this all about?”

“The prince is holding a banquet..in hopes of finding a spouse.” Mozus sighed as he moved towards the study; sitting in his chair. “His employees were adamant that we all make an appearance.”

“All of us?” Sitting across from him you looked into his tired eyes.

“Yes. I’m under the impression that they believe us to be…abusive to you…so they were insistent that you attend.”

You sucked your teeth in annoyance. “Can’t we like makeup an excuse…like that my formal wear got destroyed or something? I mean if they had any doubts I could just back it up.”

Mozus let out a weary sigh as he stared into the distance.

“But I doubt that would work, they are royalty after all.”

“Royalty Shmoyalty we pay our taxes and as such, we should be allowed to marry who we please. And not be forced to play bachelorette with this prince-guy.”

He laughed at your statement, settling into the chair as you do the same. Smiling at his ounce of joy that settled into a look of trust.

“So…will you be alright not to attend…under such circumstances?”

“Yeah of course! Lucius and I can have a ball of our own…all under a happy accident.”

___________________________________________________

“Told you they’d be slippery.” Prince Leona laughed as he listened to the feedback of the conversation. Amused by the way his knight and attendant’s eyes widen as they listened in. As he predicted his prey and their herd were a slippery bunch; collectively united to make his hunt that much harder. While he did prefer to nap rather than hunt he didn’t mind the means all that much when the end would be so fulfilling.

“Uh, you sure you really want this one? I don’t know if it’s worth marrying into a family brave enough to defy the crown.”

“I- ’ll have to agree with Ruggie-senpai on this one. Would you really want to mate with someone with so many…admirers.”

The knight spoke frankly, having tailed the auspicious character that everyone couldn’t help but swoon over. Too often had he watched the citizens sink into the darkest depths of depravity all in pursuit of this…(Y/n)-character. For all, he could deduct it wouldn’t be bizarre that those with more sway in nobility or even other kingdoms may come to desire them the same way. They could use their power after being exposed to them either through violence or diplomatic servitude.

(Y/N) Trein was a dangerous specimen, to Jack, for someone so unaware of their effect on people they easily captivate anyone that so much as glances at them. He didn’t know what scared him more the prospect of many endangering the life of his prince or the pull of his own desire for you. It was shameful but he found no solace in running from his emotions. All he knew is that it’d be trouble if his master decided to wed you…

“Heh. Don’t you think that’s a good enough reason anyway?” Leona snickered at his subordinates’ blinking in confusion.

“Who else will have the resources to keep such a snare, locked up tight?”

“Then what about the bigwigs? Won’t they want to see them?” Ruggie tested, hoping to catch the Prince off-guard. Leona only laughed flashing his canines in a toothy grin.

“I doubt you’d two would let that happen,” He laughed at the shocked look Jack would make as he turned to see Ruggie’s expression of panic. “Don’t think I couldn’t tell, they are practically irresistible.”

“A-aren’t you…worried that we’d steal them from you?”

Leona leaned back with his hands behind his head, letting his legs cross on the center console smirking to himself.

“Tch steal them and face the entire fleet of my brother’s kingdom? Fat chance. Jack’s too uptight and Ruggie’d run out of money,” the two shrugged and turned away in affirmation.

“Besides we’re all quite good at sharing with one another. Right, Jack?”

“Hishishishi”

Jack’s cheeks dusted with heat as Ruggie snickered, bashfully putting his arms behind his head. Letting the hyena calm his laughter, the knight cleared his throat already paging the royal tailors.

“I’ll go ahead and place the orders. One for a simple delivery and the second one for their untimely incident.

__________________________________________________________

“Ooops the outfit I just got from the royal family ended up in the furnace. Oh—ACE! Are you paying attention!”

“What?”

He looked up at you with the residue of whatever he was eating on his face as he gave you a stupid dumbfounded look. You sneered and rolled your eyes resisting the urge to pull at his ear or smack him upside the head but since his eyes were on you you continued.

“Ace. Look at what’s happened to my outfit from the royal family, I’ve accidentally thrown it into the furnace. See?”

“Uhhh okay? You wanna medal of somethin’?”

You just needed a witness. You just needed a witness. Carrying what you could ‘save’ from the furnace you put it in a metal bucket as you carried it to your father who sat dutifully writing a letter to the prince’s staff. You sweatdropped at his old-fashioned style as you set down your evidence for your computer already typing the beginning of his letter.

“Hey, it might arrive in time if we email them a picture..”

“...I guess that would serve our cause just as nicely.”

While you weren’t worried about informing them of your absence so early you didn’t want your Father who was guaranteed to possibly run into those intimidating lackeys to be accused of not even attempting. With hours until the banquet it would put the royal family in the impossible position of producing a tailor–made masterpiece in time. You left him to type awkwardly at the computer, hoping to save him from the embarrassment of your pity.

“Well, then I ought to get ready for the night.”

You had grand plans to enact a night full of debauchery as you relished in the emptiness of the house. Which consisted of finally going through the steamy selections Trein believed to be a pile of ash. Along with preparing to prepare for the turf war of pranks that Ace and Deuce seemed to endlessly rule. It would be glorious! That being said, you wasted no time bugging the duo to prepare for their departure as well as protecting their suits from whatever disaster seems to follow them.

Trein was also kept busy not only preparing his email but steeling himself as he slid his wand into the undercoat of his suit. Despite your attempt to help he was certain the prince wouldn’t take kindly to this…incident. He was prepared to lose the battle himself but his sons were the only ones he needed to keep safe. Anyone would carry out his will, should the worse come to be, it’d be them.

“Y-you don’t think we’ll have to use these…do you?”

Deuce’s breathless whisper weighed heavy on Trein’s heart but he steeled himself. They need to be strong and as their only role model left he needed to embody that. So with eyes cold and distant, he encouraged them to be prepared.

“I won’t cry for you old man because you’re not dying. And (Y/n)’s not going to end up with that pompous prince anyway! Not if I have anything to say about it!”

“Y-yeah.”

Could a father be more proud? His hugs were tight and firm, a silent reminder of his love before facing you. You have always been a joy to nurture. Prideful and loving it hurt not to warn you of his possible end but he couldn’t bring himself to worry you now. So with an ache in his heart, he smiled a woeful ‘farewell’ as you giggled something unread. But he couldn’t have asked for a better send-off.

“Yes! Now that they’re gone I can be an absolute menace!”

And your night of menacing would begin as you begin your plans for the night. Completely unminding of the sun setting as you continued to enjoy your time in an empty house. All was well traps were set, and treats were had but then an ominous knock at the door had you shooting off the couch.

“Delivery of the royal family.”

The sound of steps quickly receding and the sound of tires skirting off. You rushed to the door, opening it to find a dreaded copy of the outfit you destroyed hours before. Were you wrong? Was the royal family truly so prominent that they were fast enough to prepare this!? You took it inside and began to pace…surely they shouldn’t expect you to show up with your family’s car already gone? But if they were so adamant about something as small as this perhaps they would send a car. Or some form of transportation so that your father would not be at fault, right? Right?!

You stuck your head out into the dark and chilling night, looking down the street across the estate. Alas, no car or limo was in sight nor the sound of any vehicles on the street. With a heart full of anxiety you turned back into your home, closing the door. You kept your eyes trained on the wooden floorboards as you wracked your brain for some solution.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

The sultry voice has you snapping in horror to the living room where a man or rather three were hovering around. In the armchair facing the door was a man with blonde hair and purple tips that curled at the sparkling surface of his purple suit that’s back curtained into a tuft half-skirt. He wore a full face of makeup, sporting a knowing smolder and a raised chin giving a look of refinement. The other man with blonde hair in a bowl cut stood just behind the same chair dressed in a matching tail suit that reached dramatically at his calves. He tipped his hat with a widening smile as you met his emerald gaze.

“Bonjour mon cheri, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“F-finally?”

You were slow to join them in the living room despite their unchallenging demeanor. Only moving forward when the third male with soft features was lackadaisically rifling through the frames of your family on a nearby coffee table. You ran over taking it from him to put it back in its place, the lavender-haired male shrugged returning to the side of the man with folded hands in the chair. You scratched at your head as you took in the odd throuple.

“So what are you? How did you get in here? Why are you–”

“We don’t have much time (Y/n) so I’ll make this short. Rook!”

The blonde with the hat stepped forward, “Yes My Queen!”

Clearing his throat he opened his hands as he presented each of them.

“We are your fairy…helpers. This Roi du Poison: Vil and this is Monsieur Crabapple: Epel and as you’ve heard I am Rook! We are at your service for the night!”

You opened your mouth to respond, stopped by Vil’s raised hand. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m certain you have questions (Y/n), but we don’t have time for that. At this moment Mozus Trein is ingesting the poison that will kill him at the stroke of midnight.”

“What–! Why didn’t you say something sooner!”

“I’m telling you now so hush. We’ll give you the antidote but-”

“But?”

Rook excitedly chimed “You must be back by midnight! Otherwise–”

This time it was Epel who spoke in a hasty tone, “Or we’ll be forced to collect a form of payment from the life that was saved.”

“Do you accept?”

His made-up smile was unreadable but his eyes smiled with curiosity. As though you’d have any other answer to their proposal.

“I accept.”

Rook cheered while you unraveled the gaudy garments that matched the kingdom’s colors. Vil grimaced and gagged.

“Oh no, I am not letting you arrive in that! Especially not late!”

As if he was gliding he stood up from his seat to stand nearly chest to chest with you. You pulled away when he moved his hand to your face, flashing you a look of solemn sarcasm before materializing a wand in a flash of sparkles.

Smiling at your dropped jaw he waved the wand over your head. Just like its appearance the wand sprinkled sparkles all over your lounge clothes transforming them into a magnificent outfit, with frills and folds that added a new type of elegance. You even felt a tiara appear on your head before Vil slapped your hand away. The final touch was a stylish pair of sneakers, you flashed him a curious look while he sighed.

“Judging by the time,” He flashed a look at the clock. “You’ll need to move fast, ballroom wear isn’t exactly what you need.”

“Touche”

Rook appeared from behind him with a mirror in hand showing the unfamiliar reflection of you in stellar makeup.

“You look like rêve dans la vraie vie!”

“Uh, thanks?”

Smoothing out the outstanding frills and floof you hurried to the door before returning to Vil who shook his head again before handing you the vial with a color-changing liquid. You held it close, finding a secure pocket to store the vial before once again heading to the door to make a hard stop with sunken shoulders.

“Guys! I don’t have a car!”

Vil deadpanned, “Not my department.”

“It’s mine!” Epel shouted, smiling widely as he took your hand with his leading you out the door. Holding you behind him, he enthusiastically pulled out his wand and waved it wildly around, much less precise as Vil had done.

Similar sparkles popped wildly about to reveal a coolish blue and purple vehicle. Screaming slim and sleek it looks like the latest edition of motorcyle. Noting how it matched your look, you jumped as the engine revved animatedly as though it was calling out to you. Turning to Epel who was proudly smiling at your shocked face.

“B-but I don’t know how to ride–”

“Don’t worry! It’s magic! Now go! go!”

He pushed you along to start running towards the bike. You leaned forward, gripping the handles feeling a warm urge rush over you as you reeled your right hand back to try the engine. Booming loud and spiking your adrenaline you almost missed the warning he gave as you kicked up the stand.

“Once you get closer to the time limit it’s not going to work the same.”

“Okay got it! Bye, and thanks!”

You hurriedly waved to the three who were standing on the front door steps, each waving to you with their varied levels of energy. Jetting off you let what must’ve been the magic course through your veins as you mindlessly turned through the empty streets towards the castle banquet hall.

“I’m coming, Dad! Just give me time!”

_____________________________________________________

Deuce could barely stand to sway with the woman who had asked him to dance. He was too busy keeping his eyes on his father. Engaged in conversation with the prince’s guard looking especially terse as he smoothly sipped at his champagne glass.

“Hey, boy!? Are you paying attention or am I just that nice to hold?”

“S-sorry!”

He hurriedly released his hold on the woman, quickly wiping his hands against his suit before scampering into the crowd of beautiful people. Baby blue eyes searched frantically for his brother, feeling the burning weight in the pocket close to his chest. His searching proved fruitless as he lost his tact in maneuvering between the giant dresses and tailcoats.

“A-ace?”

“Hey!?”

“S-sorry!”

Breaking out of the crowd he found himself in the darker section of the garden. Away from the floating lights and mingling guests. Collapsing on a bench to clutch at his heart that was beating a mile a minute. How could he be so useless? His father was possibly having the biggest confrontation of his life and all he could do was search for his brother in hopes of intervening. He couldn’t recall when he became such a coward. Maybe it was the day he lost his new mother? Or when (Y/n) was almost abducted? Or that time Ace left him in that closet? But what did it matter? To blame any one moment distracted from the outstanding major point–that Deuce was a coward that might be losing someone soon. Two if he didn’t get up soon.

He tried to stand but was cruelly returned to his spot when he felt his body trembling. Could he take on anyone with such fragility? Without Ace’s loud presence to hide behind?

Deuce shakily inhaled and exhaled.

“What are you doin’ out here?”

The voice was gravelly and deep as if its owner had just awakened. Easing his fear with curiosity the ravenette looked to the bush across from him. The owner of the voice was yawning and stretching from out the previously neat shrubbery. Dark-skinned with cat-like eyes and unruly hair, Deuce thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place his face. Leona on the other hand, let a fanged smirk spread across his face, and recognized him right away.

“Uh, what are you doing…sleeping in a bush…at a party?”

“Probably the same reason, you’re out here crying.”

“I-i’m not crying!”

Leona chuckled, leaping out of the bush to tower over the still-sitting Deuce. With sly intention, the prince sat next to him feigning sympathy as he probed further.

“Oh? Then what are you doing? Did you just get dumped, maybe?”

He sighed, “No…I’m just getting over an…insecurity, I guess.”

“Insecurity?”

“I just…get kind of anxious and recently I’ve just been scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. I think I’m just worried because my Da–father’s life is kind of in danger and I’m just not–”

Leona was mentally rolling his eyes. This guy just kept going on and on. But perhaps if he could show a little sympathy it’d help smooth things over in the future. After all, it'd be helpful to have his brother-in-law willing to speak well in his spouse’s ear.

“Well, I think you should focus on getting some security.”

“Security?”

“Yeah, whatever option certifies your status and family’s well-being no matter how small.”

“Wait what was tha–?”

Deuce’s question was interrupted by the crux of gasps from the party guests. Who all seemed to be gawking at something deep within the party hall. Deuce stood up, wasting no time to fight through the crowd; praying it wasn’t shock from someone’s untimely death. On the other hand, Leona sauntered, slinking around the crowd to watch what caught everyone’s attention.

_______________________________________________________________

In the sea of guests dressed in the earthly colors of the kingdom, you were sure you stood out. Your outfit was a macrame of blues and purples, sparkling beyond any normal amount. This is why you couldn’t fault the entire gaggle of guests guffawing at your wear and if looked under a speculative scope could be considered a direct protest of the crown. It might have been an unintentional perk but you’d take it nonetheless.

Almost immediately you spotted Mozus looking shocked with his drink in hand. Still panting from running up the steps, you strode with confidence purposely taking—whoever this man was to the prince—by surprise as you guided your father away.

“Excuse me, I must speak to my father for a moment.”

“Uh, y-yeah–I mean, yes.”

You didn’t wait for his response while you led your father away, sneakily slipping the drink out of his hand. Finally coming to terms with you being there, Mozus spoke trying to keep his composure as you started to waltz, joining the still-staring crowd as you spoke.

“(Y/n) you look–”

“Stunning? Dazzling? Remarkable? I know.”

He smiled and shook his head at you.

“But what are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d stay home.”

He twirled you and you responded, “We did. But they sent another.”

“Another?!”

“Another.”

You two followed the steps, both of you taking a look at the non-dancing folks. The prince is among them. Sucking your teeth, you took your father’s hand dragging him off the dance floor to the table holding drinks. Pulling the vial out of your pocket you didn’t bother to hide it as you frantically dumped the vial into a glass before holding it out to him.

“I don’t have much time. You need to drink this.”

He looked at you like you were Ace–stupid. You leaned in keeping your voice low as you laid it out for him.

“I got a tip that you have been poisoned,” you put your finger up as he looked ready to argue.

“ You did drink? Didn’t you?”

His embarrassed silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Which is why you need to drink this cure and I have to leave before we’re in debt for it.”

Mozus opened his mouth and closed it, finally taking the glass from your hand. Holding it to his chest as he looked at you.

“Are you certain?”

“Of what?”

“Of this…being a cure.”

“...”

“(Y/n)--”

“Please! I don’t want to take the chance…”

He couldn’t resist the way you looked at him with those pleading (e/c) eyes, so much like the toddler he’d fallen in love with from day one. Mozus Trein would always have a strength weakness and you were one of three.

“Fine.”

He downed the champagne like a madman, going back to his stoic expression. He raised an eyebrow as you continued to stare at him as if expecting some immediate change to happen.

“Don’t you have to leave before we’re in debt?”

“Ohhh! You’re right!”

You hugged him before sprinting through the crowd, unfortunately on your way out you could already see the stuttering man and another running to catch you before you reached the door. In your dash, you took a detour using the crowd to stifle their chase, looking around for those familiar pair of troublemakers.

“Oi! I said we’re dancing, didn’t I!? LET’S GO PRINCEY!”

It was Ace dragging the scowling prince to the dance floor away from the position that would have been your doom. You silently thanked him as you spotted the night sky, about to jump down the steps you stopped because of the burly man guarding your exit.

“I apologize! But per my prince’s orders, I can not let you through!”

Before you could retaliate you were stilled by the increasing cry of Deuce flying by!

“ I AP-OL-OGIZE!”

Crashing into the man his momentum sent the both of them tumbling down the stairs. You ran behind them passing by to get to your magic motorcycle. Shouting behind you, you stuck your thumbs up.

“Thanks, Deucey!”

Instead of words, you were met with the continuous grunts and fleshy sounds of being punched. You stopped yourself from looking and instead focused on mounting your ride once more. But something wasn’t sitting right, wasn’t there another–?

“Hi, there!”

“Whoa!”

Standing right in front of you was a leaner male, smaller than the prince, and the guard smiling mischievously as he blocked your ride.

“Where are ya goin’ so fast?”

“None of your business!”

“What? Don’t you want to–”

His smile became a smirk as he raised his hand toward you. You felt like you were having an out-of-body experience where you couldn’t control any of your movements.

“Laugh With Me?!”

At that moment a flash of sparkles seems to sprout from your outfit shooting into the man’s face. He reeled back, falling to the ground and curling into himself as he clutched his nose. Recognizing the sparkle you sent a kiss to the sky before zooming off on your motorcycle.

“THANK YOU!!”

Riding off into the night you let yourself breathe. One hurdle at a time. The next one is getting home in time which should be fine. As long as the prince and his goons are occupied at the very least you’ll get home in time.

_____________________________________________________________

“Are you sure that was okay?” Epel asked as he worriedly watched you ride on the motorcycle he had spent months crafting.

Vil didn’t respond, watching with mixed feelings as he zoomed in on your determined face. Setting the mirror down he leaned into the armchair as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Technically yes. Usually, the fairy godparent should have done everything within their power to assure their success…”

Epel grimaced, “But we don’t want that, do we?”

At Vil’s silence, Epel went on grazing his fingers along your face on one of the framed photos.

“We…don’t keep them if they make it back, right? So we should want them to fail…so we shouldn’t help right?”

Vil exasperatedly sighed as he looked at the decor of the home. He scoffed lightly, threading his gloved hands through his hair as he let a defeated smile grace his face.

“But we love them so dearly, we can’t help but want the best for (Y/n). That little Minx.”

Playfully cursing at you as he watched you through the glass of his all-seeing mirror. Epel returned to his side looking over his shoulder with a look Vil couldn’t pinpoint.

“But what if–the situation with the prince, right? It’s not going to get better, right? Then maybe we can have them then?”

“In exchange for saving them from a forced marriage and protecting their family?.... That’s incredibly dubious Epel. It breaks every rule in the fairy book.”

The petite boy smiled playfully wagging his wand.

“But we’re not fairies are we?”

Vil couldn’t help but cackle laugh alongside his junior’s snickers. Before turning back to the mirror with a settled mind and a happy smile.

“Then it's settled, we'll let them return home in time. Successfully complete the payment and we collect our darling during the next tragedy. Are we all in agreement?”

With vigor, he’d never had towards Vil before he shouted, “Yeah!”

“Hold on…Where’s Rook?”

__________________________________________________________

You should have been in the clear, a straight shot home would be the end of this night. But whatever small objects whizzing by you on your ride might be telling a different story. You took the backroads surrounded by the woods to keep your pursuers off your trail. Looking in your rearview mirror, you found no lights that said otherwise, and yet why did it feel as though you were still being chased?

You didn’t want to turn off the road but when you felt the break of wind again, you heard the hissing of one of your tires. As quickly as you could you turned back to the main road, finally coming to a stop when you made it to the shopping square.

Getting up from the toppled motorbike to inspect the flat tire expecting to find some small puncture. Instead, you dug through the larger hole to pull out an arrowhead. Immediately you stood up, frantically looking around until you witnessed a flaming arrow landing on your fallen bike.

Backing away from the growing inferno you could finally see the faint outline of a shadowy pursuer. In the darkness of the night, they reeled their arm back and released after another arrow seemed to fly by you. Without another thought, you took off ducking under closed stalls and parked cars as you made your way to the only place you could think of where you could hijack a motorbike.

“Sorry, Trey!”

You quite easily rigged his motorcycle to run after locking the door of the bakery’s private parking lot. As the banging against the door intensified, it had you working fast and you couldn’t help but thank Deuce for his bad egg era. Mounting the motorcycle you waited until your assailant broke down the door, before firing away through the door and over the guy.

You didn’t bother looking for the identity of the masked individual or if they were getting up again. Continuing on your route you flashed a look at the radio clock on the motorcycle, speeding as much as you can. It was a small window but you could make it!

______________________________________________________

With minutes to spare you, crashed the motorcycle into the cobblestone of the estate’s entryway climbing your porch and quickly unlocking the door to your home. Stumbling in, you hardly noticed your disintegrating garments returning you to your comfy attire. Bent over and heaving on your knees you took a minute to compose yourself.

“...Congratulations (Y/n). Saving your step-father and returning all in one night is no easy feat.”

“Good job, (Y/n) we knew you could do it!”

Light-headed and heart still beating erratically you gave a lopsided smile to them both, puffing your chest and putting your hands on the backside of your hips.

“All…in…a day’s work. Whoo.”

Suddenly feeling a wave of tiredness come over you, letting your eyes droop and your shoulders sag. Looking down in a startling realization you could feel the light quake of your legs whether from fear or exhaustion from holding you up; you decided on one thing.

“I’m really tired.”

Vil gave a knowing smile as he stepped toward you, putting a warm hand on the middle of your back he let you lean into his touch. Holding you against himself, he let his arm curl around holding you close as he guided you up the stairs and to your room. It didn’t matter to you then that there was no hesitation before opening your door.

Laying you delicately into the mattress, his face brushing against yours raised no alarm only vaguely tickling your nerves as you welcomed the plush of your pillow. Vil was speaking to you, something important indeed but your body didn’t care. Already filling your vision with splotches of black and your eyelids filling the space; you melted into the warmth of your bed.

“--When that time comes all of you is mine.”

_____________________________________________

Waking to the muffled angry cries and pawing of a frustrated cat, was a jarring start to your morning. It didn’t help that your body ached and throbbed with the unprepared tension of the night before. With great struggle you raised your lead-heavy limbs from the bed, dragging your feet as you dressed quickly. Just a brush of your teeth, a wash to the face, and putting on your robe—far too tired to change out of your comfy clothes. When you opened your door the cat sped past your slippers; hissing at the state before rubbing himself all over the surface.

“Why are you so miffed it's not like I…had anyone over.”

When you woke you were too caught up with the pain to recall the madness of the night before. Fairy helpers. Magic clothes and a motorcycle. Antidotes to poison. Escaping royalty. A hunter with arrows. It was a timeline of an action movie all of which you didn’t have time to register before now.

“Oh gosh, Trey’s bike!”

Forgoing feeding the cat you ran down the stairs and out the door, dreading that’d you’d find the wreckage you vaguely remember. To your horror the motorbike was twisted in an odd angle, scrapes all over its details, and a concerning amount of arrows lodged into the tires.

“Trey I am so sorry.”

Already preparing for the shifts at the bakery you’d be willing to pick up or any outlandish favor he could come up with in exchange. Letting out a defeated sigh you waved a dismissive hand before heading back inside. Looking for anything out of place you took your time scanning the living room trying to spot a stray footprint or glitter coming up short.

“Hey!” You looked to the stairwell seeing an angry Ace, trailed by Deuce stomping his way down the steps.

“What d’ya think you were doing?! Trashing my room like you did and then showing up to the ball you not to go to!?”

“I didn’t trash your room. And it was an absolute emergency.”

“Well, couldn’t you have an emergency quietly?! You literally wore the craziest outfit—”

“I thought y-you looked really nice.”

“Thanks, Deuce.”

“And got the prince’s attention! The exact person we were trying to avoid!”

“I told you: it was an emergency!” “Oh yeah?! And was getting Deuce beat up worth it?”

“Sorry but yeah. And what about you Casanova you got to dance with the prince?”

“Shut. It.”

Ace continued to complain but you stopped listening looking around for the one this was all for. Pushing past those two to open the doors of Trein’s study. For a moment there was fear, that the poison was not cured or that the antidote was the opposite of what you’d hoped. That you’re dearest stepfather would not be standing there. That he’d be in the coroner’s office having his case dismissed on the Royal family’s behalf.

But he was there. Standing healthy and firm as he looked at something small nearly invisible. Having heard you come in he squashes it between his fingers turning to you with fondness.

“Judging by the bike outside you had quite the night.”

You chuckled, “I did? I don’t know about that, I wasn’t the one whose life was on the line.”

Mozus gave a look of disbelief before accepting a hug from you. You were happy the night had gone the way it did if it meant saving your dearest dad. Neither of you pulled away as Ace barged in pointing his finger as he was still attempting to berate you. Stopping when he saw neither of you pulls away.

“What is this? A fluffy party? Don’t think just cause you're hugging him doesn’t mean I’m going to get all fuzzy with you!?”

“Don’t get all pissy just because I’m getting hugs!”

“I’m not–” “Did you say hugs? I want in.”

Trein opened the hug, extending a hand to Deuce. Who eagerly pushes past his brother to accept the invitation.

“You may join us, just watch your strength. It would be problematic if you injured (Y/n).”

“Right!”

“He doesn’t want to say it but he’s scared you’ll break his broken back even more.”

“(Y/n).”

“I promise to be gentle pops!”

“I’m not made of glass.”

“...”

“Ace…”

“...Whatever. I’m only coming over because you sad saps won’t stop looking at me like that.”

In a suffocating heap, you hugged your family; relishing in the asynchronous beating of their hearts. It was comforting–their obvious signs of warmth even as they all departed on the pretext of it being too hot, brought a smile to your face.

You did it. They were safe.

The startling knocking on the door broke the moment causing all of you to snap your heads toward the source. With a pensive sigh and shake of your head, you went for the door giving a guilty face to their curious looks.

“No doubt probably Trey who's about to hound me for his bike.”

So sure you swung the door open fully expecting to see an angry green-haired baker. Only to be overcome with dread as you recognized the royal colors decorating the uniforms of the prince and his entourage.

“You’ll have to excuse us (Y/n) (L/n). We have some business with you.”

In no time at all the prince had lazily sprawled himself on an armchair and his guards on the couch, leaving Mozus to take the only other chair in the room. After closing the door on the growing crowd of onlookers you stood dutifully next to Ace and Deuce who stood on both sides of the armchair. Mozus spoke with a pensive bow.

“Your Highness it's an honor. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The prince was still leaning comfortably in the chair, resting his boots on the coffee table in between. The scrawnier attendant spoke, who you vaguely recalled somehow attempting to stop you.

“His Highness is more than captivated by the daisy, who left the celebration all too soon.”

Their hungry eyes were all on you to which you fumbled your rebuttal.

“A-are you by chance talking about Ace?”

Deuce caught your wandering gaze, shaping his lips into an ‘o’ before joining you.

“Oh yes, I-i saw that His Highness shared a lovely dance with our precious Ace. Did you perhaps fall head over heels in love with him?”

You held in a snicker and so did the slim attendant, doing a terrible job silencing his amusement behind his hands. The prince seemed to growl as he sent a glare in Deuce’s direction who immediately shrunk back in some sort of reprimand. As if intending to break the tension the burly attendant spoke, who you now recalled was the one Deuce tackled for your sake.

“Who we are referring to is (Y/n) (L/n) and as you’ve deduced His Highness is formally asking for your hand.”

A strong silence fell over your family. A collective horror gripping your hearts.

“What if…I planned to refuse?”

Deuce and Ace released a gasp and Mozus turned to look at you, heart aching at the sweat that beaded your brow. The attendants sent a look toward one another before looking to the Prince who sat unbothered, before laughing out loud. It was a scornful laugh. A laugh that made your cheeks burn with stupidity. As if what you had proposed was so outlandish that you might as well paint your face, wear bells on your head, and become a jester.

His laughing stopped as he brought his feet off the table; placing his elbows on his knees and carding his fingers to rest along his chin. Emerald eyes narrowed and challenging he spoke with a rumbling authority.

“Do you think it's a good idea to refuse me? I know you’re not stupid (Y/n). Would you rather be married without any family, prospects, or a clean record? Or would you rather come happily into the royal family without our behest?”

“But you're still threatening me–”

“And? I’m being nice with all the running you’ve been doing from me. I love a good chase but I’m about tired of pushing past these obstacles. And I’m about to knock them down. Permanently.”

The message was clear.

Your family’s protective streak for you was being tested. And so was your own will. More than anything you would have loved to hide behind your father and brothers. But that would be folly against someone who truly had no problem getting rid of your family. It wouldn’t do much to refuse…even if it killed you to lose your freedom to this.

Mozus stood up, angrily gripping the armrests of his chair as he dangerously turned red. Ace and Deuce mirrored his actions more than ready to be thrown into action. So were the attendants who seemed to be waiting for the chance to spring into action.

You have to diffuse this.

You need time to think.

“Dad… it's okay…please.”

With a hand on his shoulder, you guided him back into his seat before turning to the smirking prince.

“I…will…need a minute.”

You didn’t wait for him to answer dashing past Deuce and Ace as you ran into the nearby room: the study. Having half a mind not to cry you began to pace. What could you do? What could be done? The cards have been set and you had the losing hand. All you could do was to give in. And after all, you’d gone through? For the hero you were before, it would all mean nothing.

Even with the force of magic that you’re family had, you couldn’t expect novices and one senior to protect against an army. No. If it was magic you’d need something stronger. Something that has proven to give results. To be a definite victory for you and your family. Kind of like…your fairy helpers.

“I had a feeling you’d need me.”

You turned to see Vil in all his radiant, glittery glory smiling as pridefully as he did before. You ran up to him with a conviction and helpless plea, fully prepared to beg on your knees if you had to.

“Vil…the prince he– he said if I didn’t marry him willingly he’d hurt them–but I really don’t want to sign my life away to that horrible brainless—Do you have anything that can help me?! Or just some way where I can guarantee that my family will be safe?”

A warm hand rubbed against your back and the smell of cedar filled your nose. It reminded you of that one fellow…

“Ohhh~ pauvre biche, Vil we must offer our help!”

There was something about the way he said it. The sing-songy tone that was typical for him had a hint of mocking nature. But surely that was out of understanding perhaps it was something of a minor problem for fairies such as them or that it was all an act in the first place.

“Yeah, Vil, (Y/n)’s our friend we’ve got to help them.”

Epel was on your other side letting his shoulder touch yours in a form of support as he looked to Vil. Seemingly convinced Vil pulls a vile from his pocket. The solution glows a sparkling purple that flashes gradients of green. It was alluring to simply glance at.

“Alright then (Y/n) I have a proposal for you: you drink this and your family will be safe from any others who may wish to harm them,” You opened your mouth to agree, stopping when a gloved finger pushes against your lips.

Vil continues, “But you must agree to accept the journey that comes with it. “

Your eyebrow rose with a question on your tongue only to be stopped by more fingers on your lips.

“I can’t elaborate on that further. All I can say is that we’d be with you the whole way and no one. No one will ever threaten you again.”

It was your choice.

“To concede or thrive? Mon filou, what will you choose?”

“You’ll make the right choice (Y/n)~! I’m sure of it.”

You held your gaze on the swirling solution in the vile.

It was up to you.

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