#vil schoenheit thirst
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Imagining...
Imagining how Vil would eat you out...
The tip of his tongue traces over your genitals while you cover your mouth. Shit, this feels so good..! Tears well up in your eyes. You gasp when he inserts two digits inside your hole and move them at a certain pace.
“What is the matter, potato?” He asks you, “You seem so aroused...”
His fingers curl inside you, making a squelching sound. You moan.
“Fuck, Vil... Y-you’re so... sooo...” You pant. You can’t find the right words for it.
“I am so what?” He smirks as he adds another finger in your hole.
This feels too good inside... You think to yourself.
You want him so badly and he is making you feel good. But you do start to feel impatient. You want him inside now.
As if your body is moving on its own, you close your eyes and grind your hips at his hands. He smirks again.
“My my~” He coos at you, “Since when you were this impatient?”
“...I want you... Vil...” You reply. “Want your cock... so badly now..!”
“Patience, it is all I ask.” He says, adding a fourth finger.
You feel a knot tighten around your stomach as your moans slip out of your mouth. You grip his sheets. He rubs the tip of your genitalia and you squirm in response.
“Mm.. Vil..!”
Your head starts pounding as you feel the slick sounds get louder. He thrusts his fingers on a particular spot, making the knot inside you tighten more. He kisses your thighs and gives you a seductive glance, and your breath hitches.
“Vil..! Vil..~!!” You call out his name, “I... I’m gonna... come... so... mmn~!.. S-so badly..!”
“Then do so.” He kisses your stomach, “Go ahead, potato~”
He starts to hit that spot more and more, making you tremble in pleasure. And like a balloon bursting, the knot snaps and you end up cumming on his face, his fingers and his sheets.
...
You pant.
When you open your eyes again, you catch a partly blonde hair. His head rests on your thigh.
“...Mm?”
You look at the blonde.
“Vil... I...”
You notice him staring at you with his makeup a little smudged. You try to sit up to apologize,
“I-I’m sorry--”
But he puts a finger on your mouth.
“Shhh... Do not even try to apologize... I get it, it was your first time.”
Then he sits down beside you, his cock peeking out on his underwear.
“I had tasted you earlier, right? Then it is time you returned the favor to me~”
You move to his cock and kiss the base of it. He looks at you to see what you are doing.
Suddenly, you sink your head to his cock and try to take as much of him as you can. His breath hitches and he puts a hand over your head.
“K-keep going... (Name)...” He mutters, and you do.
You diligently suck him off, taking him all the way to the base and back. You look at him with lust clouded eyes as you continue your work. He closes his eyes, his cheeks bright red, and he covers his mouth with his free hand while panting. You gently massage his balls too, which makes him throw his head back, and he starts to thrust his cock into your mouth. You moan in surprise.
“Mmn! Mm..! Mmmh!♡” His thrust grow harsher and his breath gets faster. Your head starts spinning as you nearly choke on his cock. Your moans don’t help him either with how much they are turning him on. You hollow your cheeks as to suck him off better while touching yourself. Tears well up in your eyes again.
And with one final thrust, he cums in your throat.
His cum tastes nice to you. You try to swallow as much of his cum as you can. When he collects himself, he lets go of your hair and mutters an apology.
“Damn... Did I make you feel that good, Vil?” You smirk.
“...Mhm...” He replies.
You sit up and whisper in his ear,
“I may want to feel you inside too~♡”
And you climb on his lap and line his cock up to your hole.
...
(The rest of this here is left for your imagination. 😉 😉 😉)
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WHAT
[Other May 2024 JP server news!]
MY EXACT THOUGHTS 😭 After 4 long years… TWST has finally given us the elusive bare Rook arms and his Savanaclaw era design???????
Look at how well-defined his arms are, the Magical Archives was NOT lying about his secretly buff physique… The curly hair??? Freckles???? Ripped T-shirt sleeves???? Even the brows are noticeably different… THE GASP I GASPED WHEN I LAID EYES ON THIS DUDE OTL It’s suuuuch a drastic change???? Vil described Rook’s Savanaclaw days so… well. A little TOO well… (I laughed a little upon realizing Rook always wore some iteration of a hat; in this context, it feels more cowboy-ish.)
ALSO I THOUGHT BRO WAS CARESSING VIL’S DORM UNIFORM WHEN I FIRST SAW THIS CARD (then I looked closer and realized it seems to be Rook’s bed). The floor pattern does not look like Rook’s room though…? Did he just. Yoink some Pomefiore fabric and hide out in a rando’s room to admire it??? THAT’S AN EVEN SCARIER THOUGHT…
I feel like this is a fever dream that I can’t wake up from 🤡 This right here, officer… This is what my sleep paralysis demon looks like… He T-poses in the corner of my bedroom and watches me sleep while whispering “omelette du fromage” 💀
I didn’t think we’d be dream-hopping to every individual student’s dream to pull them out of it because that feels like such a time sink (and book 7 is already so long), but… why the sudden limited Rook banner drop to go with a book 7 update???? Are we actually going to be waking everyone up one by one…? Well then that also opens up the possibility of a book 8 since there’s no way TWST could cram all this dream hopping AND cleanly resolve all the other lingering questions (Grim’s origins, Ace’s UM, Crowley’s motives, why was Yuu brought to Twisted Wonderland, etc.)????
How fitting that it’s the enigmatic Rook Hunt to send us all spiraling and questioning everything JUST BY SHOWING UP IN NEW (old?) THREADS…
#twisted wonderland#twst#Rook Hunt#Vil Schoenheit#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#book 7 spoilers#Dire Crowley#Grim#Yuu#Ace Trappola#notes from the writing raven#question#Rook Hunt thirst
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MC just not knowing or caring who Vil is makes him mad
If they won't admire him like everyone else does, then he'll have to make them. Doesnt realise he's the obsessed one
EVERYONE PRAISES HIM BUT YOU? YOU MAKE HIS BLOOD BOIL WHEN YOU SIMPLY ROLL YOUR EYES OR TURN YOUR HEAD AWAY
WHAT COULD HE DO TO MAKE YOU KNEEL TO HIM? TO MAKE YOU SING OUT WORDS OF AFFECTION TO HIM AND HIM ONLY?
HE WON'T TAKE YOUR VILENESS EASILY, HE'LL MAKE YOU BEND AND SNAP TO HIS WILL DARLIN
#twisted talks from hana#answered#twisted thirsts from darlings#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#vil schoenheit headcanons#twst vil#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit#yandere vil x reader
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YALL ARE NOT READY FOR THIS TWST HES SHES THEYS AND GAYS COME GET YOUR FOOD
#twst#twisted wonderland#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#malleus draconia#leona kingscholar#twst idia#twst vil#twst malleus#twst leona#twst thirst#third year dorm leaders
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How do you feel about all the thirst traps? Being a celebrity must have it's quirk's
It truly is something… I do not particularly enjoy it, but it is what it is.
#i wasn’t sure if you were talking about thirst traps in general#or thirst traps about me.#people do enjoy taking things out of context…#either way I do not particularly enjoy them#vil schoenheit#vil replies#voidless
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When You Deny Them
Third Years Part I: Vil, Leona
Warnings: None, not sfw, gn!reader, fluff
A/N: I'll do more of these for the other third years, hopefully.
Vil Schoenheit
With Vil, sex usually happens organically and by mutual invitation. A cuddling session will turn frisky, a scheduled encounter you both have been anticipating all day, (you and Vil are so busy you have to plan sex 😢 but it can still be sexy!)
Otherwise Vil goes off your cues. Touch his thigh and give him sultry look and he’s prepared to put you back in your place for "groping him so brazenly." Crawl into your shared bed and straddle him, or whisper in his ear how much you missed him. After some teasing, Vil will put aside most things to indulge you.
However he’s not used to you not giving him the green light. And Vil prefers you initiate because he likes to feel wanted, it's the ultimately a little ego boost for him. So what does he do when he’s horny but you’re not matching his energy or giving him the signal?
He doesn’t actively seduce you generally. The only times Vil initiates are on special occasions, your birthday, anniversary, etc, or when he’s trying to interrupt your plans so you stay in instead of going out without him.
However, if you keep turning down his advances he'll preen just like a peacock would, metaphorically spreading his tail feathers and flashing them at you.
Vil will put in a little more effort to get your attention. He'll lounge around in silk pajama with the shirt unbuttoned and recline in seductive poses.
He’ll even sneak up on you shirtless, lightly perspiring while wearing some running leggings that show off his toned ass and bulge and whisper in your ear that he's about to take a shower and how boring it would be without you.
If you wave him off he might spill something on you so you have to join him
If those attempts don't work, he'll up the ante. Vil will plan a romantic evening at home, hiring a private chef and serving a meal exclusively of known aphrodisiac foods and red wine. He'll turn on music the two of you can slow dance to on you patio over looking your beautifully maintained garden. Then he presents you with a new piece of jewelry or fancy watch. Hoping that is overtures will entice you. After all what a good partner he is! Spoiling you so.
And if that doesn't work...Vil’s not above playing the jealousy card to rile you.
If he's being subtle he'll post a thirst trap on magicam that will get a lot of attention, if he really wants to make you jealous he'll make sure you see other people fawning over him when you go to events. He hopes you'll get so worked up that you just drag him in to the bathroom and ride him. Pretty please, he won't beg. yet
Vil would never admit it, but he kind of loves then you play hard to get, telling him your busy and denying him, it only makes him all the more eager to finally get you back in his bed, or shower, wherever really since he can be so competitive, but... after a certain time the fun wears off and he has to get more forceful.
He does this by nudging you awake if you fell asleep after completing your nightly skincare routine and telling you that he has something that can ensure you have good dreams (his dick), but if you rebuff him yet again he’ll just shoot straight.
"Is something wrong my love? Have I not made my intentions clear enough? I want you...very badly."
If you tell him you're tired or over worked and thusly not in the mood, he pulls one last resort.
He schedules a vacation where he can have you all to himself.
Vil gets it you are both busy with your respective lives but you both have needs that neither of you are fulfilling with your current routine. If you work he’ll call your boss and tell them he’s taking you on vacation for a month and that if they have a problem with it that he can get you a better job with the snap of his fingers.
He picks an extremely romantic vacation in a gorgeous locale but there's really little point, Vil just wants to keep you in the hotel room.
"Isn't this wonderful, I have you all to myself little one." He'll coo while he curls his arms around you as you look out of a balcony over crystal waters. "Zero distractions. How about you make it up to me? You can start on your knees."
Leona Kingscholar
Sex with Leona is frequent and if it doesn't start as a natural part of how much time you spend napping and cuddling in bed, Leona initiates by telling you exactly what he wants you to do. Sometimes he's sweet and sultry about it, "pretty little herbivore, why don't you go ahead and get yourself off on my dick, yeah?" Other times he's straightforward. "Oi herbivore, get over here and ride me." Depends on his mood.
Regardless, Leona is a man with expectations about the sex he is "owed" in a relationship and if he’s not getting it he’ll be vocal about it. He's horny damn it! You're supposed to take care of that.
If you scold him for being grumpy towards you he’ll probably respond with something snarky like "sorry, I haven’t had my dick sucked in a week" And yes a week is all it takes to have leona protesting about sexual neglect and alienation of affection.
When it comes to you, Leona is absolutely shameless. He goes on the prowl, for you. Stalks you in your (shared) home during the day. He'll tug your undergarments down and grope at you or fondle you over your clothes. He will knock it off if you tell him to in a really firm tone that's not what you want right now, but then he’ll start demanding reasons why the two of you can’t drop everything and fuck in this hallway. The servants would just look the other way so there's really no harm in it, right? wrong
If he’s really desperate he’ll try to service you to entice you. A rare occurrence. You’ll wake up and he’ll be kissing the insides of you thighs and asking if you need him to do anything for you or complaining that he's hungry. Leona makes it very hard to turn him away, but if you have the strength to bat a pining Leona away from your spread thighs power to you.
In another bout of desperation for you, Leona will purposely arrange a situation where you catch him masturbating. On your bed, in the shower, hell even on a couch in a very high traffic area of your home. Shirt unbuttoned, cock out, looking completely unashamed as he asks, "You can help me with this can't you herbivore?"
He'll start walking in on you naked more than he already does to try and strike when you're vulnerable. And while normally Leona's a bit stingy with compliments, they suddenly become free flowing, if a not a little guilt tripping.
"So pretty, herbivore, and for what? Depriving me of this beautiful body. It's such a shame."
After a while Leona makes you a proposition. "If I beat you in chess, I get to do whatever I want with you." He won't take no for an answer (he's painfully stubborn) but the game really isn't fair considering how good Leona is at chess. When he inevitably wins he'll gloat and make sure you make if up to him. He won't tell you, but he really missed your routine intimacy.
"Finally, I can get what I need." Leona purrs as he pulls you into his chest, when you complain about his statement he adds, "Don't worry I'll take care of you too, but you have a lot to make up to me...now on the bed and spread 'em, be quick about it."
#twst wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#leona smut#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#vil schoenheit smut#leona kingscholar smut#vil schoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#twst scenarios#twst imagines#vil smut
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Vampire au
I decided to do it in the form of a dialogue because… there really isn't a reason, it seemed fun
Riddle Rosehearts
"I would never succumb to an act like this, it is my duty to protect you and I will resist this thirst… even if you give me your consent, I still don't want to hurt you, so follow the rules for once and return to the your dorm!”
Leona Kingsholar
"your smell is so magnificent, I'm sure your blood tastes even better, hey herbivore… would you fight if I bit you?"
Azul Ashengrotto
"…you are my precious pearl, even if we didn't have an agreement, I would still do everything not to hurt you and make this situation favorable for both of us…I don't want another human, just you accepted me and I accepted you I value it more than any of my contracts"
Jamil Viper
"Blood? Don't worry about it, I've already prepared myself in advance for this…if my dispensation runs out?…what are your favorite meals? If I fed on you, you'd be very weak, so I want you give me a little comfort since you offered to help me"
Vil Schoenheit
"potato, if you think I'm one of those inelegant animals that are thirsty for blood, you're wrong, I have control over my will and my contacts can easily find a blood bag for me…but I still appreciate your kindness …who knows, one day your blood will hypothesize me to the point where I couldn't resist, it's better not to stuff yourself with carbohydrates, they're bad for your health and ruin the whole flavor"
Idia Shroud
"…ah! I w-wasn't looking at y-your neck! I swear! I-I would never do something w-with someone a-amazing as you- I MEAN, you want to go for blood with me! that's it, go be like in an rpg…if you get scared you can hold my arm Meh heh heh"
Malleus Draconia
"you're the… most stunning and curious human I've ever met, I was thinking, we've known each other for a while, could I have the honor of tasting your blood?… no, I won't bite your neck heh , your wrist is the one I would bite…unless, you see us close enough for that"
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twst#twst idia#twst riddle#riddle rosehearts#twst leona#twisted wonderland leona#leona kingscholar#azul twisted wonderland#twst azul#azul ashengrotto#jamil#twst jamil#jamil viper#vil twst#vil twisted wonderland#vil#idia shroud#twisted wonderland idia#malleus draconia#twst malleus#twisted wonderland malleus#Au#Twisted wonderland au
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Three is the Magic Number
Oh great wheel of names, reveal to me the trios paired!
Characters: Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Idia, Ortho, Vil, Rook, Epel, Lilia, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Yuu, Grim
Cw// swearing, mentions of m*rder and death, implications of ab*se and Riddle’s past, implications of mental health issues, platonic bed sharing and cuddling
This is based off of my person experiences in choir. They paired us pretty randomly which lead to some…interesting situations. So I decided to do the set up I had on tour (two full sized beds, 3-4 people to a room) because I think it’s funny when other people have to go through that. I used wheel of names to sort them into threes, then whoever was left over would stay with Yuu and Grim
Group A: Idia Shroud, Cater Diamond, Sebek Zigvolt.
First thing that happens is Idia tries to get his own room. When he fails, he just groans and sucks it up. He barely sleeps anyway, so who cares. Second thing that happens is Sebek immediately goes into logistics. Who sleeps alone and who has to share? What is the shower routine going to look like? Where does everyone plan to keep their luggage? What time does everyone want to be woken up the next morning?
The answer to these questions from Cater and Idia are disappointing to Sebek. Idia says he’ll “sleep” on the floor (aka play games on his tablet until morning) and Cater says he simply doesn’t care. It ends up with Sebek sleeping alone while Cater and Idia sit on the other bed, showing each other memes and watching stupid watchmojo videos.
Eventually Sebek gets tired of the light pollution coming from five feet away and goes into a long rant about how rest is important for the body and spirit of a warrior and blah blah blah. Idia and Cater couldn’t care less, they just turn down their brightness and Sebek leaves them be. Late into the night when Cater and Idia get kinda tired, they talk about deep personal shit they normally wouldn’t, but proximity makes it hard to keep in. They end up sleeping in the same bed, and wake up spooning (Idia is the little spoon) at 6 am because Sebek is a madman.
Group B: Silver, Leona Kingscholar, and Vil Schoenheit
Being completely honest, none of these guys particularly care. There’s two beds, there’s two prissy bitches, and one dude who falls asleep anywhere and everywhere.
Silver ends up taking the desk chair in the corner, looking surprisingly comfy. Leona takes the bed closest to the door and Vil takes the one near the window and AC.
Leona ends up leaving his shit everywhere because he’s used to Ruggie being the one to pick it up. Unfortunately, Vil doesn’t play that shit and they end up getting into a fight over it. Silver wakes up sometime during this and watches them from his chair, snacking on some chips he packed.
Speaking of, Vil’s got several bags, two dedicated to clothes, one to shoes, and one to his skincare supplies and makeup. Silver packed two outfits, a collapsible staff, a baton, two daggers, a set of silverware, and a million and one snacks. Leona has no idea what’s in his bag because Ruggie packed it for him, but he knows there’s clothes and probably shoes somewhere in his duffel bag.
Eventually everyone settles back down and once Vil is done taking 2 hours in the bathroom, everyone ends up going to bed pretty easily. Vil takes beauty sleep seriously and the other two just nap wherever
Group C: Jack Howl, Kalim Al Asim, and Ace Trappola
The magic wheel of names seemed to have a thirst for chaos, because putting these three in a room is asking for it. When they first enter the room, Ace ran at the nearest bed and yelled “dibs!” While Kalim and Jack struggled to get all the luggage through the door.
Kalim, ray of sunshine he is, immediately said okay to sharing with Jack. Jack, however, had a different thing in mind, tugging Kalim over to where Ace laid face down on the bed and promptly squishing him further into it.
Ace struggled from under them and eventually managed to roll out just as Kalim’s hands managed to find a pillow, promptly smacking Ace with it. This obviously resulted in a pillow fight.
Unfortunately, Jack Howl is not as responsible as everyone seems to think, because with Ace’s insistence and Kalim’s puppy eyes, he relents to sneaking out of the room to fuck around. The three managed to steal from a vending machine, run up and down all the halls, and go swimming in the pool. They were pretty surprised to run into Floyd, who was doing the same, but he was surprisingly chill and ended up joining their little group at Kalim’s invitation.
When they finally make it back to their dorm room, Floyd ends up staying with them. Kalim and Ace share one bed while Floyd and Jack share another. Floyd is a cuddler and so is Kalim, which means there’s no escape. They all end up late for their call time and get yelled at.
Group D: Riddle Rosehearts, Ruggie Bucchi, and Malleus Draconia
Every single person in this group is nervous. Riddle is nervous because Ruggie is known for robbing people and Malleus is naturally kinda intimidating, Ruggie is nervous because holy fuck two housewardens in one room and they’re the scary ones, and Malleus is nervous because he doesn’t want to scare his little friends.
Riddle is the one to act most at ease, despite being nervous. He goes about his routine of checking his notes, taking a shower, readying his clothes for the next day, and drinking a cup of calming tea before bed like usual. Ruggie pretends everything is alright as he makes small talk with Malleus, slowly loosening up when he realizes that the faerie prince isn’t gonna eat him. Malleus mostly watches everything play out with interest, playing with his tamagotchi and idly amusing Ruggie.
Eventually Ruggie gets bored and turns on the TV to a kids channel, watching the cartoon playing with mild interest. He also makes himself some microwave popcorn, and ends up offering Malleus some as well.
Riddle wants to be pissy about the TV being on, but he figures that keeping Malleus and Ruggie happy is probably more important. Eventually after getting pretty annoyed, he also watches the cartoon. He ends up completely enraptured since he never got to watch them as a kid, and it shows. Now, instead of watching the TV, Ruggie and Malleus are watching him.
When they eventually shut off the tv after some snarky banter between the lot of them, it’s surprisingly Malleus and Riddle that share. Malleus doesn’t sleep, but he does like to lounge, and Riddle sleeps like the dead due to ignoring his parents yelling as a kid, so it ends up being good for all of them. Riddle also sleeps in fetal position and will cling to anything nearby, so Malleus ends up with a very tiny red haired menace latched on his arm in a death grip all night. Neither one talk about it when he wakes up. (Ruggie enjoys the entire bed to himself and sprawls out across it, waking up turned sideways and head hanging off the edge in the morning)
Group E: Floyd Leech, Jamil Viper, and Azul Ashengrotto
Could the great seven not show some mercy to poor Jamil? Not only is he stuck with Floyd Leech and Azul Ashengrotto for three full nights, but there was an error on the hotels part, leading there to be one king sized bed instead of two full sized ones.
Floyd and Azul don’t really care, they’ve known each other forever and it’s not like they haven’t slept in the same space before. However, both Jamil and Azul are nervous messes for one reason in particular - Jamil hates Azul. And Azul…is a simp.
After the two stand around staring at each other for way too long, Floyd just goes, “I’ll sleep in the middle!” Then bellyflops on the bed. This does not make it better.
Azul instead just sighs, then disappears into the bathroom to change. Floyd and Jamil don’t bother with that, because basketball club and all. Once everyone ends up in their pajamas and teeth brushed and all that, Azul and Floyd climb into bed. Azul lays on his side, facing outward, while Floyd lays on his back staring expectantly at Jamil.
When Jamil finally gets in, he is immediately trapped by Floyd and forced to stay laying. Now, Floyd has his legs trapping Azul’s down while he grasps onto Jamil with his arms, pressing his face into Jamil’s shoulder.
Eventually two of them manage to find sleep, but Floyd gets bored and decides to go for a swim. He ends up staying with group C for the night.
Next morning, Azul and Jamil are snuggling. It seems that everyone at this school is fucking touchstarved. Azul has his head pressed into Jamil’s chest, legs intertwined and otherwise curled in on himself, and Jamil is cradling him with one arm thrown over his waist, the other under Azul’s head. When they wake up they end up springing away from each other. Azul stutters out apologies while Jamil insistently refuses to talk about it. Then they remember Floyd is supposed to be there and start freaking out. Don’t worry, they find him.
Group F: Jade Leech, Epel Felmier, and Lilia VanRouge.
Epel nearly pisses himself when he finds out who he’s rooming with. The old guy who can burn water and the henchman of the fish mafia seems like a recipe for disaster.
It turns out it’s actually not that bad, though. Jade is perfectly courteous, even if he’s a bit formal, and Lilia isn’t nearly as chaotic as Epel assumed he would be. He never asks about bed arrangements, and neither Lilia or Jade offer any information. Instead, Jade and Lilia sit on one bed while Epel sits on the other.
It’s Lilia who turns on the TV to a competitive cooking show, but it’s Jade who seems to take most interest. The two vice housewardens talk amongst themselves about the techniques and recipes of the contestants, place their bets about who will win what round and who’s going home. Epel sits silently and half assess the skincare routine Vil makes him do.
At the stroke of midnight, Lilia stretches dramatically and says, “I think it’s time for you two to get some sleep.” Before he reaches down and digs out his game. Jade says nothing, instead changing into his comically large pajamas before quietly saying “goodnight” and settling himself into the bed he was sitting on. Epel does the same, watching laying on his side to watch Lilia and Jade for a while before he actually fell asleep. Last thing he remembered was Lilia giving a sly grin and a chuckle before waving his magic pen at him, so he assumes Lilia did something.
Lilia stays up all night, like Malleus, and plays his game the whole time. He hears people running up and down the halls at around 3am, but just laughs to himself.
Jade sleeps on his side with a pillow on top of his head, and barely moves in his sleep. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing, which lead Lilia to check and make sure he was alive a few times. Epel, on the other hand, kicks, squirms, mumbles, and snores in his sleep. All of it fairly loudly. Jade is somewhat grumpy when he wakes up, but a latte and he’s in better shape, so he won’t have to murder his roommates today. Epel is very energized though, and practically bouncing around. Jade has to count every reason why he can’t hurt Epel in his head as he finishes breakfast, carefully keeping his face neutral but his eyes read “I’m going to stab you”
Group G: Deuce Spade, Rook Hunt, and Trey Clover
These three do not care. Like at all. Deuce has shared a bed with Ace, and Ace is an ass, so this is a cakewalk. Trey is just exhausted, and Rook is…Rook.
Rook is the one who ends up sleeping alone, due to the fact that neither Trey nor Deuce feel comfortable sleeping so close to someone who literally hunts other students, but other than that it’s chill. Trey and Rook talk about dumb science shit while Deuce does his best to keep up, even going as far as taking notes for later. They end up doing homework together for a while before watching an action-comedy movie before bed (Deuce and Rook wanted action, Trey didn’t want to be fucking bored)
Trey and Deuce don’t end up cuddling, per say, but they do end up touching. Their legs are close pressed together, Trey is somewhat sprawled, and Deuce is curled up facing away from Trey. Trey ends up with a hand pressing against Deuce’s back.
Deuce and Trey wake up slightly alarmed to do the fact that Rook is staring at him. Trey just sighs and turns over, which means that Deuce just feels kinda silly when he starts mumbling random panicked words.
Eventually they do all get up because it’s the call time, and Deuce has to very carefully persuade Rook to leave the bow and arrow behind for the day. Trey doesn’t speak until he’s had coffee, and ends up sitting near Jade in complete silence.
Group H: Ortho Shroud, Yuu, and Grim.
The one dude who’s a robot and can’t sleep in a bed is the one the prefect and Grim are left with. It’s not unpleasant - it means that each of them get their own bed, much to Grim’s joy, but it is a little odd.
Regardless, they have a great time. Ortho is always pleasant company, happy to chatter away about anything. Grim is always unpleasant company, because he’s a tiny, furry arsonist. Truly, the amount of fire in the room is a bit of a concern to the one human among them, but not enough to really care.
Grim and Ortho don’t bathe which means the bathroom is pretty much all Yuu’s. They come back to find Ortho and Grim also watching cartoons, sitting on one bed while your stuff lay untouched on the other one.
It’s roughly 11pm when you decide it’s time for the kids to sleep, and while Grim complains, Ortho doesn’t. Instead he just pulls out his charging cable and looks for the closes outlet.
Yuu gets up and goes to help him out, letting him sit in the desk chair as they plug in his charger. They carefully plug him in and make sure he’s comfy, then give him a (PLATONIC) kiss on the forehead before he enters rest mode. What a cute little robot kid.
Grim doesn’t wanna go to bed but when reminded that he has a whole one to himself, he finally settles down for rest.
Yuu goes to bed shortly after, mentally checking off everything on their list of things to do today and planning for the one of tomorrow.
When they wake up, Grim is snoozing on their chest, Ortho is carrying some prepackaged goods, and it’s exactly one half hour before call time.
“It’s important to eat something before a day full of activity.” Ortho says calmly, handing you the procured foods and leaning over to pet Grim, “We have one half hour before call time. May I go to my brother?”
Yuu nodded, “of course! Thanks, Ortho. I’ll come find you and Idia in twenty minutes, okay?”
“Okay! See you then!”
#twst mc#twst headcanons#twst yuu#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#ace trappola#deuce spade#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#kalim al asim#jamil viper#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#idia shroud#ortho shroud#twst grim#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#sebek zigvolt#fluff
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Lasting Spring
Pairings: Vil Schoenheit x (Orpheus Inspired) MC
Summary: Great expectations are placed on you, coming from a line of extraordinary poets, bards, and musicians. You fulfill these expectations with ease‒ the lightness of your voice illuminating any room with divine merriment through a swift dance of your fingers on your lyre. Your fame is equally matched with the curse swimming through your family’s blood‒ one which announces death and tragedy to your lovers, unless they are your true love‒ your soulmate. However there is no assurance that soulmates truly exist, only the madness that comes as an endless thirst for it. So you extinguish that thirst, settling for quick, messy flings‒ much to the dismay of your childhood friend, Vil Scoenheit. You lament your own tragedy through woeful verses, masked in the sweltering felicity of your music. Vil always trails that sorrow back to you, wishing to embrace you in his warmth to take it away, even for a moment. But the members of your family who had found love unobstructed by the gods were great lovers to heroes, kings, queens, and warriors‒ who was he, seen by most as a villain, to taint that possibility for you?
Notes: Orpheus inspired reader, with a friends to lovers dynamic with Vil, GN pronouns. Continuation of my myth-inspired series
CW: Mentions of death and suicide, references to depression
AO3 Link Here.
Masterlist
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The child of a legendary line of poets, bards, and musicians‒ you were always surrounded by lush sounds of harps, guitars, and voices which trilled of bittersweet love‒ ones which you echoed with your own youthful voice, plucking your golden lyre with what could only be described as divine sensibility. From age ten, you were rumored to have the ability to command flowers to a weeping sorrow, cap mountains with a fury of snow with a single verse. As such, it was given that your house was often host to lavish festivities, one which you enjoyed particularly because you liked seeing your mother up and out from your bed, shining in her freshly ironed dress and combed hair. It was rare to see her talking so brightly with the guests, but the way the room spun as adults pushed questions upon questions onto you made you scurry off from the ballroom, off to find somewhere to practice your melody.
Finding a window tipped towards the ocean, you sat on the ornate bench facing the high moon, plucking your lure and singing a ballad of two star crossed lovers, soulmates, the lyrics specified, and the events which bled into their untimely demise. Their love so endless, spun into the eternity of myth, deathless as the gods themselves. You wondered a bit if they had any relation to your family, bearing the same cursed blood as you to have their tragedy to be the only thing fossilized into eternity like that‒ your blood cursed with similar ill fate in love until they found their soulmate. Even with the sliver of possible paradise, the gods promised heartbreak and woe to be cried from your throat in form of a song. Despite the ease of which you could spill brilliant notes and verses from your heart, your throat was always raw from the cursed blood inside of you, as if it knew of the coming agony that lay before it.
"Do you really believe in that story?" A familiar face crept into the jewel-toned blue of the moonlight.
You greeted it brightly. "Vil!" Koinonos, companion‒ in anything, perhaps the only one you knew that fit that word.
"I thought I'd find you here." He sat next to you with a weary sigh. "And thank the gods I did. It's getting boring out there."
"I could imagine. Bla bla bla finance bla bla bla business. All they talk about these days. Even mother."
"Hm. My father also. Why can't they speak of more interesting, more beautiful things?" When he speaks, he never breaks the thread between his eyes and yours. Unlike the adults or their children who looked through you, tipping their head to the vastness of your family’s legends, Vil spoke clearly to you, the one that was here, now.
"If you want to hear something beautiful, lend me your ear for this lowly bard." You bowed dramatically with a hand in the air. Vil giggled. That was one of your favorite sounds, even competing with the rich colors of your golden lyre, gifted from the gods. When you returned it to him‒ Vil mirrors your sentiment in his head in a clandestine whisper, only known to you in glimpses in the glassy warmth of his eyes.
You spoke of soulmates and heartache once more. When you ended the song in a mixed tune, Vil lulls his head into his hands behind his neck, flashing the cool violet of his eyes at you.
"Do you believe in soulmates?"
"Hah." You hacked out a laughter from your chest‒ taught and stiff. "It would be a wonderful thing wouldn't it? If soulmates existed." Sure, those who found soulmates in your family married kings and queens, heroes and the finest warriors‒ but the rest? They slipped into madness from relentless heartbreak, twisting towards death as they repeated songs which only reflected their own agony. The gods were cruel this way‒ such ripe, sweet fruit bearing on a tree full of thorns swelling with poison. You had so much of your love to give to that sweet morsel‒ but it felt like such a distant thing, a fairy tale of sorts, that even at your young age you broke that fantasy for yourself before you tore yourself apart trying like you had witnessed your mother had. You decided before your sixth birthday, when you were gifted your golden lyre with the title euainētos, well praised, that you would be content picking at the flowers beneath that thorned tree, occupying yourself with smaller loves, smaller heartbreaks without so much as desiring that fruit ripening at the branches reaching the heavens.
"You don't think they do?" Vil almost pleaded. He could feel the desperation tightening of his throat.
You looked up at the portrait of your family above you, just you and your mother, absent of your late father you had known better of his fists rather than his face. Sometimes, you had doubted you were from your mother’s womb‒ bearing little resemblance to her her face‒ but you felt a seed taking root inside of you as you witnessed her heart break over and over again, ensuring that the cursed blood that was beginning to grow in your body was indeed one which beat under her thick skin as well. You plucked the strings on the lyre, weaving a melancholic tune.
Rare‒ Vil thought‒ you had always paired even your most woeful lyrics with the brightest notes‒ but anything that came from your fingers seemed to have a brilliant magnificence to it, divine, was the only word he could think of. The moonlight beads down the strings of your lyre like thin droplets dancing in the air, and it suspends you in a heavenly glow as you close your eyes, spinning a downwards tune. He flushes a bit at the thought.
"No. I don't think so." You answered simply, a narrow smile and eyes reached your face, turning to Vil.
"Oh."
A light laugh escaped your throat, head thrown back to lean against the window. "Don't be so glum Vil." The liveliness in your eyes dimmed, hands slowing to a feathery sound. "I was just speaking for myself. You're beautiful."
A hair had fallen onto his face, you swept it back with lithe fingers, resisting the temptation to trace the delicate features on his face. Tall, slender nose; rosey heart-shaped lips, lavender eyes speckled with sharp arrows of frosted blue. You tried to liken it to something in your head‒ twisting a poem in your mind‒ but no words you knew were big enough to describe his beauty. "I'm sure there's someone perfect out there for you who can recognize that." You curved your lips, deepening the smile in hopes of communicating your candor.
He turned his tinted face away from you, simply answering: "Play louder."
You did, a blithe color erupting from light beaming onto the strings of your lyre as they danced between your fingers‒ your throat the color of fresh blood as you trilled a song of woeful lovers. Vil didn't dare move his eyelids further up, afraid that if his lashes lifted, revealing your entire face to his gaze‒ his lips would betray him into a shameful quiver. Once he had, when he found a deep sorrow in your eyes, as infinite as the prickling stars in the sky, even with your hands which whirled with such an elated melody. He almost heaved with tears that time‒ he was only ten, after all. But you, the same age as him, seemed so much more wiser to tragedy, bearing it with a silky smile.
He hoped what you said about him was true‒ that he would find a soulmate‒ but when your statement before sounded just as certain. Anything that came from your mouth did to him‒ it rang as clear as glorious mountains forged by the gods, and as robust as rolling waves of the holy seas. Like your ancestors, he felt that you had the power to move nature‒ crumble mountains and make the sun know heartbreak. If you said soulmates didn't exist, he would simply believe that as fact. Still‒ a tightness swirled inside him, one with a feverish heat that wriggled inside his chest.
A few months later, a letter arrived at his home, informing him and his father of your mother's death. At the bottom of the letter rested a wobbly signature, your name, written in red ink. You were only ten‒ what ten year olds practiced their signature enough for it to be as elegant and poised as an adult's? He walked to your house, a bundle of lavender from the garden as an offering. You took it with cold hands when you opened the door to the empty house, letting in Vil with that soft smile.
"I have to…I have to sing at her funeral. And speak too." You stared distantly at the soundless waves, facing away from your family portrait. "What…what should I say?"
"You shouldn't have to say anything if you don't want to." He camped next to your body's warmth, wanting desperately to let it scorch him by embracing you. But he thought it would not be a comfort if he had.
"It's in her will." The adults already decided. "What do I even say that's not already known?" A bitter laugh pushes past your lips. "Sorry for all the trouble of gathering here‒ you all already knew this was going to happen? Yeah guys the prophecy is true‒ you can stop gossiping about it? You think they'll let me off the hook if I just don't stop crying?" You paused your chattering laughter. "I could if I wanted to, you know."
"You should cry whenever you want for as much as you want. We’re young, we should be afforded that right." He felt the stillness blistering in the air. After a moment, you answered with a weariness he wasn't used to seeing in your face. Still, it flowered gracefully in your eyes, soft as the cerulean moonglow and the velvety waves which were pulled by it.
"Will you help me write the speech?"
"Me?"
"Who else? I have no other friends. No one."
Vil's eyes flashed through faces which laughed and danced with you. "How about the others from your party?"
"They're not my friends." You leaned against him, rocking your head in the curve of his shoulder. "Not like you are." Koinonos, companion‒ in anything.
His breath stuttered for a moment, before he muffled it with a deep breath that raised his chest.
"Sorry‒ you don't‒"
"No." He tried again, softer. "No. I'll do it. Of course I will."
"Okay." If he were to guess that quiet voice came from your powerful throat‒ he would have guessed wrong by the crackling whisper of your reply. He also couldn't have guessed you were crying from the stillness of your form, but he knew the trick. The heat that rose to your face and the subtle shudder of your inhale was one he knew well. He said nothing, taking your sadness in without any need for words.
The funeral was planned by you, and a few of your mother's friends since you were not yet at the age where you could sign legal documents. They pat your still back in sympathy, especially when they find through the surrounding gossip that you were the one to find her feet dangling above a tilted pile of scores and books of hymns.
"I'm sorry."
"She deserved better."
"I'm sorry."
"She will never be forgotten."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
Who are you all sorry for? You thought, standing above her body blanketed in firewood. You wanted to crawl into her arms, but you felt that she would not let go if you had‒ you knew she was tiring of losing‒ dragging down blood of her own blood. The tightness of her decaying skin, the flowers which were delicately placed to hide her bruised, broken neck slammed your chest down to your small feet, which you heaved back up with steady breaths and rapid blinking, and the privacy of your face afforded when you bent down to place a coin on her cold tongue, your hair veiling the affliction in your eyes.
You played her a song on a harp as long and tall as your grief. At ten, you were seasoned with that agony through blood and bone‒ no tears rose to your flesh during the ritual‒ the song, the speech, the mourning. Most left after you had kindled the fire to her flaring tomb, leaving after squeezing you with empty hands and words. You sat facing away from the blazing fire, weaving your hands in the grass poking out from the seaside cliff. Vil sat himself beside you hours ago, watching the waves crash against the rocks, withering it.
"Do you truly think love exists?"
He sat, thinking what words would comfort you. "I do. When you sing of it in your songs, I believe it." He knew his truth would be as much as he could give.
"When I die, Vil." You looked straight at the swelling waves. "Will you be the one to sing at my funeral? Will you speak for me? Ignite my body?"
Funerary songs were reserved for the direct relatives of the deceased‒ mothers, daughters, sons, lovers, husbands, and wives. You had no father, no siblings, no spouse or children‒ and now, no mother. The thought of you dying before you could even make such connections choked him. "I'm not much of a singer." He says, throat wobbling.
"Your singing is divine, Vil." Your smile draws shakily today. "Sing a happy song for me. Let people dance, sing, laugh. Bring people together." He averted his gaze away from the tears that silently trekked down your face, he knew better than to watch you break. "This is way too depressing. It's better to think of happiness and beauty during times like this, isn't it?"
He wanted so badly to look at you when he answered, "Yes. It really is."
"Don't die before me, Vil. I want to hear your beautiful song." You embraced him to hide your face.
"I won't." He knew at the moment, why Orpheus had looked behind to gaze at his Eurydice's face when he couldn't hear her footsteps. He could barely hear your heartbeat, your crying, against the roaring waves hammering against the cliffside. But he felt stronger than your divine ancestors that day, cradling your face behind his own without turning, still as the rocks sinking and appearing from the cold waters.
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Despite your busy schedules, you stay in touch through piles of letters, small gifts with even smaller notes scribbled: “This made me think of you”, and sly backstage passes to each other's performances. He knows of the messy, brash flings you have with people, and the ease it brings you‒ after all, where else would you put all the love you have? To a curse that promised something unfathomable to you that would lead towards a path of self annihilation? He knew better than to question your actions in that, ready to silently sit beside you during days where it all weighed upon you. Moments you would lay stagnant in your bed reminded you of the slivers of memories you had of your mother‒ furthering the hope that Vil had not forgotten the promise he made on that burning cliffside.That cursed blood receded, and returned to you like the ceaseless oceans‒ a divine revenge coming closer and closer to crashing upon you as you felt the love inside you threatening to burst open at your seams. However, you waded that thick, flushing blood like water‒ carelessly throwing yourself against bodies that desired to devour such a passionate and powerful beast such as your legacy. The sexual pleasure helped a bit with the “muchness” of it all‒ despite the slight dismay of Vil, who saw the growing amount of alcohol and people you consumed during the nights of festivities at Night Raven College you often hosted. However, that would never stop him from checking on you the next day, bringing you cups of water along with a much needed lecture on alcohol consumption. It’s not like you didn’t stop being his friend after all‒ calming and assuring him during moments of his own doubts and rage whenever he was informed he was selected for yet another villain role. Those were rare times where you returned to the tranquility and delicacy of your childhoods‒ belting funny and melancholic tunes of gallant lovers and beautiful princes, wrapped in the blankets of Vil’s private quarters. There was a valor, a resistance in this happiness, the laughter from Vil’s lips making the moments even sweeter. It almost made you want to reach for that tantalizing fruit, but the poison rooted in your blood made you stop before you could even try.
But moments like that, were again, rare. Most of your time was filled with smuggling alcohol into the Pomefiore dorm, hosting elaborate parties and such that gained you the reputation as “party animal”, a raging appetite befitting one too. Some even joked that you bore a similarity to Dionysus, jolly god of wine‒ ironic, considering your ancient records say your ill fate was because your ancestor angered him, causing the curse to fall upon your family. Nonetheless, the title was one you took with pride, becoming host to hours filled with music, food, and drunken splendor.
"Let's begin the festivities!" You fluttered your hands prettily into the bustling air, the gold twisting around your wrists letting out a merry jingle as you let your fingers dance drunkenly towards a bass guitar.
Vil quirked a brow. "You know how to play? I didn't know."
"No." You tested the strings with lithe fingers, humming. "But I'll learn." A smirk fell onto your lips, immediately echoing onto Vil's own. Your plucking already sounded like the most masterful composition to him.
He kept that same questioning curve to his brows while letting out a huff of laugher. So cocky as always he thought‒ but he knew once you whirled around the floor, throwing your head back with an airy laugh to bask in the light of the gods‒ the instrument would be singing a vivid tune. When that dazzling sound came from you‒ you flashed a crescent smile at Vil‒ leaping into the crowd to create high spirits, doing so with a blinding radiance. The warmth of your songs beamed on Vil's face despite you twirling far away, leaving him to his own devices. He knew you were too bright, too limber to be held only by him‒ and it would burn when he tried. Though he would spring to that blistering feeling like flowers to the sun‒ he knew the gods made you so it was almost unbearable to keep all of your splendor to just himself. He watched with a smile from a distance, admiring how you lifted the crowd into a howling merriness that shook heated bodies against each other. He too joined that swelling warmth in the room, smashing his body against it, the taste of alcohol tipped onto his mouth as he poured the drink down his throat in one go. It made his head buzz blindly, letting him loosen his body to whirling movements.
When you cried his name, hollering a cheerful whoop at the quickness of which he drained the drink, he wondered if it was your music or the alcohol that was flushing his cheeks, bringing hot blood floundering to his prickling skin. He shifted his eyes to you once more, but you were no longer looking at him, flashing between bustling bodies, and he ignored the tugging feeling when he thought he saw you dancing next to a certain Kingscholar, throwing your head back into his chest, spilling your hair and drink onto his skin. Vil almost drinks himself to a stupor thinking about it, but reminds himself of the bloating he would have to deal with tomorrow morning if he did. So he turns from you, closing his eyes to the rhapsody of your music.
The night feels endless, and tomorrow feels far. But the tiredness of Vil’s muscles comes sharply, waking him from that distance. The weariness of his body sinks deep into his face as he finishes his skincare for the morning, and he decides a smoothie would give him the burst of energy he needed for the rest of the day. Padding over to the kitchen, he sees a familiar figure slumped over on the couch, a tangled mess in a flurry of blankets and clothes.
“(Name).”
You give a jumbled response, pressing your head deeper into the crevice of the couch.
“You’re going to regret it if you sleep here, you know. I don’t want to hear you complain about it later.”
Another groan, before you sat up, your head lolling to the back of the couch when you did. The openness of your crinkled shirt revealed violet bite marks and bruises blooming on your skin, before they were tucked under your head once more, a smirk reaching your lips when you caught Vil staring.
“What? Like what you see?” Vil hated when you teased like this‒ because he so badly wanted to answer‒ yes, yes, of course I do you idiot, I have for years. But he deflects your question per usual, turning his back to you to make his morning slurry of fruit and vegetables.
“Ugh. Cover yourself, you drunken bard. Actually‒ please change. You absolutely reek of alcohol.”
“Do I? Hardly noticed.”
“Tends to happen when you’re around it so often.”
“Oi! I’m not the only one who was drinking last night. I saw you down that entire cup of sangria last night.”
“Yes but I don’t come back with bruises on my neck do I?”
You see Vil pour out two drinks‒ you’ve never seen him not do this in your presence. Still, you thank him when he hands you the cup.
“Hey nothing wrong with a little roughness.” You spread a sly smile on your lips, lifting your eyebrows in a suggestive manner. ”Besides‒ easier to just let ‘em do whatever, you know?”
Vil squints his eyes in concern, before he takes a sip of his smoothie to suppress the energy bustling out of him, sparked out of the anger he feels in your statement. Still, he’s careful with his words before leaving the room. “Just…be careful.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
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You tried to sleep that day to prepare for the school week that followed, but you were woken several times in a cold sweat, haunted by images of your mother’s dangling feet in the air. You breathe heavily, heart weighed by the burden of your blood. Would you end the same? Seeing glimpses of your mother in your own moments of despondency had brought this question closer and closer as time passed, as the love inside of you was begging to be displaced anywhere but inside your thin, rupturing skin. Perhaps death would be an easier home than finding a residence for that love somewhere.
The gods were cruel even in times like this‒ bidding: sing, sing, turning your blood hot and writhing in your tired body. You moved your heavy limbs from the crushing weight rippling from your chest, clamoring in your hands the golden lyre. Euainētos‒ well praised. By whom but by the gods who dangled the ripening fruit far from your reach, or by the people who rush to your givings, but never return with any of your adoration? Sure your legacy may be well-praised, but what about you? You try not to think about it, or yourself‒ spinning instead a lament of two lovers, one set off to find their beloved in the land of the dead. Perhaps this score could hold your pain, just for a moment.
The softness of your voice comes as a willowy whisper, the blistering rawness of your throat tipped upwards towards the heavens to cool in the pin-pricked starlights and forlorn incandescence of the moon. The flowers near your window drooped at anguish laced in your low notes, you felt a deathly weight unravel from your lips, unfurling into the crisp night air, turning it to a frosty winter, negating all of the sun's warmth mirrored on the high moon. Even on this temperate autumn night, your music brings frost to the delicate petals of the flowers surrounding your window, seizing the fragrant water that slept in the flora in your chilled sorrow.
Vil hears this bellowing ballad from his window, and feels it in the growing coldness of the air. To him, your music always smelled of late autumn winding to winter‒ it's crisp, unforgiving wind warmed with the spices and colors of the mountains; the scent of decomposing leaves and thrashing dirt; its perfume of smoked wood turning to ashes. It also brought him the salt behind his eyes, the copper taste upon his lips when such a levitious melody trailed a fragrance of setting decay. It was almost masked with the aroma you wore‒ a summery scent‒ fresh, sun bathed dew on candied lavender‒ he could follow its deep scent to the sweet smile that always flowered on your face. But it never did mask the scent of endings, the smell of dwindling, evanescent light. He inhaled all of it knowing he could not escape it‒ the salt, the decaying earth, the sweet florals‒ knowing he could trail that scent blindly in the shackles of hell. But this time, that maytime veil barely masked the frosted musk of your tender, singing flesh‒ murmuring a low tune of lovers fated in destruction. It worried him.
"You awake?" He texts you.
The voice seeping through the cracks of his window stops for a moment, before a reply comes. "Yeah. How'd you know?"
"We literally live right next to each other."
"Oh."
.....
"Yeah. Forgot about that. Sorry if I woke you up from your beauty sleep~ Don't kill me please?? I'm too cute to be murdered"
Vil throws the satin covers from his body, shuffling his slippers on and heading to your door. He barely knocks once before you're opening it, blanket tangled over your body. Your scent washes over him like the mild sun, but is quickly chilled by a wintery aroma that freezes his breath tightly in his lungs. The bags that weighed under your eyes accentuated the hollowness in them, if not then by the your smile that didn't bother to reach past your lips.
"Come on. We're doing face masks as long as you're interrupting my beauty sleep. Those eye bags are going to take care of themselves."
"A way with words, this one." You watch Vil march over to your vanity, pulling out a bottle that was part of a gift he had given you during your many exchanges. "And I thought I was the only bard." You squint your eyes a bit to make the curve on your lips more believable but Vil returns the look with a slather of a cold substance onto your skin.
"Ack! Your hands are freezing you heartless bi‒!" He smacks another glob on your cheek.
"I wonder whose fault that is, hm?"
You look at him perplexed, before he pointed his gaze towards the roses that had begun to wilt at your window.
"Oh did I…?" They weren't like that before. Those blooming buds had been alive just now‒ you swore it. But now, turned gray and cold, they began to behead from their stems onto your floor. "I did it again, didn't I."
"Can you undo it?" Vil asks softly, now spreading the substance onto his own skin.
"I mean I could. Theoretically, yes. But right now I just‒" A sudden pain lurched inside your chest, clutching your throat in a quiver. You quelled it with a thick breath in, swallowing it down the constriction of your throat. "- I‒I just can't‒ I‒"
His gaze softens, and he places a clean hand on top of your own, warming it from the cold metal instrument that sat below your palm. "It's fine. You don't have to. It's okay."
"Okay." Your voice comes small and frail like a newborn bird. It swoops to Vil’s heart, soaring it‒ but he brings it down to earthly terrain, macerating the hunger of his hands, begging to take all of your pain away‒ to squeeze it out with his love. But what right did he have, tainting your legacy, your potential like that? You were meant to intertwine with legends and the blood of royalty, heroes, mighty warriors‒ he felt that you would be deathless in your art as the gods, divine power swelling in your carnal body reaching the eternity you deserved. Then maybe he could break the promise he made by the cliffside, never having to face your own flaming pyre.
But he is reminded of your humanity when you shake silently like a wind whipped oak‒ that trick of yours he knew never to voice‒ for a moment, decorticating the towering facade hardened by the curse, the legacies, the thickness of your blood, withering away until it revealed your small form. He felt small too, returning to similar moments like this in childhood where you cried a whisper louder. But like Eurydice's final footsteps, your woeful imprint on this earth were beginning to sound more and more distant, and it grew the fear in Vil that you would disappear somewhere far off from him. Still, the stubbornness of his doubts and self image tethered to his insides like a quick, sinking poison, suspending him in a moment of paradise and hell. He imagined this was the reality you lived as well.
In a moment of weakness, he determined, he indulges in his grasping notions, hugging a single hand to your bare shoulder, feeling the smoothness of your skin as he rubs it. You sink into this warmth, moving your head to his lap and unwinding into his heat. His satin robes smelled of lavender and rich vanilla, sweet as his plush palms lulling you to sleep.
You hope he stays the night, caging you in this warmth until you wake again, but he never does.
——————————————————
It's the weekend again, which means yet another celebration hosted at the Pomefiore halls. You begin the preparations at late noon, having slept off the exhaustion of the week's low mood until the last possible minute. It wasn't much effort, it's not like people your age were particularly picky as long as hard liquor and junky snacks were involved. You took a quick swig of the nearly empty bottle, enjoying the dizzy fever it brought to your head.
"Drinking already? Honestly (Name)..." Vil sighs as passes by the hall, returning from his workout.
Feeling color rise to your cheeks as your eyes glaze over his exposed body, you decide it was a perfect opportunity to chalk up to your growing alcohol intake. "Uhh yup. You know me." You smile tightly, as he enters the ballroom, emptying the water bottle in his hand in huge gulps, ripping the mound on his throat in a rhythmic wave. The way his hair curls messily at his neck, sweat beading down his chest makes your head spin some metaphor likening his stature to mighty marble masses‒ but the sound of your heart thundering away at your ears makes you deaf to your own song.
"What? Like what you see?" He mirrors your exact words from the other day, a mischievous glint in his eye. As much as you detested the teasing, you loved the look of his face. Not Vil Schoenheit, the actor; or Vil Schoenheit, loved by all‒ just, plainly, Vil. Your Vil‒ Koinonos, companion‒ in anything, your heart blared. But you killed that voice as soon as it rose, busying your head with the ecstacy of boozy daze with another swig of another bottle. This would be your companion for the night.
"Suck my‒" You began, but was met with a solid chest right as you swiveled on your feet to exit the room, the intoxication reaching your movements when you knocked back onto the floor on your behind.
"Elegant." Vil responds with a raised brow.
"Sorry!"
You recognized the face but not the name, prompting you to scramble through your memories for one. "Hey Uuh…" Blank. Nope. Nothing. "Sorry‒ what was your name again?"
"Oh! Yuri, remember? We uh‒ you don't remember last week?"
It clicked in your brain. Shit, why was he here? Usually your flings knew to avoid pursuing or meeting you again because of the whole curse situation. But situations like this happened now and again, you were just hoping it was resultant from a lack of knowledge of your bloodline than some extravagant declaration of "love". You answer, with a poised smile on your lips. "Yeah, I do, sorry my memory gets foggy sometimes. Can I help you with something?"
"I…" His eyes sway from yours to Vil's. "I was just‒ here!"
To only your slight surprise, an envelope is shoved in your face. His hands shake a bit from his nerves, ears tinted dark while his face hides in the deep bow he positions his body in to hand you the paper. Inhaling a mulled breath, you wrap your hands softly around his wrist, tugging it to raise his face. He doesn't meet your eyes‒ you don't blame him.
"Hey." You begin, setting the bottle of alcohol on the table. "Let's talk in the hall, okay?"
He nods, retracting his hand from your back to his chest. Vil shoots a concerned look at your now completely sobered expression, but you just smile and wave, shutting the door quietly behind you.
"I appreciate it. I really do. But you know about my bloodline‒"
"I do! I'm ready to make that commitment! I think‒ know I know this is love! Don't you feel it too? Isn't that why‒"
"Do you honestly believe true love exists? We're strangers. We forever will be." You notice his eyes that look distantly through yours.
"When you sing of it, I do."
You blink. Somehow, those same words from Vil sounded less believable when this man‒ declaring his unflinching commitment‒ utters them. There’s a certainty that is embedded inside you that you’re not used to, that says you’d believe Vil’s words hell and back over any other person in this world‒ even over any other arduous confessions of love no matter how much you wanted to seize an opportunity, a chance, any glimpse of serendipity in love. But you placate that hunger, bury it deep in your darkened stomach, killing it kindly with the fragrant flowers that seat beneath that tangling tree of ripening fruit. There’s a whiff of lavender which trickles from above, but you pull yourself from it to focus on the moment.
"It doesn't exist. Neither for you or I, or anyone. Do you want to know what happened to my ancestors and their lovers?"
He shakes his head. "I don't care about any of that, I‒" You take a hand to his pulse, measuring it’s speed with the stilled rhythm of your own.
"Some die horrifically, ripped apart by furies. Some go mad and take their own lives because they can't stand the thought of potentially suffering a death like that. Others have been killed, poisoned, struck and tortured by the gods. You’ll become their little plaything, like me." Relief floods you as his pulse begins to quicken, stuttering at your words. But, these words come as a generosity. "Are you ready for something like that? A fate worse than death? For something as flimsy as 'true love'?" His eyebrows furrow, he squeezes the envelope between his clammy fingers.
You decide to make this easier for him, taking the words from his heart and whirling them on your tongue. You've heard it plenty before from your days of romantic pursuit, despite the sacred promises to yourself when you were younger. But you're glad it gives you the script for times like this. The words roll off like practiced notes on your lyre.
"You're fun, you're beautiful, I like you and all…" A smile crept on your lips, like an infinite curse, widespread and flowering on your face. 'I know, I know' it says, the muchness of it all, I know. What else could you do but smile in the face of such heavenly concocted absurdity? "But we both know how this ends, right? Put your love somewhere else. Somewhere precious, yeah?”
He nods silently, and you afford him the dignity to leave as such. Vil’s eyes flicker to your expression, then back to his phone when you slip back into the ballroom, which fills with silence. You take another swig of the bottle to beat the growing heaviness pounding a crater inside your chest.
“Carter called, says he’s bringing his friends over soon. With the amount of people that were on the call you’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“Correction‒ they will have a lot of work to do. They’re going to help me.” You drop your back onto the couch, sinking into it and Vil’s shoulder. He flashes you an annoyed look, but he doesn’t budge.
“In that case I’m going to get changed. Don’t want to have a drunken bard ordering me around.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know when my servants finish up with preparations~” You reach to your lyre and strum the strings carelessly. You imagine the giggle that would emit from Vil’s throat, but you’re met with a stiff laugh, his usual vibrancy between you two smothered by the concern of his eyes. You play a merry tune to soothe this expression, relieved when his posture seems to relax a bit. This silent language is thrown between you at all times, and it forges a weltering tension in your chest, something you try to pacify with the bright song erupting from your lyre. But the music seems to dull when Vil leaves, relaxing your smile into an empty gaze to the skies in his absence.
——————————————————
Preparations are done just in time (much to the resistance of Carter and his friends) before people begin flooding into the dorm, reaching immediately for the alcohol that loosens their nerves. You're quite drunk by then, babbling on about some ancient heroic hymns and the process of which ambrosia is dedicated to the gods, dancing your fingers across a lute with a whirling fervor. You swing your body with a feverish madness, throwing it against the vivacious bodies bouncing across the room, sinking your mouth into the bitter lips of a bottle once more‒ hoping to jostle and boil the ache in your body with some lunatic passion. But soon, that cavity in your chest grows too heavy for you to move your body with such vigor‒ and you excuse yourself out of the room onto the balcony, despite the pleas for another song. Even with their roaring solicitation, begging for another intoxicating melody, promising a dimness in the room if you leave it‒ the space remains hot and lively as you turn from it, sobering you with the chilled autumn evening, and the darkened blueness of the world.
You find the golden lyre in your hands, your florid fingers grazing the engraved wreath composed of the many titles your ancestors bore. Orphéfs, Aoidan Patēr, Tælætárkhis, Kælefstís, Khrysolýris ,Prophítis, Khrysáoros, Onomaklyton, Chrysolyrēs, Paian, and finally, Euainētos. It spans the entire arch of the metal, beginning from the coiled head of the instrument, ending with your title at the opposite tip, filling the space with each letter‒ E U A I N Ē T O S‒ to leave no capacity for another. Perhaps it was all fated in the beginning, to slowly chip away at your bloodline‒ until someone like you remained, alone, and ended your legacy in that way as divine punishment. Even on these nights you sung wonderful merriness into, you retreated like this‒ helpless to the waves of pity and the axis of despair that spun you dizzy‒ whipping and cracking against your crumbling heart as you were reminded of the burden of the gift, the kindness, the everything you had to keep giving while killing any sort of expectation for anything. But at times that hunger for that tantalizing fruit swelled, the sweetness of looking into the face of love gathering the pieces of your heart and molding it together in its temporary warmth. Surely, it is not bravery, but perhaps blindness, stupidity‒ that reeled you back like this every time, whispering against bruised flesh‒ the hurt would be worth it this time. You really never knew if it was, having a seasoned sense to extinguish that voice when you remembered the poison that would lay in your path because of it.
During times like this, you were careful not to weave your own poetry‒ afraid that if you had unleashed all of this emptiness at once, the world would decay and pulverize into stardust, quieted from all of its life and launched every which way into the eternal cosmos‒ the gods, tipping their ears to your destruction, and punishing you with another effortless thrust that hurdled you off the cliff of your mountain of love into the endless pits of your grief. So you recited a hymn of two star-crossed lovers, encrusting the roses that weaved onto the balcony with a white frost.
“Hey.” The gentleness of that voice for a moment brought a stuttering warmth to your song‒ breathing a lifted radiance that bloomed into the flowers. But you quelled the muchness, the everything even as it burns in the tightness of your throat, managing to return a small, “Hey” back to Vil.
“Tired already?”
You scoff with a slight smile on your lips. “You wish.The night is still young.” You make room for Vil on the bench, dangling off nearly half your body when you do. He sits with a delicate grace, his sweet perfume reaching your nose with a twinge of alcohol melded in.
“The air feels nice. Reminds me of back home.”
Home. You try to imagine it, and you're just met with dusty, barren rooms‒ and Vil, Vil, Vil. He is everywhere in your memories and tethered to home, filling that empty house with his laughter, his warmth. Like your memories, you allow yourself to sink into him, filling your chest with his sensation. The bench is not meant for two people, but you manage.
“Tell me, which one of your stories were you babbling on about?”
“Oh nothing, really. Just some old tale, not any of mine. I’m tired of having to thread something from myself.”
“All these old tales‒ they all end the same don’t they.” He recalls his career, strife with the same, fairytale endings over, and over, and over again. The villain, no matter how bright, how cunning, how beautiful‒ will fall, slain at the feet of the hero. He understood your sophistication to this tragedy at a young age, bearing this destruction over and over. Still, your back remained ever brighter than anyone he knew despite being whipped against this ceaseless death. “Why don’t you sing of something more bright, beautiful, happy in your life?”
You chuckle. “What, like you?” The air cools the slight flush of your skin. Raising your hand to the skies like a muse, you lift your body to the balcony railing, lunging towards the heavens. “Oh gods lend thy ears to my hymn dedicated to very best companion‒ Vil Schoenheit‒ his beauty surpassing all those on this land even you dreadful creatures‒ kindness penetrating all of sentient beings; hair silky smooth as Galatea's skin‒ whoa!”
Vil catches you by the waist before you tip over the edge of the rail, almost melting in your mild aroma if it wasn’t for your loss of balance. He swings you down to the balcony floor.
“You.. half witted, drunken bard. I’ll kill you if I start wrinkling at this age because of your antics.”
You lean back onto the balcony, afraid of the soaring feeling his touch engraved in you. Your breath stinks of liquor as you let out a laugh, throwing your head back off the rail. “The god won’t hear anyway. The story I must tell is already composed in the stars by their hands.” The corner of your lips weighs into a softer, mathematical smile‒ one which ensured it warranted no pity, no kindness, no woe. “I have no true say in what I sing. It doesn’t matter. None of it does.”
You avoid Vil’s face, but your eyes heave over to them in a covetous gaze. There is no pity, no kindness, no woe‒ but understanding‒ something which makes you want to fall deep into the earth, all the way to the chamber of Hades, to bury yourself deep into the cold ground to shackle down any desire that may arise for that dangling fruit. But you yield to the celestial warmth in them, one which reflects the heat of your fluttering heartbeat in the tender lavender of his eyes. A warmth that did not burn, or was fed by taking your own, one which glowed with sublime beauty and touched like warm flesh. It takes an agonizing effort from you to sink and sabotage your heart from enjoying that tender touch, instead reaching your hands to the wintery, still metal of your lyre.
“...I understand that feeling. It's the same when you get type-casted over and over again." He stares at your hands plucking a wistful tune. "It's like you have no story to tell but the ones people keep deciding for you."
Your hands move ceaselessly to twist a sorrowful song, so shamelessly in front of Vil. You plucked with mulled, languid fingers, aching to play something much faster, much lighter than the weight licking against the strings of your heart. But a growing force born of your own flesh, would not let you, seizing control of your body and its movements, intoxicating it with a rupture, a breaking, a splitering that followed the lines of old scars.
“You’re so beautiful, Vil. And so diligent, resilient too. You could command the seas and the stars if you pleased.” You giggled to squint your eyes, hoping it would shade the absolute adoration within them. “You’ll be whatever you want to be. That’s the Vil I know. I don’t care if you’re a hero, or a villain. You’re…” everything. All of it. “...you’re always that beautiful Vil to me.”
He believes every word from you, he always does. Anger sparks in him. "What about you, then?" Those words came fast, escaping his throat without a hesitance prickling through it.
"Hm? What about me?"
"You're the same‒ you could shake the earth with your songs, and you do." A heated temper welled inside him, buzzing, swollen like a burn. How dare you speak like this? How dare you speak so lowly, so carelessly to the one he loved? "What about you? What will you become?"
"It is already decided‒"
"By who exactly?" He demanded, louder.
"By the gods of course. The ones which my family dishonored‒ "
“I am asking about you‒ what do you want? What will you do with all your love?” What about us? He wished things were a certain way so he could have tasted the sweetness of those words. But he bit his tongue.
A hollow laugh thrusts past your lips. "But why should I try? Only few have returned from the trials of love with someone to share that victory with. Many take their lives‒ you know‒ my mother did." You rested your hand on top of your instrument. "It all ends the same. They all leave.”
"But they're not you."
"The same blood flows within me." He was being so persistent tonight. You wished he’d give up, but it would also break you if he abandoned you at this moment.
He can’t help the sarcasm lacing into his voice, rising from the rage swelling inside him. "I wasn’t aware you passed down the same heart too, is it a family heirloom?”
The silence hurt your ears like a bitter, frosted wind, matching the feeling in your chest that ached so freshly at those thrashing words.
“They don’t.” You answered finally. “But this heart is neither theirs nor mine. It is for the gods to ravage. And I don’t know where to put it. All this love.” You turn towards the sky, sparing him the sight of your tears.
“Okay, fine.” Vil sucked a breath in, he was feeling brave now‒ perhaps it was blindness, stupidity. “Then let me have it.”
"...what?" He sees the tension grow in your shoulders, the heave of your white breath against the inky, cold air.
"Give it to me." He said with more greed, hunger rumbling, plump in his veins.
"No." You gripped the gilded gold handle of your lyre. "No. I cannot do that to you. I won't. You're‒ you're‒" Everything. Love. My memories. My love. My everything. The words came tumbling from your mouth. "You're too precious, Vil. What would the world do without you?" No. You felt those weren't quite the right words. "What would I do without you?"
Vil swallows the space between you two with one step.“You won’t have to live without me. I’ll be here. With you.”
“You don’t know that! Don’t‒ don’t say things like that.” You shake, those words sharpened at him, lashing against his sweetness. “I can’t lose you. You’re different, you’re unlike anyone I’ve met. Even the gods cannot tear you away from me. I…” I love you. “...I could not bear it if you sunk below this mortal sea‒ if I robbed you of your life. Don’t do this. Stop.”
He embraces your form. You want to lurch away from his tender arms, but you can’t. His arms station themselves like ancient stone around your body. “The gods have always been merciful to you when they brought us together. But you have not been the same to yourself.”
You thumbed your title on your lyre numbly, pleading. “Stop. Don’t do this. Don’t say things like that.” Don’t, don’t, don’t.
“Don’t take me for a fool, tell me why, then. Did all of these years mean nothing to you?“
“Because it will fade. Love is ephemeral, it dies, it withers. Do you truly believe it is eternal? Like some stupid fairytale?”
He remembers your words towards him. You could command the seas and the stars if you pleased…You’ll be whatever you want to be. “When you sing of it in your songs, I believe it. You make eternity out of love. You’re more of an idiot than I thought if you won’t do the same for your own.”
You don’t answer him, leaning the back of your head against his flaying heartbeat, trembling.
“It seems I can’t get through to you in these flowery words, you stupid bard.” He turns you to face him, a smile reaches his lips despite him seeing, for the first time, those greedy, fat tears that fall from your face. “I love you, dumbass. I will plow my way out of heaven and hell for you to hear this.”
“I…” You want to run, hide, thrash against his grip with the decaying vehemence of your song. Instead, you force out thick, hitching breaths with a burning in your lungs. “Is this‒ are you‒”
“I’m certain. I’ve had about an excruciating decade to be certain, (Name).”
In your lifetime as a balladeer, you’ve trained your throat to trill the highest notes, sung your muscles raw to commit epics to memory, thickened the flesh of your lungs to cry bellowing poetry for colossal crowds. The world knew a thousand words from you. But the sun had never touched the words spilling from your mouth, pouring out corroded and rusted with the heat of your heart. It comes as a babbling rustle, rough as a child’s cry. Your arms move on their one, tangling into his neck and burrowing your face into the curve of his shoulder. It's warm, so warm. “I love you too. I love you, I love you.” You feel suspended in the heavenly, prickling starlights in his embrace.
"Tell me this isn't a dream‒ some cruel dream spun by the gods. Please?" The metal of your lyre sings as it hits the ground. You would not let the gods interrupt you this time, holding his face to look for any semblance of betrayal, cruelty‒ anything that would tear down this moment like the gods had promised. But it never came. This was your Vil.
"Can I show you instead?" He peeled your lip forward, exposing the flushed color to his eyes. Was this the color of your blood? Your throat? Perhaps he could taste it if he tried hard enough.
Your breath was already mixing with his when you begged. "Please‒"
His lips molded against yours‒ you tasted the faintest twinge of candied apples sticking against his plush flesh. He pulled you closer, hoping to color his insides with your smell, your taste‒ more, anything that would bring you closer to him. When you separated to breathe, you greedily gulped the air scented with his sweet fragrance, before diving back to his lips. Again‒ one more time‒ just to make sure this was all real. The bruising of your lips and feverish fluttering of your breaths made you believe, indeed, that this was reality. You grinned‒ your cheeks throbbing.
“There is so much you have to make up for.” He says, smiling against your grazing fingers against his lips, committing every curve and grove to your memory. You would fill yourself with him like this. “Or‒ we have a lot to make up for.”
You enjoyed the way his eyes flushed with a sea of violet as they squinted, crushed from his brimming cheeks. “I’m sorry. I will. As much as time will let me, I’ll make it up to you again, and again.”
“Show me.”
You dip your mouth onto his once more, tasting the fountain of sweetness spilling from his throat. A smile, one for yourself and no one else, flowers on your face. "I'll have to shape us into a song. I'll make sure they'll paint of us, sculpt us, sing of us‒ they'll remember us. Two lovers, you and me, a constellation of love." The lightness of your laughter almost pulled him up to the heavens. Finally.
"You have such a talent of making everything sound so stupidly splendid."
"Because you make it so.”
You strum your lyre, lacing your adoration into the notes, each finger weighted by the love in your heart. The roses of the garden grow fragrant, fruit and flowering buds swung from the trees, lavender sprouting from between the crackling veranda floor. An everlasting spring of your love, infinite as the elements that grow, and wither, and die, and rebirth into the earth allows you to plant your feet next to Vil’s. You look to him, finding mischief, kindness, and tenderness swirling in the violet, speckling with the glassy blue. It was as if the whole expanse of the sky lay within each of his eyes‒ infinity‒ you thought. Your infinity, a garden of lasting spring you would grow with each loving note from your throat. There would be frost, there would be decay‒ but not even the gods could lay their hands upon this infinite season. You titter, filled with its warmth, listening to the beat of his heart, spinning a song, an eternity from it.
——————————————————
Notes:
Title inspired by Shakespear's poem "Orpheus" “Orpheus with his lute made trees / And the mountain tops that freeze / Bow themselves when he did sing / To his music plants and flowers / Ever sprung; as sun and showers / There had made a lasting spring.”
Euainētos is an epithet for Orpheus, meaning well praised. I thought it would be interesting for an MC who has many people who love them for what they can give, rather than love them as a whole (the whole “people love me but don’t like me” dilemma). Love an angsty epithet.
Lavender has historically been a symbol for both lesbians and gay men‒ an overarching mark of queerness. I try to be as inclusive as I can with my language and writing‒ but all art is a self portrait of their creators. So, because I'm queer, my writing will inevitably be queer coded too. I thought it was a nice touch to add because I do headcanon Vil as queer‒ both in his gender and sexuality. The pronouns he uses in the Japanese version has a historical connection to the "Okama"/"transsexual" and contemporarily, queer people in Japan. Our culture I think often twists gender expectations and language because of the rigidity in our language and social structure as an extension of ourselves (language = very strong way to express the self = entices subversive use of this powerful tool). We also have a great history in queer gender performance in our performance arts‒ such as Kabuki and Takarazuka which have deep influences in our overall society and culture. Though western literature and society has not seen these people explicitly "queer" I think westerners (and Japan as it is affected by Western ideology) need to expand their definition of queerness so that it is culturally inclusive. So to me I think Vil falls within that definition of queerness (also, his dress/uniform slays) on the gender and sexuality spectrum and I thought lavender was a good, subtle nod to that.
Also, the hanakotoba (flower language) for Lavenders is "I await you", silence, hope, hesitancy, elegance, "love that forgives'', and "please answer to me"- it has both positive and slightly sorrowful sentiments, and an aspect of yearning that I love lol. I love flower language so fucking much I use it with every chance I get
Title is also inspired from this plus, yes you guessed it, our lord and savior Mitski (First Love/Late Spring)
Your mother's body is burned because cremation was popularized by the Athenians and became common practice by the Homeric era. Coin placed in the mouth (Charon's obol) is the payment for Charon to carry you across the river of the dead.
Why are there so many convoluted parental relationships in my fics? Easy! I have mommy AND daddy issues. Yes ladies you really can have it all
All the names I mentioned that are engraved onto the lyre are different epithets of Orpheus
Working on the Azul x Siren hanahaki fic soon~ Here is the post of myth-inspired ideas if you haven’t seen it
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland vil schoenheit#vil shoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#twisted wonderland vil#twst vil schoenheit#twisted wonderland vil schoenheit x reader#twisted wonderland x mc#twisted wonderland x you#twst vil schoenheit x reader#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland fan fiction#twisted wonderland hurt/comfort#twisted wonderland scenerios#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland rook hunt#leona kingscholar#twisted wonderland oc#hurt/comfort#twisted wonderland angst#twisted wonderland writing#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted oc#vil schoenheit#twst fanfic#twst vil#twisted series#twst x reader#twst imagines
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May I make a request a headcanon of Rook and Vil as Vampire grooms? (Think the Ghost Bride event but instead of Eliza, it's Rook and Vil if that makes sense?)
What would they be like? Were they always vampires or were they human once? How do they behave? Etc, etc. Thank you and have a good day!
You know, I usually don't take such requests. But I came up with an interesting idea….
Yes, about the next AU.
I'm sorry, my dear. I hope this doesn't go too far against what you wanted to read from me.
AU, where is Yuu/MC is a messenger/postman among the world of supernatural beings.
Something like a hunter of evil spirits. Only Yuu is now a postman and does not hunt for anyone. Poor Prefect.
In what AU they just did not enter. Ahahahaha.
So our humble postman, who was hired by a completely random coincidence. * cough * Crowley's failed machinations * cough*
Goes straight to the lair of one of the young and influential vampires, in the middle of the night.
You ask how a simple person wasn't devoured by vampires who didn't know about Yuu yet?
Very simple.
Perfume.
Sickening creepy strong-blown spirits. So strong that Yu himself had to walk in a raspirator. And no one really knew the Prefect's face.
No self-respecting vampire, and with at least a small grain of self-preservation instinct, does not approach the postman.
Because ....
1. The smell will make their sense of smell hit their brains so hard that they won't even realize what they're doing.
If they are very assertive. They will get a powder in their face from which they will sneeze for at least an hour.
Holy water does not particularly harm them. But vampires carefully take care of their skin, and holy water can cause wild irritation and rash all over their body.
Yuu has a special whistle that deafens any "creature" very loudly. And the postman manages to run away gracefully and with curses at this time.
Only new converts have a strong "withdrawal and bloodlust", older vampires cope with thirst perfectly and find alternative options to eat.They also eventually return to "meals" like ordinary people.
So our beautiful vampire * wild cough* the family I love * wild cough* the trio settled in one of the main halls and waited for news.
Vil Schoenheit (goddesses of mercy, I will never be able to remember how to spell his last name correctly)
One of the main leaders of this castle-mansion-refuge among vampires.
So to speak, this is a center where vampires do not need to hide and ordinary people who are not particularly aware of all the details of their lives do not bother them.
-Has an extensive social life. And he doesn't hide it at all.
-He was an actor in the past. After a couple of continuous years of attention and a brilliant career, he wanted peace and quiet to gain strength and the memory of him subsided slightly.
-When he was young human, his career was just beginning and literally gave the first sparks of a brilliant career.
But after turning into a vampire, everything stopped for several years.
He had to disappear with a nervous breakdown from the experience and from the realization and find this mansion "Pomfiore" to recover. Turning into a vampire was painful and without consent.
It was one of the most terrible and terrible periods in the life of Vil.
One of the vampires lost himself and started attacking some people that caught his eye. Unfortunately, he caught sight of a Vil returning from training that evening.
What became of that vampire is little known, the hunters took care of him.
But the Beautiful Queen had to come to terms with a new "reality" and his "new self"
That's how he got into the mansion from the hunters. For After rehabilitation in Pomfiore. Soon he returned to his activities with stunning success.
True, he stipulated some "nuances" for his work.
The sunlight burned him at first. Over time, it became the fact that he "quickly turns red and burns in the sun"
Vampires have the most powerful sunscreen among all the others.ahahah.
Rook Hunt
His past is a mystery, but only Vil was able to find information that the Rook family was completely attacked by several vampires.
His family escaped with only scratches or bruises. But the Rook was the least lucky. He was also forcibly turned into a vampire.
And with a heavy heart, he had to leave his family for rehabilitation. Hunters identified him first under the head of Sawanaclaw - Leona. Expecting that it will become easier for him here.
But the place, although it was not bad, but with the meeting of Vil, who visited the head of the Kingscholar lands, his views changed and he begged for a transfer to another place.
Rook is one of those vampires who "takes care" of certain new vampires a little and helps them get used to life with vampire blood in their veins.
He communicates with his family and when vampires go through several stages of "thirst" they can visit their families.
But only under the strict supervision of one of the older vampires or hunters.
Both Vill and Rook communicate with their relatives and friends. In fact, Pomfiore is for them a kind of outlet from those terrible memories and pain that they had to go through.
Sooooooooooo. Let's go back to the query.
Sorry I got carried away…..
Sitting in a comfortable, elegant armchair, Yuu peacefully snacked on sandwiches and tea that other vampires kindly treated them to. After the long drive to the mansion, Yuu was always fed something. Either they brought a snack with them or bought food on the spot.
For newcomers, Yuu was "a breath of air from the past nomal life" and they also always brought some news or interesting stories.
It's funny, but with the arrival of Yuu, I always had to open the windows so that no one would suffocate from the "smell of security"
-So…..why did you call me? - Sipping a sip of hot tea, Yuu watched the two main vampires of Pomfiore with interest.
-Oh, our dear postman, how do you feel about marriage? - Rook cooed, quickly sorting letters into various drawers of the closet for each resident of their mansion.
-Ahem…..haven't planned yet? - puzzled, tilting his head and with a questioning tone, Yuu turned his gaze to Vil, who meanwhile was reading a fresh newspaper.
-Great. We need a "marriage partner" for one occasion. You're just right for it. - quickly and gracefully folding the newspaper, Vil fixed his stunning beautiful eyes on the humble postman. Who were even more confused.
-Ah, King of Poison, you beat me to it! Our humble postman was "my first" choice, you know~
-Well, you should have been faster Rook. - Vil smiled smugly.
-Did you ……still eat those fermented grapes, right? And I told you it wouldn't end well. - becoming even more confused, Yuu quickly looked around and evaluated the escape options. The choice fell on an open window.
-No, no. we don't eat suspicious things. - Rook immediately protested calmly.
-Said the man who tried to bite a pine cone last week.
-Oh, Trickster, my fangs itched, you know!Sometimes you want to sharpen them on something rough and hard. - the Rook added embarrassingly and awkwardly.
-You did…….WHAT?! - Vil immediately intervened, staring in surprise at his vampire interlocutor.
-The main thing is that I am not included in the number of these items to "sharpen fangs"..
After a little explanation from Vil, it turned out that they both longed to get to one charity concert, which was arranged only for "married couples".
A strange condition, but Yuu refused with all their might and tried to escape. Until someone's hand grabbed them by the collar of their shirt…
-Oh, dear postman!Are you leaving already?So fast?
… and did not hold it by inhuman force.
Rook….scared the hell out of him sometimes, but he's nice. Sometimes…
-You knooow, I just remembered that I need to deliver another correspondence!! Thank you for your hospitality, it was very nice to tell you!!!And now I have to go..
Yuu quickly started talking and tried to escape unnoticed and twitch on the spot to free themselves.
Rook it was only amusing. Like a small animal trapped and desperately trying to get free.
Seeing the looks of two strong vampires who are part of Crowley's own trust, Yuu quietly and plaintively whined, realizing that they were in terrible trouble.
-Please let me go home…..a cat is waiting for me at home, who will feed him besides me…..
Vampires were extremely amused by the reaction of the little postman to their "modest" request to be their "partner in marriage." And charming requests to let them go because of the cat waiting for them at home.
On the one hand, yes, this is a tempting offer. Two very beautiful vampires, with status, influence and money…
Only Yuu was scared to hell that first of all they arranged an "unspoken competition" who would put the ring on Yuu's finger faster. The postman knows damn well that it's better not to mess with "creatures" that compete with each other.
Secondly, there was no guarantee that they would really be released later. What if they're really going to announce their engagement?! And how will Yuu be able to explain this to the others?!???
"Oh, excuse me, I've got a wedding ring on my finger here, blown by the wind from an open window pane?"
A stupid and ridiculous excuse that will make few people understand.
Thirdly, Yuu was quite satisfied with their relatively quiet introverted life. And somehow they wanted to go through other stages like flowers or dates.
Fourth, the Yuu were categorically against this attention. So they had to leave work and play the whole show!
It was one of the most stressful evenings in the life of the humble postman Yuu.
Fortunately for them, Epel intervened and explained to these two that it was a bad idea to get involved in this poor man.
Epel even threatened to bite them both.
This is usually not dangerous, but the bite will itch and itch unpleasantly.
Poor Epel had to listen to 40 minutes of lectures from Vil that only rabid dogs bite, and he is a noble vampire.
In the end, Yuu had to agree that Yuu would go with the two of them together. And their story will be that "a modest person cannot choose between two handsome men and accepts both of their proposals for more careful consideration of the final decision."
From time to time, Yuu also pretended to be "vampires" while they were "being prepared for the role", which greatly amused and made other vampires laugh who were watching all this.
In short, Yuu was done as in this picture.
-I'm a vampire. raaaaar.~
#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst mc#twst yuu#twisted wonderland x reader#twsited wonderland#twst reader#twst au#postman au#twst vil#twst rook#vil shoenheit#rook hunt
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Twisted wonderland hunger games AU
(Keep in mind i am 99% sure i placed them wrong and this is my first long post feedback would be nice. I am only going to put the funny ones and the most important ones sorry. I will also not do the nights... I am typing this on my phone that is why sorry)
District 1
Kalim Al - asim
Malleus draconia
District 2
Rook hunt
Sliver
District 3
Idia shroud
Ortho shroud
District 4
Vil schoenheit
Jade leech
District 5
Riddle rosehearts
Jack howl
District 6
Floyd leech
Leona kingscholar
District 7
Epel felmier
Sebek zigvolt
District 8
Lilia vanrouge
Jamil viper
District 9
Deuce spade
Trey clover
District 10
Ace trappola
Azul ashengrotto
District 11
Ruggie bucchi
Cater diamond
District 12
Yuu/mc
Grim
The bloodbath
-Ruggie, grim, ortho, jamil, rook, kalim, jade, vil, sliver, deuce run away from the cornucopia.
-Lilia, riddle grab a backpack not realizing it was empty (damn🤣)
-ace finds a bag of explosives (dear god take it away💀)
-azul sets trey on fire with a molotov(💀damn💀)
Day 1
-ace and azul track down and kill ortho(nooo my baby😭)
-yuu/mc thinks about home(damn not much different from nrc💀)
-a lot of people hunt other tributes... There are too many sorry💀
Dead
Trey
Ortho
Malleus
Day 2
-vil, grim and floyd get into a fight and floyd kill them both(😭not grim)
-jamil steals from yuu/mc when he is not looking(if it him idc🥰)
-epel gets explosives from a unknown sponsor(💀 god damn another one that needs it taken away)
Dead
Leona
Sebek
Cater
Vil
Grim
Day 2
-epel catches ace of guard amd kills him
-azul steals from rook when he is not looking(how tho😭)
-jack defeats deuce in a fight, but spears his life(lol)
Dead
Kalim
Ace
Day 4
-idia defeats jack in a fight, but spares him(i surprised)
-sliver chases yuu/mc
Dead
None
Day 5
-a lot of people hunt for other tributes
Dead
None
Night 5 (tw in this one)
I added this because i found these nights important btw
-riddle throws a knife into idia's head(shit you got good aim)
-rook can't handle the circumstances and commits suicide(uhhhhh.... Idk what to say guys)
Day 6
-jack repeatedly stabs deuce to death with a sais(what is a sais??)
-sliver shoots a poisonous blow dart into floyd's neck, slowly killing him
-jade attacks riddle, but manages to escape
-epel stalks yuu/mc(simp much)
Dead
Idia
Rook
Deuce
Floyd
Day 7
-jade runs away from epel
-azul travels to higher ground(sir you are a merperson you need water)
Dead
None
Night 7
-sliver kills ruggie with a sickle
-azul dies from thirst(what did i say💀)
-riddle stabs yuu/mc in the back with a trident( finally some did it)
The feast
-epel ambushes jade and kills him
-jamil kills him with his own weapon
-lilia falls in a frozen lake and drowns
Day 8
-jack dies from an infection
-jamil goes hunting
-sliver tries to sleep through the day(key word TRIED)
Dead
Ruggie
Yuu/mc
Azul
Jade
Riddle
Lilia
Jack
Night 8
-epel and sliver falls into a pit and dies
-jamil questions his sanity
Dead
Epel
Sliver
Winner
Jamil viper🐍
That took too long man let me know if i should do it with the staff as well. Could have done better but i am typing thing on my phone💀
@teeteeweetee
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#ace trappola#trey clover#riddle rosehearts#cater diamond#deuce spade#sebek zigvolt#lilia vanrouge#sliver#malleus draconia#diasomnia#jamil viper#kalim al asim#rook hunt#vil schoenheit#epel felmier#azul ashengrotto#floyd and jade leech#ruggie bucchi#leona kingscholar#jack howl#idia shroud#ortho shroud
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Happy Birthday Vil 👑
“What do you mean by that, potato?!”
He crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows in anger, amethyst eyes glaring daggers at you... You were laying down on the bed, curled up with your knees on your chest, with your back turned to him and you were at the verge of tears. Still, you looked at him in the eye and started talking.
“I mean... I hate how I look... Here you are with beautiful hair, eyes, lashes, porcelain skin, glossy lips... But when I look at myself, I feel a little.. ugly...”
He remained silent, but the hand that was on your shoulder before was gone. You heard the bed rustle and the next thing you knew was him pulling you close. You looked back, but his expression was unreadable; you couldn’t figure out what he was feeling... His hand went to your chest, then he lowered it to your leg.
“Liebling...” He whispered in your ear and kissed your neck, then trailed his hand and lips down to your back. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Mm..?”
“I love you just the way you are...”
You reluctantly turned to face him.
“...”
“And don’t you ever forget that, okay?”
.
.
.
His hands were now on your wrists, pinning them while you’re beneath him with your ass up in the air. With how his cock moved in and out of you, with how some parts of your body was covered in purple lipstick marks and with how much the slicky sounds coming from your poor, abused hole, you couldn’t help but scream every time his cock drew out a moan from you. You tried so hard to bite your lips, but the next second Vil entered in your mouth with his tongue and started kissing you while he fucked you senselessly. When he broke off the kiss, he put a hand on your chin to make you look at him in the eye.
“(Y/N)...”
He gently called out your name in contrast to his relentless pace.
“Look at me, (Y/N)...”
You looked away in shame, but his tone was stern.
“I want you to look at me, (Y/N)..!”
You shut your eyes tightly, but he stops for a moment to gaze at your figure; your slightly twitching body, your flushed cheeks, your eyebrows, your (e/c) eyes... Then he places a sweaty kiss on your forehead and keeps thrusting, causing you to subconsciously scream out his name.
“Vil~!”
He leans in again and kisses your temple.
“Look at you, my sweet potato... You are more beautiful like this.. with a sight only I’M allowed to see... Do you understand~?”
You nod as he kisses your neck and grabs your hips, thrusting one last time before emptying his load into you which makes you scream out his name for the nth time.
#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#vil schoenheit thirst#vil schoenheit smut#Again this was short :'(#Sorry-#I think I’m starting to lack inspiration for fics...
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AYO 🧪
HE CAME IN 20 ROLLS 😭 BLESS SCIENCE, I’LL fORGIvE HIM foR weARinF HIS PPE WrONG even though wearing your PPE improperly is unsexy/j
***Warning: Groovy spoilers under the cut!***
U’LL EvEN FIRGIVE YOU FOR lOOKIN LIKE yOUmRE THINKinG AbOUT DRinKJng thR SAmE PURPKE KOOLAiD VIL DYES thE ENDS OF HIS hAiT WiTH IN YOU gROOVY seriously though, don’t remove your protective goggles like that, boi 😭
asdhkyasdygoqifid Love how his interaction with the special Science Club furniture (a science glassware set) changes his hair color 💞 I’ve seen so many memes floating around about how Rook’s colored hair looks like Edna Mode (The Incredibles), Stephanie (Lazy Town), etc.
#Rook Hunt#twst#twisted wonderland#Vil Schoenheit#disney twisted wonderland#Rook Hunt thirst#gacha salt#notes from the writing raven#spoilers#Lazy Town#Lazytown#The Incredibles#Edna Mode#Stephanie
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MC's in Pomefiore in this one
Epel and MC ditching etiquette lessons and Vil has to go fish them bc Rook is elsewhere (probably stalking Neige oof-), he checks the whole dorm before checking their rooms thinking they wouldn't be hiding in there.
Oh how wrong he was, as he approached Epel's room he hears moans and cries getting louder and louder, normally he's not one to interrupt someone's privacy but those moans sound a lil too familiar so he decides to investigate.
He slowly opens the door of Epel's room trying to not make any noise and what he sees next makes him speechless.
He just walked in on Epel giving MC the railing of a life time. Both of them messy, loud, fluids everywhere on the bed Epel telling them the most vile and dirty things making them clench around him so hard he cums for who knows how many times, they both lost the count, nor they cared.
Vil genuinely doesn't know what to say, he knew they were both wild souls but damn- even though he can't deny that MC just looks so appetizing there on all fours with tears in their eyes bubbling incomprehensible sentences between their moans, a particularly harsh slap on their ass snapped him out of his thoughts and he decides to leave and let it slide since he had a little "problem" with his friend down there to take care of.
Epel and MC come out of the room perfectly clean and curated unaware of their dorm leader seeing their little affair lmao-
I'M GOING TO BE OUT OF BUSINESS IF MY DARLINGS ARE DOING A BETTER JOB THAN ME WRITING NSFW LIKE THIS!!!/J
HONESTLY, MY JAW JUST DROPPED READING THIS...LIKE WOW????? HAT'S OFF TO YOU, MY POMEFIORE DARLING!!!!
#twisted talks from hana#answered#twisted thirsts from darlings#pomefiore x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland n/sfw#vil schoenheit#epel felmier#x reader#twisted wonderland
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✦۟ ࣭ ⊹ — leo ! any pronouns, bi, 8teen. [n]sfw so proceed with caution pretty please ! sugawara's lovie + osamu's gf + vil schoenheit's lovesick loverboy ৎ୭
playlist ୨୧ : masterlist ⭒ rules - dni/byf ⭒ tags ⭒ ♡
reqs : open | thirsts/random asks : open
© zmbiesuga 2023 do not repost my works to any other sites, copy, translate or modify my works !
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thank you very much anon who shared his dream about vil
Now I want vil and a male version of Jessica Rabbit (Jesse?) to fight for my attention
Thanks
Mmmm yes-
Let him kabedon with his thick heel boots with chains on them U-U
#twst#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit thirst#twst thirst#honeymilkdepresso.exe#make him wear red eye shadow make up tho-#I don't know-#make him be fancy yet snappy-
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