#trey clover x you

[kalims]

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "do I like you? is that even a question?"

you like me, don't you?

heartslabyul : savanaclaw : octavinelle : scarabia : pomefiore : ignihyde : diasomnia :

note. I got bored and just decided to make this miniseries, just a small short. and also trying to expand my writing abilities 😃👍

"you speak of nonsense."

there's a twinge of hurry in riddle's words. it comes out quicker than he wanted and it doesn't help that his face always seems to have a mind of it's own, turning red at the most unnecessary of situations and flaming when he least wants it to.

it isn't something he's very proud of but you think it's cute.

his red face either displays blazing rage, shameful embarrassment, or both. it's probably weird that you think it's cute but hey! riddle doesn't allow himself to actively display his feelings other than disappointment or anger, remaining to be formal instead.

it's a tiny catalyst to what he's feeling. anger and embarrassment might be things one doesn't like but it's nice seeing him so expressive. or are you just crazy for thinking so?

but his face is probably one of your favorites.

be it the twitch of his eyebrow and the sharp inhale of his that signals embarrassment, the grinding of his teeth and avoidance of eye that displays embarrassment or shyness, the enlarged pupil and small smile when he's doing something he likes—

you can go on and on.

but you can't help but tease him. "your red face says otherwise." you laugh out loud, to riddle it sounds like something straight out of heaven and even he is frustrated to admit it. how could he ever do this?

"hmph. unfortunately.."

wait. doesn't that mean he just agreed with you?

—

"hmm,,, well.. I used to." trey answers so casually that you actually had to pause to register his words. since when did trey clover even like you? and what did you do wrong to make his apparent 'previous' feelings to wither away?

well shucks. if you had known earlier then you're absolutely sure that you'd tried harder to help him in ways more than one but for now, you have so many questions.

why did trey like you, what was special about you? you did hope that he would but that was only something that lays inside your dreams, for it to turn reality wants to make you go crazy.

and when did his feelings even go away? you can't deny that your heart cracked a little but the earlier to move on the better, right? you had.. other things to worry about than pointless crushes. you're not sure yourself if it really was pointless.

or.. you're just looking too much into it and he used it as a friendly term?

most probably sensing your inner monologue trey chuckles. "you seem distressed." he comments. unable to hide the pleased smirk on his lips, you are too embarrassed to spot it, feeling more intent to gaze at the piece of dough you knead with your fingers.

"really?"

it's still surprising to hear the next words come out more casual than the previous. "yep, I love you now."

you drop the bowl.

—

"eh?"

there's a stupefied look on cater's face. instead of the bright front he spent years putting up there's actually something in his face instead of the cheery grin, but rather an absolutely horrified one. like you just spilled all his secrets.

you raise your brows. suprised yourself to witness his reaction. "what?" did he actually like you?

cater does this thing where there's a becoming realization dawning on him that he did something totally off character, he laughs it off. "uh.. haha, I mean who told you that?" something desperate to know swims in his eyes and it fuels you even more.

he neither denied or acknowledged your words but his answer just leans on the 'he actually does like you' category.

your mouth forms into an awed 'o'. "so you do like me!" you slap a hand over your mouth and giggle loudly. not one of those giggles that would hurt your ears when you went near a radius of them cause they felt forced but a more, actual joyful one.

he looks more horrified. "WHAT? well I mean.. who wouldn't like you?"

it sounded like he was trying to convince you and himself.

"you, obviously." you roll your eyes. you don't know why but you have a feeling that he's been confused the whole period but trying to play it off.

he smiles brightly, drops it for a second and smiles again. "I mean yeah, totally! how about dinner tonight?"

wow. verryyyy smooth. if only he knows that there's probably some kind of rule about not staying up after 8.

—

"ew no." ace quickly denies. pushing you away for good measure, you stumble and instinctively grip on the vase for dear life. almost dragging it down with you to your own demise and by a stroke of luck, it just managed to stay there.

you shoot him an aspirated look. "you almost made me fall??" grumbling you dust yourself off, flinging away the dirt from the floor that stuck to your uniform after your lower body violently colliding with it.

—completely missing ace's grumble of his own. "you dumbass.. it's the other way around." you turn to him and cast him a weird look.

"what did you say?"

"I said it's the other way around." he says. not missing a beat. you're stunned by the sheer audacity and boldness he had cause damn. where do you get a speck of this kind of thing? and who even says what they actually said instead of going 'nothing.'??

ace apparently.

you blank. "I was just joking?"

"you think I am?"

ace smiles—not one of those arrogant smirks that makes you want to pound him to the ground because he's the reason you're in trouble. but a literal, actual smile.

there's a weirded out look on your face as you shiver. "ohhh god.. I think I just saw the face of satan. am I gonna die?"

"hey!"

—

honestly you don't know if you regret speaking at all because the silence was very deafening. deuce had frozen up, going so still you thought he actually got cast a curse or something.. his back is turned on you and it's as if he refuses to look at, and is going through the stages of grief at the same time.

"ah! how did you know that?! it was ace wasn't it?!" he suddenly leaps to turn to you—somehow. meanwhile you flinch at the voluntary action he just did because none of you were moving, or speaking at all for a full 2 minutes.

did..

did he just admit it to you?

wow, that was easier than you thought. "wait so you actually like me?" you incredulously force out. deuce has this confused look on his face as he stares at you all while throwing a few nervous gazes around the surrounding in the middle of it.

"what do you mean? I thought you knew that just now."

"..."

"..."

"um.. wanna go out?"

"really?! I mean uh—yeah sure." deuce coughs. seemingly forgetting that he was supposed to be the 'totally cool and responsible' person in addition to his honor student dream. this is embarrassing, he thinks. but honestly who cares he scored a date with you!

he's probably still gonna playfully fight ace, cause you never told him that it wasn't ace.

note. me after starting this knowing damn well I have over 42+ shit to write 😃 anyways I don't like how I interpret some of these but 🧍‍♀️🤷‍♀️ also a bit ooc of deuce cause I'm not that good at writing him lol

[dollwritesarchive]

I apologize (semi) for rqing my boy again but I read “you want to be choked, don’t you?” and all I could think was sweet dom Trey trying out CNC and realizing he REALLY likes it… like more than what is healthy - 😴

warnings ; cnc ( consensual nonconsent ), smut, choking, all characters portrayed including reader are 18+. minors dni

Trey hadn’t been so sure of this.

you want me to what?

take me how you want. kicking, screaming, crying. i don’t care, i just want you to fuck me like you hate me. and if i say no, fuck me harder. until i’m pounded so stupid that i just lay there and take it.

he thought about protesting the idea at first, telling you that there was no way that he could even pretend to hate you, and that was true. he almost told you that he’d rather just make love to you, but something stopped him. a microscopic inkling of curiosity— the urge to know what it was like. maybe it was an unlocked fetish gnawing at its bars, or maybe he just wanted to give you anything to make you happy.

so he said okay, and now, he was bearing down on you with your knees dug into the soil. one hand pressed on your head, the other gripping your hip, he was fucking you relentlessly. grunting, pushing you deeper into the rose bush; ruby paint still fresh spattering the back of your uniform top. he hadn’t even bothered to undress you, which made it all the more humiliating and delicious. your skirt ruffled up and over the small of your back, your soaked panties around your knees, rubbing into the dirt.

when he brings your hips back to meet a powerful thrust, you mewl and reach back to press at his taut abdomen, your body telling you that you’re too full. “Trey—-“

“Reached a limit, didn’t I?” he purrs, “That’s too bad.” feigning sympathy, he even surprises himself at just how merciless he sounded. when the hand on your hip flees to grasp your wrist, he pins it to your back instead, drilling against your quivering thighs harder, faster, until each buck of his hips is punctuated by a squeal from the pathetically helpless shape of you underneath him. your feet kick under his weight, and he moans over the sound of his skin smacking against yours.

“Fuck, you feel so good, squirming and hopeless. I could pound your pretty pussy out until you can’t even walk a straight line, how does that sound?” his fingers, svelte and previously buried in the roots of your hair, careen over your nape and around. your breath catches in your throat when his soft digit tips brush over your windpipe, and you tilt your head back upon instinct, your gaze flickering upwards to watch him dominate you from behind. your vision was already a little hazy, but one look at his countenance, twisted in sordid realization, and you knew you were in trouble.

“Please, Trey—“ you groan. you should’ve been pleading for a break, or for him to slow down lest he fuck a hole through you, but you weren’t. you knew you weren’t.

and so did he.

Trey saw the way you dropped your head back the second he touched your throat, and it sparked something deep inside him. an excitement; his gaze lighting up like fireworks. “Don’t give me those doe eyes now, sweetheart.” he mutters, leaning forward to press his torso to your back, “Do you think I didn’t just see the way you opened up for my fingers? You’re just begging for me to wrap them around that pretty, little neck of yours, aren’t you?” you try to shake your head, but he does just that— the slender digits clamp around your throat and you gurgle in submission, eyes widening. “You want to be choked, don’t you?” he taunts, experimenting with pressure to see your reaction.

you wheeze and arch like a cat, only giving him more access to drive himself home inside of you, and your walls spasm around the thickness of his cock. both hands come up to grasp his wrist, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks as you choke on an answer. “I—I—-“

“Shhh, shh, shh, sweetheart.” Trey moans, kissing the top of your head when he tightens his grip. “You don’t need to answer, your pussy is doing it for you— she’s going crazy, squeezing my hard cock so tight, you’re going to cum with my fist around your throat, aren’t you?” you try to inhale, but his vice is making it almost impossible, and he knows that. he watches you writhe and scramble as you’re pushed closer and closer to the edge, and he’s smirking, his tiers drawn tight over his teeth when you finally come undone, gasping and desperate. “That’s it, sweet girl… I’m going to force that orgasm out of you, and then I may let you breathe while I use you like a little sex toy to get myself off.”

his words and the ferocity they were doused in surprised the both of you, but you could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he was enjoying it just as much as you were.

this was the first time you’d ever seen him so brutal, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

and you were counting your lucky stars.

[mikalims]

so i randomly asked some friends on discord "hmm... who in twst do you think likes to collect teeth" for no reason at all and they answered "trey" ... it gave me a fic idea so here you go

cw: yandere, implied captivity, obsession, slight gore, teeth collecting (like literally)

notes: gn! reader, fic inspired by saccharine by jazmin bean (a bop), this fic is messy asf

(𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄) 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄.

TREY swears he fell in love with you at first sight, the moment you made eye contact with him. it seems irrational, but he knows you're the one for him!

there are two scenarios:

ONE. you are in heartslabyul. he has hit the jackpot. oh he will spoil you with his sweets, and even use his unique magic to have his pastries taste to your liking.

or TWO. you're assigned in a different dorm, he'll just prepare a lunchbox for you, full of his treats! after all, he is exceptional in baking, so there'll be no way you won't like his gift.

however, he doesn't like it when you talk to other students :(( he has already given you enough, he's also a package of green flags too! (according to him). but!! he'll make an exception, you're allowed to talk to riddle (only for school matters). TREY may not look like it, but he's willing to spill some blood for you~

if anything has he developed a strangest obsession, there is one. he has some… weird fascination about your teeth. they look so perfectly neat, he thinks, even with the amount of pastries he has given you, you still manage to take care of your teeth!

he's just so obsessed with you, you keep occupying his mind all day! but—he thinks it's a bad thing, you have been living in his mind for too much!

sometimes, TREY watches you happily take a bite on his pastries, glancing at your teeth that were dirtied by sweet flavors. oh how he loved to add those in his secret tooth collection, maybe he'll get yours displayed, because he adores you so much!

oh, and remember what i said about others taking your time from him and he gets mad because of it so he might kill them? he may have collected their teeth also, after he either brutally killed them, or poisoned their treats. of course, no one knows about this particular hobby of his, but he is one tooth collector. some even have fresh blood with it. also he puts them in this weird jar that are just... full of teeth that he pulls out from his victims.

back to you! he gets internally conflicted, he wants you to be close to him but at the same time, he wants to stay away from you. TREY's mind is in shambles, he needs to cut you off from his life but you keep getting near to him! he swears, you're like a drug. he has to stop interacting with you, or else he'll just indulge with his obsessions more.

riddle noticed this, and told TREY that he was unusually too distracted to do his work, which was the latter's last thing he would want in his life. he's seen as the calm and composed one in his dorm, too :(

he had no one else to blame but you. how dare you enter his mind and heart effortlessly? he thinks you're too cute, too sweet for such a school that is full of people with twisted personalities.

he needs to act fast, or he'll get lost to these delusions. he might have to break you himself, before he could indulge in things called "love".

maybe one day when he confronts you, it's either he cages you in to be with him or he brutally murders you. either way, he'll still get your precious teeth as a collection, a remembrance of you for him. <3

© MIKALIMS.

[pomefiore-visitor]

trey odontophilia drabble w/ a g/n reader cw for odontophilia and teeth. lil bit of dumbification

i do not consent to minor interaction, minors dni

How you ended up with Trey’s fingers in your mouth was a mystery to you.

Although, based on everything that you’ve known about Trey up until this point, it really was a simple solution — he was a freak about teeth. More specifically, your teeth. What started off as a chaste kiss snowballed into something much more heated, needy keens into his mouth encouraging his tongue to swipe along your incisors. And the result of all of this ended up with the digits of his fingers replacing the slick pink muscle.

“Your molars are so sharp and pretty…” He mused at you, running his fingerpads along the bone there. Your head was still spinning from the pullback, and all you could manage was to look at him dumbly, eyes cloudy and drooping. It’s as though the oil from his pores were a sweet aphrodisiac.

It felt a little strange, getting so easily pacified and red in the face by the meer notion Trey was admiring your mouth. But it was making your head spin, leaving you with a fuzzy feeling that dulled your thoughts. You felt an almost pride that he would admire your teeth as much as he does.

A gentle rhythm is found around Trey’s wandering fingers. And in letting your eyes flutter shut, your body subconsciously rocking into the intrusion. It feels so good to let go, to let him praise you for being so easy and letting him get into your mouth with such ease. The soft whispered praises he gives feel like hushed kisses, barely intelligible as he cups your jaw with his wet hand.

“Gorgeous…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, parted and now drooling. “Such a sweet little mouth.” And as strange as it all is, you’re more than happy to provide fuel for his morbid fascinations. Just as he would like to have it.

[zgvlt]

acquired tastes trey clover x reader

summary: how food has brought you and trey together as friends, and later on as something more

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, friends to lovers, 3.2k+ words, kissing, not descriptive but food is mentioned a lot, not beta read

author’s note (see end notes for more): The second fic to my five senses series. also, i did not write half of this sober oops and still not very sober, so if you see any typos... i will fix them when i can

[you can also read this on AO3]

You had shocked everyone the day you called him your husband, although nobody was more shocked than he was. As far as he was aware, he was not even your boyfriend, so being handed the title of your husband felt like… a promotion through nepotism and bribery. 

The nepotism equating to his being your close friend, the bribery being the food he began to habitually make for you. Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to him that it happened so often that once-in-a-while gifts and favors had turned into routine and grateful expectations.

“Husband?!”

And of all people you had to say it in front of, it just had to be Riddle, who was somehow more flustered than he was… which was saying quite a lot, considering he was one wrongly-timed swallow away from choking. That would probably lead to the both of you getting lectured by his childhood friend.

Well, Trey thought to himself, he was probably going to get dragged into this conversation anyway, and he had no real plans of being in opposition to it.

There wasn’t like he had much to explain, considering he was relatively curious as well.

“Oh, you know, like a work husband… but for school?”

“A what?! Why would you have a separate spouse for work?” asked Riddle, and Trey wondered why you would even think that Riddle would know what a work husband was. “Or is it like the opposite of a stay-at-home husband? So… if it’s for school, a student husband? I know that Trey had his birthday recently, but that’s still…”

“Okay, okay, I’m not married. No one is, Riddle,” Trey finally interrupted, not sure he would like the way his friend’s train of thought was heading. 

“I don’t actually think the two of you are married,” Riddle said with a huff, although Trey’s not quite sure he buys it completely. Perhaps that had been Riddle’s attempt at mocking a friend? “It’s just… a weird choice for an endearment for two people of your age.”

“I mean, in this case it’s less endearment and more… It’s just an expression for two people who share a close relationship, and those two happen to work together. A relationship as friends.”

“Yeah! It’s like… because Trey is so supportive and trustworthy and kind and—”

“Okay, I know you want to help explain, but aren’t you saying too much?” Trey interjected, self-consciousness growing as he watched the look of realization slowly appear on Riddle’s face. What exactly was being realized Trey could not determine, but he doubted it was anything short of embarrassing. 

“—and Trey also makes the best pastries and desserts, and he’s also gotten pretty good at making lunch as well, and also he’s…” you trailed off upon catching his eye, as if you saw something to convince you enough compliments had been said, “basically, he’s wonderful and the epitome of an ideal partner in marriage, or just partner in general. So, you know, school husband!”

After a moment of silence, likely held for Trey more than anyone else, Riddle nodded his head in understanding.

“Not that I don’t agree, because I would say Trey possesses the qualities you speak of, but… isn’t husband quite a step too far? People will get visceral reactions,“ case in point, Riddle, “so why don’t you just call him your–”

“Riddle, fifteen minutes have passed since you’ve finished your meal. Shouldn’t we all head out of the hall now?”

Heartslabyul’s vice dorm leader never thought he would bring up the rules like this, especially in front of Riddle who he wished would stop following the rules too much, but he realized he was not against doing so if it helped him escape a tough situation. 

As Riddle grumbled over how he was less than a minute away from breaking a rule, he did not miss the pointed stare you threw him. 

“Maybe Riddle has a point. Should I just call you my school boyfriend, then?”

Boyfriend or husband, one thing stayed the same—Trey could not say he minded you considering him as either one, and that fact had served as the primary reason as to why he did not stop you from calling him as such.

It was easy to see where it had all begun—easy for him to see, at the very least. 

It had to be the night you chose to sneak into Heartslabyul's kitchen, far past bedtime, perhaps not quite realizing that he would still be in there, busy making sure every tart and cake would be put into the refrigerator for cooling, that no one would go steal something without replacing it. 

He tried not to make a habit of staying up too late for anything other than academics, but he supposed some habits were meant to be broken once or twice or every once in a while. Maybe he should be thankful he had been awake that night, only because he didn’t think he could ever have gotten close to you otherwise.

“Midnight snacking?” he had asked calmly, only really staring you down to make sure the food you retrieved wouldn’t be needed for tomorrow’s unbirthday party. On that note… were there actually any? His dorm’s first years were growing boys who enjoyed large portions, so premade food was usually low in quality. “Just make sure to brush your teeth after.”

“Will do~” he remembered you agreeing quite easily, too busy opening cupboard to cupboard in search of something edible to argue against the importance of good dental hygiene. By the disappointed look on your face, though, it was evident you couldn’t find any outside of the ingredients he often used in baking. 

To this day, Trey wonders if he would have stopped you then if you had asked to take some of the berries and chocolates reserved for pastries, or if he would have offered you a tart of your choosing from the selection to be served later that afternoon.

“You usually aren’t here this late, so I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“So you’ve been here past midnight more than a few times?”

You had only laughed, although it appeared as though you were more ashamed of admitting it to him rather than the actions themselves. 

“On occasion,” you had replied with a hum, quietly eyeing him as he worked away with the last tray of dough. Back then, he had expected you to ask him for one—perhaps you were, wordlessly, a stare that remained intense even as you innocently batted your eyes at him. “Would you kick me out, then?”

“I’m not doing that,” he shrugged, more concerned over the fact that someone else was up this late rather than curfews or rule-breaking or anything of the sort, “but you should probably go back to bed. I can’t send you off with anything to eat, but what about a drink? Tea, milk, hot cocoa…?”

Trey remembers what you asked for, of course but what had really stuck in his mind was the way you gave him a knowing smile—he had never really had the chance to properly talk to you before then, but there you were, smiling at him like you’ve known him for years, like you understood him and his very being.

“Trey is a really caring person, isn’t he?”

Because Trey has been far gone for far longer than he would like to admit, he’s increasingly lenient with you. That’s not to say he just lets you get away with whatever you want (although you’ve never actually asked for something unreasonable before) but he definitely lets you get away with more things than he should.

“Now that’s not very nice,” Trey chided playfully… or, what he presumed had come off as playful. People tended to take his jokes seriously, and by the way you froze mid-scoop of the batter, he really did think you thought he was actually scolding you. Seriously, what had become of his reputation… “as long as the spoon is clean and you don’t double scoop, you can taste it.”

“Ah, I mean, I can just wait,” you laughed awkwardly, as though you felt bad all of a sudden, “geez, now it’s coming off as if I’m expecting you to give me… whatever it is you’re making.”

“Because you do expect it, and I always end up giving you some of everything,” Trey said, perhaps more self-aware than you at this moment. “I don’t mind, really, it’s always nice to get a second opinion.”

“Why are you making it sound like it’s my fault you give in so quickly?” you said, giving him an accusatory glance, “and hello, we know you’re confident when it comes to sweets. You’re wonderful 99% of the time—”

“Just 99%...?”

“—and the other 1%, you can just use your UM. You messing up is not even in the realm of possibilities.”

“Well, that aside, you were going to taste it if I didn’t catch you, so might as well?”

It takes Trey a while to realize what he’s really doing. He’s conscious enough to know that he’s grabbing a spoon from one of the drawers, to know that he’s scooping up a small but sufficient serving of batter with it. It’s only when the spoon is already against your lips that he recognizes the implications of his actions. What’s more, he can’t even retract his hand, not when you take a small bite, ultimately spoon fed by him.

Both of you look shocked—at each other’s actions, and at the actions you yourselves have committed. With the way the both of you reacted, it was as though some obscure rule by the Queen of Hearts had been broken, although from the half that Trey had memorized, he sincerely doubted it.  

What question had prevailed more in Trey’s head—the question of why he tried to give you a taste in that manner, or why you took a bite anyway instead of calling him out immediately?

“Aha, um, Trey–”

“It’s not what you think,” Trey immediately cut in, trying to look for a justification. Perhaps he should have thought harder, taking the time to word an explanation in his head rather than simply pouring his thoughts out like piping hot tea. “It’s not that I think of you as one of my siblings or as a kid. That’s not it at all.”

He said it as if that was the pressing matter, the misunderstanding to be avoided.

Perhaps it was, by the way your confused expression changed into relief with just a lingering hint of surprise. 

“That’s… pfft, that’s good to know. Thank you for letting me know, Trey.”

Trey’s not dense—he knows why his juniors have begun teasing him (and you), he knows the reason behind Vil’s snickering near-perfectly covered by his gloved hand, and he recognizes the inspiration behind the countless poems Rook has insisted he listen to.

The both of you, he thinks, are sensible people (sensible enough to not repeat the same actions in public, to keep everything in the kitchen—although he’s had one or two close calls, usually when you can’t help yourself from joking about it), but sense and sensibility can only go so far when his mouth listens less to the brain and more to the heart.

“Sure, I gotcha,” Trey agreed, not quite grasping what he’d committed to doing until the words leave his lips, “I’ll make lunch for you tomorrow.”

By all means it probably should not sound so big a deal—he made you small snacks and sweets all the time, taste and ingredients used adjusted to your liking. There was no denying anymore that those were for you specifically, not just things he was willing to give you bite-sized portions of.

But a meal was a big deal. The moment sugar and flour get taken away from the recipe, Trey’s confidence dwindles in his abilities. 

Not completely. He’s decent in regular cooking, just as he thinks himself decent in most things, but just decent would be troublesome in the long run. There was the Salisbury steak he specialized in, some variations of that, and the recipes he learned from the cooking elective program, but what would happen after that?

Yes, Trey knows that once he cooks lunch for you, there will be more and more times—whether it be by your request or his own volition—where he cooks you breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. Trey understands himself quite well, after all, so that much is just an inevitability. 

Should he search up recipes online, or should he consult the books in the library? He could send a text message to his parents and hope that he’ll sound normal enough—though they might question his intent considering there’s plenty of cooked food for purchase and consumption at school… 

“Wait, you don’t have to,” you protest, “wow, I can’t believe I’m actually protesting receiving food from you, but… isn’t that a waste of time? I should at least pay you.”

Trey’s natural instinct is to outright refuse. He doesn’t do these things to gain something out of it, just does it because he can; that your time and the evident admiration you hold for him—whatever extent that may truly be—was more than enough payment, enough to convince him to keep going.

His and your respective actions hurt neither one of you, so there was no reason to stop.

Trey’s second instinct is to joke, to tell you that you could pay for the ingredients, perhaps ask for an incredibly absurd amount of money that would be easily understood as a joke even with his line delivery.

He does neither. Instead, he asks—

“Maybe you could help me make lunch instead?”

The both of you are in the kitchen again. At some point, it had become common knowledge that if anyone needed to find either one of you, the first and best place to look would be Heartslabyul’s kitchen.

With all the time spent there, people would assume the both of you were cooking 24/7… but how sorely mistaken they would be.

Not to say there were no attempts, it was just… slow. Particularly when there was no schedule to be followed or deadline to be had.

Trey’s not one to push blame onto one person even for the most obvious of faults, definitely not so candidly, but the turn of events would be more your fault than his. It was a current that Trey did not get caught up in, but rather a flow he willingly went along with.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Trey asked, absentmindedly flipping through the recipe book displayed on the stand. The cake to be served for this afternoon’s unbirthday party had already been prepared, simply cooling in the fridge and waiting to be served, so there was no real reason to be looking through the pages.

If you asked, he was simply thinking about dinner… even though the book was primarily for sweets and pastries.

“Actually, it was husband first, and then boyfriend,” you corrected.

“Yeah, almost forgot my demotion there for a sec… or was it meant to be some form of promotion?”

“Not really, they’re the same thing. I was just letting you choose which one you liked more,” you laughed, opening the fridge to retrieve the sweets to be served in just a bit. That was the reason both of you were in the kitchen, after all, to get the food and not to chat, not to tease and be teased, and certainly not… would this classify as flirting? 

Yes, absolutely yes. He supposed he’s just been lulled to the idea that you simply do act differently with him, but there are certain things that you do and say that are new, as if something had finally clicked for you. 

As for Trey, something’s clicked for him too.

“Hmm… I suppose I’ll leave the choice to you,” Trey replied, pretending to look for the cake knives. He knows where they are, he’s simply… stalling. He wouldn’t call himself a coward, but building up courage requires time away from you in his line of sight. “But aren’t you worried?”

“Of what? Having other people hear?” you seemed to find his question funny, and he could imagine you rolling your eyes behind his back. “I said it in front of Riddle. The only reaction worse would be Ace’s—he’d pretend to be nauseated by us all the time if he heard.”

“Haha, yeah, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“I mean, won’t you… people are going to think I’m actually your boyfriend, so there’ll be less people approaching you,” he said. While he wasn’t exactly satisfied with his wording choice, he thought it got the job done without having to outright ask you directly.

“Ah, I thought it was already obvious that I don’t care about that?” If that wasn’t enough of a green light, you continued, “I… Do I seem interested in others, Trey?”

“Not really, no,” Trey answered with a surprising amount of ease. With how much time he had spent around you, he would notice… and he would admit with the slightest bit of a flush that he was aware that your eyes weren’t wandering around, looking for some other student you were interested in. You kept them on him and when they were not, he kept his own on you.

“I just needed to make sure.”

“Okay… and now that you’re sure, what will you do about it?” 

He pushed the question back to you, “what do you want to do about it?”

He finally turned to face you again, but your eyes did not meet his, not at first. You looked down at the cake on the table, a pretty purple thing with his favorite candies violets topping it.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” you responded. Without missing a beat, leaving no room for Trey to be disappointed, you added, “what I want right now… is a taste.”

Trey does not need to clarify what you pertain to, not when you blatantly look back up in time. Instead, he asks, “are you sure?”

You nod, and he takes a deep breath, holding it, a second for each step towards you. 

“Alright.”

You taste like the biscuits he gave you earlier—that’s the first thing Trey notices the instant his lips touched yours. There are other things, of course, like the spinning of his head and beating of his heart, and some other descriptions he would be able to write out if he had been granted the ability to wax poetic, but it is that lingering taste he focuses on.

It should be embarrassing how much he likes the idea—and more than just the idea—of it, the taste of his cooking in your mouth. Egotistic, something that provides him an unnecessary amount of pride. 

But he likes it for the mere fact that it reminds him of what brought you together in the first place. It is a simple reason, but it is reason enough for him to keep his lips hovered over yours, as if ready to go for another should you allow it.

You laughed, the movement and breath felt against his skin. Then, still quite joyfully, you murmured, “you taste like toothpaste… and maybe mouthwash, too.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” you said, shaking your head, “it reminds me of you, so I like it.”

my other trey fic and the sequel to the other trey fic end notes | masterlist of all my works | series masterlist

[1] This WHOLE thing... the original plan was just to have them kiss and for reader to go "haha you taste like mouthwash", yeah I just wanted to clown on Trey, but then I decided to give them some plot. It's quite standard and not exactly original, I admit, but hopefully it gives some background on how they see each other and their dynamic.

[2] This will probably be my last Trey x Reader for a while… meaning this year. I like him a lot, but it's time to put some focus on other characters, lol. I have characters I've yet to write for, so I should complete my WIPs for them.

[3] The fic banner… I chose the design because candied violets are Trey's favorite food. The cake I was imagining was ube (purple yam) and chocolate cheesecake, topped with candied violets… although I only put one in the design, lol. I got lazy to add more, sorry!

[4] Title Choice: acquired tastes… I usually take a while to figure out a title, but I knew this was the title I wanted even before writing out the fic. I just like how it's like they have acquired a taste of each other, but also they are each other's types -> to their tastes, but also just… food therefore taste. Yeah.

[5] Reading Trey's birthday story, I thought it was amusing that people took his jokes seriously, so I wanted to write Trey more playfully here. Reader is also playful in a different way than Trey, so because their teasing styles are different they get affected by each other, lol.

[6] Like I mentioned, I wanted to get this out for Trey's birthday, but I figured that this wouldn't be very good at all if I tried to make it to the deadline. Anyway, this was originally written for the Five Senses Mini Series I have and not his birthday, so I decided to take my time.

[rs-wonderland]

hii! idk if this is late but can I ask for a valentine's date with Trey Clover with a masc s/o? thank you!

Note to anonymous{hello dear! You are a little late but it alright! I get it, its Valentine's day people are little busy so i don't mind at all! I hope you have a nice Valentine's day, and that you enjoy my fanfic!}

Trey Clover:

♡Oh where to start~? I can talk about Trey Clover being the perfect Valentine for days~!

♡Lets say your not dating, so when its Valentine's day he would confess in the sweetest way!

♡He knows your masc, and pretty strong but you'll still get flowers and a desert darling, we are talking about Trey after all.

♡For desert he would make a cake, and if he isn't sure what flavore you like (or do you even like cakes) he would just use his unique magic!

♡Would confess to you after your classes, and ask you to come in his dorm late (if you said yes ofc)

♡When you agreed to be his Valentine he was relieved, tought you didn't wanted to for a seconed.

♡Date would probably be something like a sweet little picnic in the rose garden. And he would check with Riddle if it's against the rules.

♡After the picnic and great time, he would walk you to your dorm, to make sure you got home safe. Oh and ofc you didn't forget to kiss him (we love teasing our boys~♡).

♡When you closed the door, on his way to the dorm he couldn't stop think about you, great day you two had and a kiss.

♡The first thing he did, texted you. Telling you how he had an amazing day and was hoping to repeat that.

♡And he didn't forget to plan your next date as you new boyfriend~!

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

The end <3

[cupids-chamber]

Ok ok, imagine wearing a corset his large hands playing with the strings before undoing the bow, gently tugging the strings and tightening the corset around your waist. He let's out a throaty chuckle as he watches your reaction, the way you gasp to catch your breath.. and then he'd grasp your waist tightly, pulling you in for a kiss <3

[katskitoshi]

"MY TYPE IS..." with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: you respond to a "what's your type?" question with his name. how does he react?

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, & deuce x gn! painfully blunt! reader

includes: cursing, non-explicit makeout mention,

heartslabyul(here), savanaclaw+octavinelle, scarabia+pomefiore, ignihyde+disomania.

grim, as always, was nagging you with questions in front of your crush and group of friends. they're all left to their own devices until grim asks, "what's your type?" and the attention of your crush falls on you for your answer.

riddle rosehearts, dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my ideal type? well, he's red-haired, with grey eyes, whose short and just happens to be the dorm leader of heartslabyul!"

the "ideal crush" in question was as red as his hair. he almost spits his tea out.

you practically confessed to riddle! or at least told him he's the type you're looking for.

riddle looks at you like you've gone mad, not even realizing he's been actively staring at you.

"[name], are you serious?" he questions, calming himself down. you look at him confused.

"why wouldn't i be serious? was my clear description of you, riddle rosehearts, my crush, not enough?"

he still looks at you confused. riddle fully understands, it's just.. you're being so straightforward about it! he can't handle how blunt you're being with your advances.

you sigh, "since you still aren't understanding, i like you riddle. is that clear enough?"

"no, i am not as red as my hair! ugh, yes, [name]. i understood just well. it just took me a while to get used to how blunt you were. but, i guess i could say you're my ideal type too. and i guess i like you too."

trey clover, vice dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my type's obviously a green-haired, amber-eyes, glasses-wearing, hot baker with a clover on his cheek."

doth trey's ears deceive him? you obviously just described him. he has green hair, yellow eyes, glasses, and a clover on his cheek. plus, he's a baker!

trey doesn't even realize he's stared at you, the tart he made long forgotten on his plate.

you stare at him like you didn't just say he was your type. "um, [name]?" "yeah?"

trey looks at you, takes a deep breath and asks, "do you like me?"

"of course i do, silly! i wouldn't have described you as my type if i didn't."

trey takes a deep breath once again. thank the great seven.

"oh thank goodness. i liked you too but i didn't really know how to approach it. i was gonna make you a (favorite dessert) with "will you be mine?" on it, but i guess i don't have to anymore. oh? i should still do it? well, i guess you'll just have to come over to heartslabyul tonight for a surprise, dear."

cater diamond, heartslabyul third year.

"do you even have eyes? my type is this really cute guy with orange hair, green eyes, a red diamond on his face, a heartslabyul third year and magicam influencer! aka, the hottest guy in the world!"

he squeals. cater lets out a loud, high-pitched, squeal that would be associated with preppy high school girls in movies. people would have noticed if it wasn't for the already loud cafeteria.

he moves to the seat next to you, holding you by your waist.

"[name], do you really like me?" the smile on his face blinds you, but you can see he has a hint of worry in his green eyes. imagine how disappointed he'd be if you were to like some other heartslabyul guy that looked exactly like him.

you lean in, hooking a arm around his neck and using your hand to push his head into your lips. your lips kiss him and you can taste his lime tart and cherry chapstick.

"is.. is that enough to prove to you that i love you?" you pant after the kiss, looking at cater's reddened face.

"haha! that was more than enough, but how about you prove to me how much you love me a bit more, cutie?"

(you guys make out and have to be forcefully separated becuase the friend group does NOT approve of the pda.)

ace trappola, heartslabyul first year.

"okay, so he's a fucking pain in the ass and a stupid idiot but i love him, y'know? his orange-red hair and the stupid heart on his face and that silly grin his makes when he does something dumb like breaking riddles rules or messes up a potion or something.. he may be a fucking dumbass but he's a dumbass i have a crush on."

first of all, ouch.

he's not a pain in the ass or a stupid idiot! and his heart isn't stupid and his grin isn't silly- wait, did you say you have a crush on him?

ace is flattered, but that would never ever stop him from being a little shit about it.

i mean, you called him a stupid idiot you love, right? so that means that he can be a dumbass and you'll still forgive him, right? of course you will, he thinks.

"[nickname]~ you have a crush on me? aww, you're too cute! of course you'd like me, i'm hot, i have a cute grin,-- what! i'm not an idiot!"

deuce spade, heartslabyul first year.

"what a silly question! anyways, my type is tall, blue-haired, and a real cutie! he has this cute little spade on his face but hes kinda dumb. i love it about him though! the pout on his face he gets when he's confused is adorable!"

queue cute, confused deuce.

"aw look, he's doing the little confusion pout right now! ah, i have the biggest crush on him!" you gush, and the color drains from his face before it comes back as a vibrant red blush.

he bangs his head on the table, making a cute whimpering noise.

when he finally looks up, still blushing, he's met with your smile and almost topples over. you're gonna give him a heart attack!

"don't embarrass me like that! ugh, but since we're on the matter, y-yeah i like you, too."

[mochinomnoms]

When you posted about twst not having the same foods it made my brain go... "what if their bf really tried to recreate the food based on description only"

Imagine Azul toiling away in the kitchen trying to re-create Bugals from scratch

Jade testing out different combinations of potions to recreate coca cola

Floyd trying to make the grandma candy that taste like strawberries

Jamil fighting with spices to make hot cheetos

Trey baking Twinkees and oatmeal cream pies

Lilia trying to make Macdonald fries but just creating poison

They all understand how food can help with homesickness and they want to do everything they can to help, even if it is trying to make something they have never had before

The ultimate love language is devoting time, money, and materials to recreated your lover's favorite foods. In our world, this could be going to your partner's parents or grandparents to learn their family recipe for a dish, cookie, drink, etc. Or it could be trying to look up a dish that they had growing up, but can't remember. Or maybe it's a cultural dish from their home country that they loved but haven't been able to have because the ingredients are available nearby. Painstakingly measuring, making, tasting, failing and failing over and over again to get it just right. Love is the ultimate love language.

So I think it's beautiful to imagine Azul trying to recreate your favorite dish based solely how you described how it looked, smelled, and tasted. Making the lounge's kitchen a mess until he can get it just right.

Trey calling his parents to describe the sweet treats and cookies you described. They're digging through their recipes so that he can combine and take what he needs to recreate them.

Jade has full confidence in his potion making skills, yet is dumped when you can only describe your favorite soda as "sugary and fizzy." He racks his brain over and over, taste testing the concoctions himself until he's positive they won't poison you, then bringing you into his little sessions to remake your favorite soda together.

Jamil, familiar with some spices and chilies you describe, but the others sound so otherworldly, messing around with the ingredients he's familiar with to make your favorite foods and snacks. He knows they'll never be the same, but that he they are good enough for you to want to stay.

Floyd is nothing if not determined. If he can't make you that candy you love so much, he's going into the ends of the earth to find you his world' equivalent. Don't question how he managed to get over a hundred different candies, some incredibly rare, others expensive as hell. His father has connections and money, it's nothing to spend on you.

And Lilia…well. He means well. It might be better to let him watch you make some of your favorite dishes, as well as you can when you're missing ingredients. He can watch and slowly start to understand, as you burn and hiss from the splattering oil, why food is a love language for humans too.

Food is a timeless love language. If it doesn't mean time and effort, it means money and sharing an experience that makes you happy. It's shared by nearly every culture, in your world and theirs, for a reason. Love is giving food when you're poor, love is the cuts and burns on your hands and arms, love is in the taste on your tongue, love is the smell you wake up to. Love is the effort, the time, the care. Love is food. And they love you.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Meg! Reader (Meg from Disneys Hercules) with the twst boys? Just her being sassy and refusing them because of how her last relationship ended.

Megara Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Burned by love before and quick with a comeback, your beauty and affection is tauntingly out of reach of all. But don’t forget you’re poor soul isn’t yours anymore however it is the property of the lord of the Underworld…who in this world apparently no longer exists. It makes for an awkward voice in your ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Kidding? Babe, I’m Hades the one and only and I’m not going anywhere.”

Idia Shroud

Somehow keeps ending up in the most lucky leecher situations with you

Its almost like some ancient deity is stepping in to give him some ‘extra help’

“I didn’t call for a summons-assists! Please!”

He’ll whine about it 

But he loves it more than anything

When is he going to get a chance to crop a feel 

Or somehow be trapped in a tight closet with you

Someone must be smiling down more like up at on him

Maybe that’s who he can thank for those rival npc’s dying in odd monster attacks

Trey Clover

“Hey (Y/n), what are you doing here?”

“What’s it matter to you, hotshot?”

“Well I just wanted to check in on you, see what you thought of this cake I’ve made.”

He always appears out of nowhere 

Foiling whatever plans Hades has you going on

You’re captor seems to like him though

Especially after that one flirt’s untimely end with food poisoning

“I like the guy! Burns like an invisible fire!”

[hisui-dreamer]

definitely not prophetic!

Character: Riddle Rosehearts, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchi, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Idia Shroud, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia

pick one of your favs from above when reading!

Masterlist

imagine having dreams of him every night, each time showcasing him with you, perfectly in love in different scenarios. sometimes you're on vacation and you're exploring some new place, sometimes you're waking up in his embrace as sunlight peeks through the window, and on the rare occasion, you hear bell-like laughter from children running up to you, dragging him along by pulling at his hand, the very picture of domestic bliss

you're not sure what to make of these dreams, you don't even know him that well, having met him just a few weeks ago, and now you're having these dreams about him? what if they were prophetic dreams? no, no, you shouldn't think that way, you don't even have any feelings towards him, so isn't saying they're prophetic dreams too much of a stretch? it almost sounds like you want it to become reality! there's no proof any of these visions are set to happen! you still want to go home after all!

home. that's right, you should be going home. that's your utmost priority, and if anything you should be avoiding the person who keeps appearing in your dreams, juust in case they are prophetic dreams which they are not because he'll keep you tied to twisted wonderland.

only if you keep avoiding a person who has never once interacted with you, you'll only intrigue them more. he didn't mind the fact at all, but as he's observing you from the window, joking around with all your other friends that you have obviously not avoided, he feels a smidge of hurt and maybe even jealously.

he's hearing all this praise about what a nice person you are, how willing you are to help others and talk to other people, meanwhile your attitude towards him is a complete 180; avoiding his gaze when he's trying to speak with you, running off with some random excuse of an errand, or even straight up turning away the moment you locked eyes with him! isn't this a little bit too cruel?

meanwhile, you can't say your feelings for him are entirely hostile. it'd be too difficult to hate a person who always smiles so endearingly at you, who holds you like you mean the entire world to them, whose laugh always washes away any trace of fatigue in you. you're cursing yourself for being so easily swayed by these dreams, but thankfully this motivates you to further limit your interactions with him.

this, of course, does not go unnoticed by him. and to say he's upset is the understatement of the century. what has he done to provoke you this time?! he's only tried to be nice to you, make good conversation, sevens, he's even tried to bribe you with your favourite food that he overheard you mention!

ok, he's having none of this avoiding, at the very least he demands an explanation as to why you act so strangely only around him.

he seizes the opportunity when it comes, a hand next to your head, pinning you against the stone wall in a silent hallway. his narrowed eyes peer into yours, and you can't help but get lost in the clarity that often eludes you in your dreams. his eyes glisten with a captivating sparkle, framed by delicate eyelashes, and you can almost imagine his voice murmuring sweet nothings to you as he showers you in affection...

no, no, no! this is exactly why you're avoiding him!!

you feel your face heat up so much so that it feels like a blazing furnace, radiating so intensely that it sparks a whirlwind of dizziness within you. you avert your gaze to the ground and you try to get out of this situation, but he's not having any of it.

he tilts your chin upwards so you'll face him once again, his touch gentle and familiar just like the ones in your dreams, and he's granted the sight of you, blushing and flustered and so so overwhelmed and-

...oh?

did... did his heart just skip a beat?

[moonjellybeans]

Jade and Trey not being able to keep their hands off each other is my favourite thing. Whoever caught them is lucky they got there before clothes started coming off, just sayin'.

[zgvlt]

it lies with you trey clover x reader

sequel to: where loyalty lies (which is required reading to fully understand the background of this fic)

summary: five snippets of Sir Trey Clover's life after his confession to you, his liege

author's note: a gift for a mutual, who once asked me about what happens to reader and trey after the events of "where loyalty lies". as usual, additional notes at the end of the fic :>

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, knight x nobility, commoner x nobility, established relationship, 3.3k+ words

[you can also read this on AO3]

I.

His being your lover was an open secret in the estate. 

Truthfully, the only reason it still qualified as a secret was because neither he nor you would admit it. That was just how it was in the world of aristocracy—no matter how evident, and painfully so, the truth was to the eyes of the public, none of the involved parties could ever admit it—if they knew what was good for them, that is. To admit was to invite defeat, and for Trey who has everything to lose and you who has so much more to gain, he would not stand for it.

It is at these times that Trey Clover finds himself reverting to one of his old habits—simply ignoring the problem, allowing it to foster, and naturally letting it dwindle down. He supposed he should feel more troubled by the chosen solution, but truthfully he was not—although there were outliers, namely you and Riddle, most nobles chose to ignore their problems, so may the Queen herself forgive him for following their footsteps.

There were many times Trey did want to speak it to the world—that you were not just his liege, but love itself—and just as much did he want you to introduce him not just as your most beloved knight but simply your beloved—but even then he never found himself lacking of your affection and attention. 

It is found in the way you squeeze his arm and shoulder when you ask him to escort you somewhere, or the way your knees press against his in carriage rides to town. It is when you flick a badge you yourself have adorned him with or fix the fabric of his uniform, and when you genuinely praise him for his improvements in swordsmanship. 

There are traces of your affection everywhere, it is just that he cannot quite get enough.

Sir Trey Clover, the giver, has learned from you how good it feels not just to receive, but to take, and take, and take, and take.

II.

By the looks your guardians threw at him, he was certain they knew what everybody else in the state knew even months before. Once upon a time he had wondered why they had refused to call either one of you out; it would have been so easy, to have him demoted or transferred, to break the both of you apart, or to even just warn him and you to be subtler in public. 

Trey thinks up numerous reasons for their silence: denial, that perhaps what the two of you had was temporary; a need to remain in your good graces, so that when you eventually take over the duchy they would not be stripped of their lifestyle; indifference, as it was not so uncommon for nobles these days to not marry, be it to one of equal standing or by and large; and acceptance, a genuine care they possessed for you.

Whatever the reason may be, it was a blessing, truly, considering that no matter how many times he has penned an explanation in his head, he could never quite imagine actually admitting the nature of your relationship to them specifically. 

Although, if there was another thing to be thankful for, it would be the letters—not once have you received a letter of courtship, or an offer of anything beyond an invitation to afternoon tea. There was never anything scandalous, anything that required carefully chosen wording on your end as to why you wouldn’t be able to accept, and it brings to question who could be responsible. It’s impossible for Trey to fathom that you would not receive any—not just because of your position as the future, albeit already acting, head of the duchy, but because of every other desirable and lovely trait within you.

Trey knows someone is responsible—if not your guardians, then everyone else in the estate.

It could be said that the maids were the main source of gossip, as they tend to be in writings of fiction and the babbling of nobles, but when it came to your dukedom, it has always been the knights, in particular the two who began the rumor in the first place. It was more so that red-headed esquire of yours, the one who perpetuated it, kept it going for as long as it did—due to him especially, he was certain a knight or two genuinely believed he was brought in as your knight due to his being your lover.

He was sure everyone had assumed you and him were seeing each other for far longer than what could be considered true. While in reality it had only really been ten months… and twenty-five days, everyone seemed to think it had been going on for at least two years.

It was a case of what came first, his being your significant other, or his being your knight.

Trey is proud to be either one, so he supposes it does not matter too much what people believe came first—as long as they know his devotion, his loyalty, lies with you, then that is all that really matters.

III.

With the change of relationship status, it seemed expected for the both of you to be inseparable. That assumption is not exactly wrong, for there are many days when they are the definition of that, especially in your manor. 

When he is at the training grounds you are there as well, either watching from a distance or joining when you feel up for it. When you are in your study, doing paperwork and attempting to lessen your mountain of invitations and letters, he’s there as well, delivering you pastries he’s made himself, aiding you in whatever way he can. You often opt to eat your meals with him, and he makes it a point to convince you to get some proper rest whenever he catches you awake past midnight. 

However, Trey’s not surprised that times would come where you would be gone for days at a time—even a week or two, if it’s to a territory far from your own, farther than even his hometown. 

He learns that there used to be times when you would be gone for months, that you’ve simply been avoiding taking those trips if you could not find a way to take him with you, and the thought of it warms his heart to an unreasonable degree.

He also learns that when you let him know he has an assignment in the Rosehearts Dukedom, you’ll be going somewhere he’s not allowed to follow. You’ve always been sweet that way—knowing that being surrounded by friends and family lessens his loneliness, but as much as he loves them it cannot alleviate the longing.

The morning after he returns back home—home, wherever you reside he will see as home—you arrive from your trip, immediately surging the training grounds to search for him. The knight commander lets him go from training easily, even without him asking. Favoritism is at play, and Trey allows himself to be spoiled by that which you are willing to give him. 

“Welcome home, my liege,” Trey said, immediately embracing you once the both of you were in the confines of your study. He has never thought himself the type of man to crave physical affection, yet now he melts at the way the tips of your fingers caress his face, as if to once more familiarize yourself with each and every detail, the lines and curves that he is made up of. 

“None of that my liege right now,” you replied to him, a half-hearted attempt at sounding upset. Honestly, you sounded more tired than anything—he knows you’re tired. You were not expected to return until 2 days from today, just as he was not expected to return until tomorrow. He wonders if you had managed a good excuse to leave earlier than intended, or if you had simply left wordlessly, a display of power.

“If you insist on my liege, should I call you Sir Trey Clover as well?”

“You know I am happy to be called by name if it’s you.” A quick laugh escaped the knight's lips. “To be even addressed as my knight would fill me with bliss.”

“For someone who is passable at poetry at best, you certainly have a way with words,” you said with a sigh, “or is it simply me feeling such a way because it is you who says it?”

“I am glad I am not alone in that feeling, then,” Trey admitted, although he has admitted as much to you a hundred times before in the past, “everything you say makes me feel a certain type of way. It is only you who possesses that power over me, my liege.”

“Then call me by my name,” you asked of him, head still half-buried in his training clothes, “or the other lovely names you usually use, even the overly sweet ones you use to poke fun at me. I want to hear any and all of them once more. We’re alone right now, aren’t we?”

“Anyone could come in as they please,” he retorted weakly, knowing that the two of you were still holding each other, without so much an intention as to let go. Hypocrisy.

“Trey…” He knows that look on your face—you’re pleading with him the best you could, pulling an expression you know he can never quite say no to, too madly and deeply enamoured with you. More than the look on your face, it’s the way you say his name that convinces him to drop his guard completely—or, it is simply that you chose to say his name.

He understands it, then—the particular need you must have been feeling.

“As if I can ever resist you,” he replied, with all of the fondness he felt seeping out of his throat and onto his lips as he kissed your forehead, “you know I could never, my love.”

IV.

It was common for those born of noble blood, those sponsored by nobles, and even children of wealthy merchants to take up a class or multiple from their early years up until they reached the age of adulthood. These varied from person to person, sometimes based on natural skill or interest, many a times based on what was deemed most useful, and most commonly those talents that their house was known for.

As the heir to the dukedom, you had experienced the good and bad of all those classes, those that you were most drawn to and those that you struggled with, that bored you to death but still learned anyway in the hopes that they would all pay off in the end.

Trey’s not exactly surprised by your skillset. Riddle had amassed quite the amount himself, and his other friend was quite the talented magician, so he was no stranger to the brilliant and the gifted. What he’s truly surprised by is how you use those skills you have picked up long ago to impress him.

The first time he had truly noticed it had been during last year’s annual tournament, one between knights coming from all over the Queendom of Hearts. While he chose not to participate in every event, you having two more than willing, newly promoted knights willing to stake their names for you, he found it necessary he participate in one for you.

It had been a last minute decision, him repeatedly telling you he wasn’t sure if he wanted to join any in the first place, but when he had told you he had signed up for it the day of, you had presented him with a handkerchief immediately, with a neatly embroidered three-leaf clover at the edge.

You had a feeling he would participate in something, you told him, although Trey thinks you would have found a way to give it to him even if he didn’t.

He made sure to place then, just some points short of first on the rankings, but enough to be able to dedicate his win to you. Trey was not oblivious—he knew the attention was on him and you, the rumors that have since escaped the borders of your territory, but as uncomfortable as the eyes digging through your backs were he knew the necessity of this action as well. He knew you would approve.

Trey Clover has never known himself to be a manipulative person… is what he will tell everyone, with his closed-eyed chuckles and scratches to his neck. Even with the doubtful glances from some of your peers, it gets easier to believe he isn’t with his general disposition.

If you ask, he does genuinely he is not one, but that is not to say he does not know how to do so. He learns to not shy away from subtly guiding the narrative to something beneficial for the both of you, because what will benefit him lends an arm in benefiting you.

While there are things that don’t exactly cast him in the best of lights, they make him come off as someone far smarter, more powerful than he truly is. At the end of the day, Trey still sees himself as someone relatively average, just some guy smitten with you, but if, ironically enough, gaining attention for having a reputation as someone scheming something together with you grants the both of you protection, drives fear that stops people from interfering with his life and yours, so be it.

It makes both of your jobs easier, and allows the both of you to spend more time together doing anything else but work.

You were sitting on the sofa when he entered your study, like you tended to do whenever you needed a break, patting the space to your right to indicate where exactly you wanted him. Even if you had not done so, Trey would have placed himself beside you by habit. 

If you were particularly exhausted, you would have leaned against his arms and shoulders already, wordless and desperately in need of either comfort or slumber, but you mostly kept upright, pen still in hand. You must have been thinking of something.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I had a portrait of you?” 

Trey coughed, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed. Do not get him wrong, he does like the idea of you wanting to keep his likeness around, and he spends much of his free time staring at the paintings of you around the manor, but having you say it aloud is a different experience.

“Yes, I suppose nobles commission artists to paint their sweethearts all the time.”

“I’ve been wondering if I should hire one trustworthy, perhaps the one who painted that portrait you like so much—I’m sure you know what I’m referring to, the one outside my–”

“The one outside this room, yes,” he said with a laugh, “and your other option?”

“If it’s too risky, I might as well just do it myself, Trey. Mind you, I’m out of practice, but I still took lessons in the past.”

“Did you now?”

“Painting, languages, swordsmanship, dance, horseback riding, law and finance… unfortunately not cooking or baking or tea brewing, but I do have you for that, don’t I?” you answered with a smile, “an accumulation of things people thought I should know, which was almost everything. I may have already forgotten over half of the things I once learned, so–”

“Sorry to interrupt honey, but I believe you should hear this before you make your decision,” your hands, ungloved, were captured by his own. “If you do choose to proceed with my… my getting a portrait done, you should pay no relevance as to whether you find your skills adequate enough. What matters most to me is if you believe you will enjoy doing the task yourself, or if you prefer to watch another’s talent unfold instead. There is no harm in either choice.”

“I see your point, but what decision do you like the most, my dear knight?”

“That should also have no relevance, especially put into consideration that you will be the one keeping it… however,” he grinned, “I am sure you are aware that one of those options will surely bring upon my undoing.”

“Upon my hands?”

“Only ever upon yours.”

V.

Sometimes it feels as if many people, in particular outside the manor, disapprove of your being with him, but at times like this Trey remembers just how much nobles enjoy a good, not planned or arranged, not boredom-inducing romance—it must have been fun to them, watching at a distance, not being directly involved.

Not two people scheming, not one controlling the other, but lovebirds who simply don’t care about society anymore… or some other imaginative thought. He supposed those people were always closest to the truth, but he disliked how they made their relationship a spectacle and so did you, so neither of you remained in sight for too long.

“Let’s go to the garden,” you murmured. 

“This is your party, remember?” he murmured back, even as his eyes began roaming around the room, searching for the least crowded exit, searching for some knights he could instruct to keep everyone out but the both of you. “Everyone is here to celebrate your succession.”

“Which is why I should be allowed to come and go as I please,” you replied, “the music is lovely, the food tastes delightful, I am sure most people can stand to wine and dine without me for a few minutes.”

“If I were them, I would never be able to get enough of you.”

“Which is why you’re coming with me to the garden,” you said, a half-hearted attempt to cover up a laugh. Even if he hadn’t begun leading you there, he was sure you would have escorted yourself out anyway, knowing he would follow suit.

Even without instruction, the knights move to cover each and every one of the doors, as if they knew the two of you wanted no unexpected visitors, no one to pry more than they should. After doing a thorough scan of the premises, Trey returned to you, squeezing your hand gently.

“Nobody is here, but we should still remain vigilant.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, and Trey wondered when exactly you took your gloves off.

“Trey, your gloves,” you whisper, not quite heeding his advice. A part of you has always been stubborn, although he supposes it’s easy to let it slide when it’s you. “Let me feel the warmth of your hands.”

“We’re playing a dangerous game right now, your grace.”

“Your grace… I’m going to have to get used to that now, aren’t I? Still, it does not carry the same effect as being called yours, whether it’s being called your liege, or your love, or simply yours.”

“But you can still call me yours, can’t you? Even with the new position, I am still your knight.”

“My knight, you are certainly not being very fair right now.”

“Which is why I was not born a prince, my love,” Trey chuckled, “if I was, I would have made sure to sweep you off your feet on the dance floor… which I unfortunately cannot do considering I never learned any of the social dances.”

“It seems as if you’re inviting me to do something, Trey. Do you want me to sweep you off your feet instead?” you grinned. Still, you did not distance your arms, like the starting positions in dances like these. Instead, you pulled him closer into your intimate embrace.

“Do you want me to lead?”

“If it’s this kind of dance, I am sure even I carry the ability to lead you. We’ve practiced this before, have we not?” he said, and with his arms wrapped behind you he finally took the chance to slip the gloves off of his fingers, if just to allow his fingers to better trace the curves of your face and the lines of your hands. 

“But it does not matter who leads, as long as it’s you with me.”

end notes | masterlist

[1] where loyalty lies is the fic with the least amount of notes (understandably, since it's the longest, with a character who is undeservedly not as popular as the rest sob, and a rather specific trope)... but idc it's one of my favorites 🤷‍♀️

[2] I mentioned this is a gift for a mutual, but this has been in my drafts even before then! I just felt motivated to actually write this out in my free time

[3] the titles of the two fics, "where loyalty lies" and "it lies with you", i went with those titles specifically because of the word lie. it could mean location and placement, but also dishonesty, which i think fit the themes of both fics.

[4] I debated about what to do with Trey and Reader's relationship. Honestly just went with my gut. They don't seem like the type to be like "let's leave the noble society!" but also they aren't the types to just let themselves get ostracized. They're smart people, and I wanted to write about Trey using that brain of his oopsy. I didn't want to write about them struggling at all, even if that might be seen as more realistic. I wanted to write about them rising together, but still being themselves and madly in love with each other. Also, I wanted to write them flirting more since there was not enough of that last time.

[5] This is the nth time I've mentioned portraits, I swear this will be the last time for a while!!! It's just, you know, nobility trope! You obviously have to mention the portrait!

[wolken-himmel]

9k Followers Special

In which Crewel and Crowley somehow manage to destroy the time-space continuum and end up with dozens of mysterious children to care for.

Little do they know that these are (Y/n)'s children from various timelines where she married different NRC students.

Idea by @tickledpink31.

"By the Great Seven, why are there so many children here?!"

Just as Crewel had set a foot into the headmaster's office, he was immediately overwhelmed by the sudden noise of high-pitched wails and children's screams. A barrage of small children had taken over the office, some running around happily while others destroyed the furniture and knocked over vases. There were more than twenty small children, and the oldest couldn't have been much older than seven years. For a while, Crewel merely remained at the entrance and gaped at the crowd of children.

The papers he had intended to deliver to the headmaster sailed out of his hands and fell to the floor. There was pure chaos going on, and his paper spill had exacerbated the issue even more.

It took the headmaster a while to notice his visitor. He had been busy wrangling his poor top hat away from an especially mischievous fae child. After a little while, the headmaster succeeded and managed to put the mangled hat back on his head. Only then did he give his attention to his colleague by the door frame. "O-Oh, Divus! Come right in! Just make sure to shut the door—" the headmaster announced hastily. "Rook Jr is quite the stealthy one..."

Just then, a blond boy tried to zoom past Crewel, but he managed to grab him by his collar and raise him into the air just in time. The professor eyed the rambunctious boy quizzically. "Rook Jr? Is that you?"

The boy let out a sheepish giggle and even gave him a clumsy salute. Somehow, he seemed unbothered by the way he was held into the air. "Aye, monsieur! Maman loved to call me that as well— But my name is actually Philippe. I am the proud protector of my siblings!" he announced proudly and raised his nose upwards.

"Oi, stupid Philippe, as if you were responsible enough to protect Jaques and Laure!" The female voice came from below the professor, and he indeed found a young girl — she shared similar features with Philippe — tugging at his expensive coat. "I, Noelïe, am the protector of the Hunt family!" she corrected and saluted much more properly.

After Crewel had made sure that the door was locked properly behind him, he lowered Philippe to the floor again and removed his grasp from his collar. Without wasting another second, an enraged Philippe stormed over to Noelïe, and they began brawling on the floor.

"Oh my, quarreling siblings..." Crewel watched helplessly as they rolled away.

"Well," Crowley trailed off sheepishly, "at least Umbra and Solis get along better..." His finger pointed to a pair of twins by the other end of the room. Each of the siblings, a boy and a girl, possessed the strange feature of winding, black horns — and not to forget, pointed ears. They wore expensive gowns in the shades of green and black, befit of royals.

"Look, Umbra!" the boy cried out and held out a picture frame to his sister. "I found this floating portrait of the grand witch that Grandpa Lilia always talks about!"

"Oh my, let's show him! I'm sure he has more stories to tell!" Without another word, Umbra had taken the frame out of her brother's hand and was now on the move to another corner of the room. It looked like they really were searching for something with how they lifted up the sofa with their magic, only to lower it to the floor again when they only found dust and cobwebs.

"Where did all these children come from, Dire?"

"I don't know!" Crowley exclaimed and threw his hands into the air. "The heavens must have seen my boredom and blessed me with these adorable bundles of joy—"

"Wait," Crewel interrupted and inspected his boss more closely, "your coat is missing a few feathers—" Indeed, there were gaping holes here and there.

A pained sigh escaped the headmaster's lips as he pointed to a girl with lion ears. She sat on his desk chair and was happily munching away on dozens of black crow feathers. "Ah... yes... the little lioness over there likes them. Ouch, who knew that such ferocity could be hidden behind such an adorable face..." The headmaster buried his face in his gloved hands and began mourning for his poor, tattered gown.

When Crewel turned his gaze to the desk chair again, he realised that it was empty. Instead, he soon found a weight clinging to his left leg. "Sir, do you want to play with me? Play with me, please! Let's play hunting, okay?" A look downwards revealed that the little lion-girl was smiling up at him toothily. "I'll give you a head start, and then you run away as fast as you can? I'll chase you once the time's up! I promise I'm really good at it! My cousin Cheka says I'm the fastest predator he knows, even faster than my daddy!"

"Oh my, what might your name be?" Crewel asked in amusement and ruffled her hair.

"Aria! The fiercest lioness in the entire Afterglow Savannah!" she exclaimed proudly and drummed her hands against her chest, like a seasoned warrior. "No one can scare me! Not even my mommy when she yells at me to eat my vegetables."

The corners of the professor's lips quirked up into an amused smile. "Adorable."

His remark drew a little hiss from her lips, accompanied by an offended scowl. "I'm not adorable! Rawr!" she yelled out, although her roar was more similar to a cute mewl. When she realised that she hadn't intimidated him, she crossed her arms and stalked away to her friends, also beast-children. "Dandelion, you're the fastest hyena I know! Cereus, you're the strongest wolf I know! Come play hunting with me!"

The hyena-girl let out a little snicker before she darted away with nimble feet. "Shishishi, you'll never catch me, princess!" Then, she disappeared within the crowd of other children, never to be seen again.

"I'll show you two how to roar properly after this!" the wolf-boy teased before he also made his grand escape. Without an issue, he lunged over a tall bookshelf and disappeared behind it.

Now that he was free again, Crewel turned his pressing gaze to his boss again and put his hands on his hips. "Alright, Dire, so where did these children really come from? And don't you dare tell me that the stork delivered them to you."

"I don't know." Crowley merely shrugged. "They appeared after I accidentally destroyed the time-space continuum."

"You what—" Crewel spluttered out in horror.

The headmaster raised his hands into the air and shot his colleague the most calming smile he could muster. "I swear, I didn't mean to! It was all just an unfortunate accident... But you know, a wise man once said that there were no mistakes, only happy accidents! And can you believe it? Now we're surrounded by adorable, little children—" The happy grin on his lips disappeared, and he soon rushed over to a duo of children by the window. "Wait, Anemone! Don't bite your cousin like that!"

Anemone let out a low growl and bared her sharp teeth at the boy next to her. "But Nemo took my toy without asking!" she wailed when the culprit wouldn't pay her any attention. With unmatched vigour, she shook her head left and right, causing the mop of blue hair on her head to become a wild mane.

Nemo merely let out a little giggle and held the toy out to her. "I just wanted to show you a cool trick, Anemone!" he said happily and opened up the golden shell toy to reveal a glistening pearl. "Here, look!"

An awe-struck look appeared on Anemone's face, and she immediately ceased her crying.

"Wow—" Another child appeared by the cousins' side, a confident girl that wore a thick pair of black glasses. As she looked at the toy in fascination, she pushed her glasses up and let a sure smile appear on her lips. "That really is cool, but I know another trick! I can show you, if you want to!"

"Really? Ursula, show us!" Nemo cried out.

Anemone nodded along eagerly and held the toy out to the silver-haired girl. "Hurry up, Ursula!"

"I see what you mean with adorable now, Dire," the professor began and chuckled to himself. Yet, his moment of appreciation was short-lived when he turned to the headmaster to find him being mauled by the lion-girl Aria again. "But still, what are we supposed to do with all these children? Have you found a way to send them back home yet?"

"No, and I've tried really, really hard, believe me," Crowley began after the vicious predator had tired of him playing dead. He rose from the floor and dusted his tattered coat off, a giant smile on his lips. "But why send them back when I can just open a nursery with them? Just imagine, Divus! Night Raven Nursery? How does that sounds? I, for once, love it!"

"Have you gone entirely mad? We can barely handle the older students, as is, with all these overblots going on—" Crewel cried out in disbelief. "And you want to have small, helpless children nearby?"

"They can protect themselves, no?" Crowley rolled his eyes and pointed to a group of children by his coffee table. "Tell him, Rose!" The headmaster beckoned the girl over, and she at once appeared by his side.

The red-haired girl grabbed the alchemy professor by his hand and led him over to the coffee table, which was full with steaming tea-cups and cookies. She let out a little giggle before she took her seat again. "Grandpa Divvy! You're finally here— Do you want to join our tea party?" The girl patted the empty seat next to her. "My daddy always throws tea parties, as well— with all of his friends! But oh well, mine are so much more fun than his! Who wants to follow all these strange rules about how to drink your tea? You can drink your tea however you want to at my parties! If you want to add salt instead of sugar, go for it!"

The boy with orange hair, seated next to her, let out a hum of agreement. "I love salty tea! Way better than sugary sweet..." he exclaimed while pushing strands of hair out of his face. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips, and he gave a peace-sign to the baffled professor.

"Don't mind Anthony and his strange tastes... He got it from his father," a girl at the table said and let out a little giggle. Without wasting any time, she had skilfully poured tea into an empty cup and now held it out to the professor. She urged him to take it when he wouldn't, otherwise. "Here, have some tea, mister! I would usually hand you some cake to go along with it, but Grandpa Crow said that he doesn't have any."

Finally, Crewel took the cup and dared a little sip. "And who might you be?" he asked when she handed him a cookie and some sugar cubes for his tea.

"I'm Madeleine! Mommy always says I'm as sweet as madeleines, hehe. And Daddy always says my eyes are the same colour as perfectly baked madeleines." Her eyes shone proudly as she took another sip from her tea. "You should come by our bakery someday, Grandpa Divvy! It's been a long while since you've visited us. There's tons of new cakes on our menu that Daddy wants you to try!"

"Grandpa Divvy?" he repeated the nickname in confusion. "How peculiar..."

The professor was ripped out of his thoughts when the sound of crying reached his ears. He turned his gaze to the sobbing boy who had sought refuge in the soothing arms of Madeleine. A motherly look flashed across her face as she cradled the weeping boy in her arms. "Oh my, Bernard... why are you crying?" she asked and stroked his soft hair.

"Eris is being mean to me again!" he yelled out and pointed to another red-haired girl at the table.

"Really?" Madeleine asked softly. "What did she say?"

"She told me that I would never become a magical enforcement officer like my father!"

Eris rolled her eyes at the accusation and threw her velvety hair over her shoulder. "I didn't say it like that, you idiot," she grumbled under her breath. "I only said that it's very hard to become one! So you need to work a lot and give it your all!"

Bernard's face hardened in determination, and he finally stopped crying. "Well, I will work hard!"

A look of relief flashed across Madeleine's face, and she removed her arms from around the young boy with bright blue eyes. "See? Now you two troublemakers play nicely with each other," she cooed and nudged him towards Eris again, who welcomed him with a playful punch to his shoulder. The sight caused Madeleine to shake her head in amusement. "Oh my, even worse than my own siblings..."

Now that the children were busy playing tea party again, Crewel was allowed to return to the only other adult in the room. "Hm... Dire?" he called out when he found his colleague to be busy handling a large group of children.

Crowley was being climbed on by an endless amount of children. They were giggling and laughing as they were put to the floor again, only to resume their climbing fun. "Yes? Pardon me, I was busy dealing with all these Al-Asim children... There's a bunch of them! They are never-ending!" Crowley let out a little wail when one of the younger siblings began fiddling with his mask. "At least little Zahra is there to calm them down when things get a little bit too hectic."

All the children began rejoicing at once. "Zahra is our bestest friend!" they cried out together and rushed over to the older girl nearby.

She welcomed them with open arms and hugged them all in what seemed like an overwhelming group-hug. A genuinely happy smile decorated her face as she exclaimed, "Aww, I love you guys, too! Everyone of you: Malik, Fatima, Aamira, Ibrahim—"

"See? Never-ending," Crowley remarked, chuckling under his breath. Then, he turned away from the children and focused his entire attention on his colleague. "Now, what is it you needed from me, Divus?"

"Have you noticed the way all of these children address us as their grandfathers? Isn't that peculiar?"

"Well, there is a simple explanation for that—"

"Grandpa Divvy? H-Have you seen my mommy? I... I really miss her!" a little girl with flaming blue hair interjected. Tears stung in the corners of her eyes as she extended her arms out to him, wishing to he picked up. The professor reluctantly did so and cradled her in his arms when she began sniffing. "She wanted to read me some bed time stories— my favourite, even! Do you know the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice? Can you read it to me?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know where your mother could be," Crewel muttered and tilted his head at her. "But now, on closer look... You really do look like (Y/n)."

At that, Crowley broke out into a loud bout of laughter. "Haven't you noticed yet, Divus? All of them look like (Y/n)!" By then, he was wiping the tears from his eyes. "And each of them also shares traits with some other students here at Night Raven College. Do you see that tall boy over there? I swear I've seen someone with blond hair and purple tips around campus before..."

The boy he spoke of stood next to a much smaller girl. A little pout graced her lips as she handed him a hair tie and pointed to her lavender-shade locks. "Konrad... Can you braid my hair, please? The braids opened up when I helped my daddy on the farm earlier..." she muttered and clasped her hands together adorably.

"Of course, Daisy." The blond boy smiled softly and urged her to turn around. With the utmost of care, he ran his fingers through her messy hair and unwinded even the most stubborn knots. "Would you like a French braid, or a fishtail braid... or perhaps we could try out a pull-through braid?"

"Oh— I'd like a French braid! My mommy isn't all that good at braiding, sadly. But she always tries her best!" An enthusiastic grin graced her lips as Konrad went to work with skilful and nimble fingers. After a while, an adorable snort escaped her lips, and she added, "But you should see my daddy try to braid my hair... He is always so impatient and gives up within a minute."

Konrad and Daisy broke out into a fit of giggles.

"Well, I love braiding hair! I wish I could braid my dad's hair, but he's always so busy with his job..." Konrad muttered under his breath and exhaled softly. "At least Mom always allows me to braid her hair, even if hers isn't as glossy and smooth as Dad's—"

The two were interrupted by a boy having snuck up on them and yelling, "Boo!" A grin appeared on his lips when the two children began screaming. The fear on their lips soon transformed into utter frustration, especially once they realised that the half-done braid had opened up again. The mischievous boy merely shot them a large grin, his sharp front teeth sticking out. He also possessed pointy ears and shaggy black hair, where little tufts of hair stuck out on each side. "Did I scare you?"

The headmaster let out an exasperated sigh and scolded, "Ciaran, don't go scaring others like that! People might start crying or—"

He was interrupted by a slap, its echo bouncing around in the office. Surprised, he realised that sweet and adorable Daisy had marched up to Ciaran and had whacked him over the head angrily. "Oi, take that, you stupid fae!" she yelled and began growling like a feral dog.

A series of whimpers escaped Ciaran's trembling lips. "Ouch..." He held his head in pain and watched in shock as Daisy marched back to Konrad, smiling innocently as if nothing had happened. Konrad patted her on the shoulder before beginning to braid her hair anew.

"—or they might take revenge... and then you'll start crying..." Crowley finished and shook his head in disbelief.

At once, a gentle human girl appeared by the side of the wounded fae child. She tucked her silver-coloured hair behind her ears before she soothingly whispered, "Hey, don't cry... Where does it hurt?" Her voice was as soft as expected, probably even able to lull the wildest of beasts to sleep.

Ciaran let out a series of sniffles. "She hit me here, Chimere..." He pointed to the red mark on his forehead.

Chimere smiled gently and took his hand into hers. "You don't need to cry... Adam and I are here for you," she cooed, and at her command, a green-haired boy with slightly pointed ears appeared by her side.

A confident grin appeared on Adam's face as he yelled out, "Yes! Don't cry!" The volume of his voice was so loud that he managed to outyell every other child in the office. He gave Ciaran's hand an empathetic squeeze. "It will go away!"

"Now my ears hurt..." Ciaran complained, yet smiled at his two friends.

Crewel, who had been in deep thought until now, let out a drawn-out sigh after having analysed the faces of the last three children. "You're right, Dire... They all look like (Y/n)..." he admitted woefully and cast his gaze at the ground. "You say that you destroyed the space-time continuum, right? Could that mean that these are various timelines where (Y/n)—"

"—married a different student here at Night Raven College and had children? Yes, absolutely! That's the only logical explanation," Crowley finished while picking up a tired Aria into his lap.

"Ah... I hate it here..." Crewel huffed in disappointment. "To think that my adopted darling child would marry one of these dirty street dogs..."

Crowley, however, waved him off and began laughing happily instead. "Hey, don't be so pessimistic, Divus! I love it here..." A blissful sigh escaped his lips when Aria had finally fallen asleep in his lap, softly breathing and cuddling up against his destroyed jacket. "Lots of grandchildren for me, (Y/n)'s other adoptive dad. And who else would be better at playing babysitter than me? Oh, this is simply paradise..."

"Excuse me?" it came from outside the office. "Headmaster Crowley, are you in there?"

Crowley froze in fear. "O-Oh— don't come in, please. I'm very busy right now!" he cried out nervously.

"It's me, (Y/n). It's an emergency! Grim climbed onto a tree and doesn't know how to get dowm now!" In your desperation, you had pushed the door open and marched inside, initially not even noticing the many children. You rushed over to the headmaster and clasped your hands together. "Please, he's been crying for the last hour already... and nothing we've tried so far works—" It was only when a child curiously tugged at your blazer that you realised how the room was filled to the brim with children. By then, they were all silently staring at you in awe.

"Uh... You must be wondering why there are so many children here..." Crowley trailed off and shot you a sheepish smile.

"Yes, indeed." You furrowed your eyebrows when all the children began flocking to your side. "Where did these guys come from?"

Crewel rubbed his temples in exhaustion. "Well, it's a long story—"

He was interrupted by a sudden return of the screaming and wailing from earlier, now tenfold worse. In a united chorus, all the children yelled out, "Mommy! Mommy!" Small and chubby hands were grabbing you wherever they could, even toppling you over and sending you falling to the floor.

"I missed you, Mommy!" someone screamed from your left.

From your right, someone yelled, "Mommy, can we finally go home now?"

The masses around you blurred into one big mess. "Help!" you cried out as you were hugged and squeezed by more children than you could count.

"Oh no," Crewel muttered, furrowing his eyebrows. "We have to help (Y/n), Dire!"

However, Crowley merely shook his head woefully. "I don't think we can, Divus. It would be impossible to tear a child from their mother— even more so when its dozens of little brats." The worried frown on his face soon turned into a enormous smile, and another heavenly sigh escaped his lips. By then, his eyes were basically the shape of hearts as he stared at the children in delight. "Well, what a grand opportunity to have met all of my lovely grandchildren! I should destroy the time-space continuum more often."

Crewel rolled his eyes. "Please don't..."

The screaming and yelling soon became unanimous — and you could somehow discern them yelling, "Mommy, I love you!"