#vil shoenheit imagine
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To Be a Songbird: Part One
Summary: Arranged marriages are wonderful when they work and disastrous when they don’t. The funny part? You never thought that you’d be in this situation. You had always wanted to marry your betrothed and now you’re single. What a joy.
Vil x Reader x Leona
Part One (Here!), Part Two , Part Three
Welcome to the second story for wedding month! This story has some wedding themes that I’m only now realizing lol. I hope that you enjoy! Also: I haven’t decided the final pairing so if you have some thoughts please let me know!
Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Insecure Thoughts (Reader), Political Drama
To love, in Twisted Wonderland, can be a curse. Not in the literal sense (unless you pissed someone off) but because things always ended up on the extremes. It was either a fairy tail happy ending or a villain’s goodbye. The higher up in class you went, the worse it got. Being next in line to a Dukedom (not officially the heir), love isn’t something in the cards. Even for you.
Partly that was because you were already in love. In love with someone that you had grown up with, someone who had seen you at your worst moments. Someone who had once claimed that he wanted nothing more than to marry you. Of course, that was a long time ago. Now, he doesn’t want you. Now, you’re too insecure to stay but self-respecting enough to break it off. Now, you’re going to break your own heart.
Today, you break your engagement since childhood with Vil Schoneheit.
♥
This isn’t how you planned the night to go. Tonight, you had been invited out to party based on your own status. Vil had been invited separately and you hadn’t mentioned anything to him. He would insist one of you skipped and you weren’t willing to compromise after another skipped meeting. You had your own business to conduct damn it. You were going to chat with your friends a bit, talk about the newest peace treaty and avoid Vil.
Everything went perfectly fine. Vil had seemed annoyed but said nothing once he saw you. That’s all he looked at you with anymore; annoyance or contempt. You ignored him, doing what you set out to do and having a great time. You were even able to get Duke Rosehearts to agree to meet next month. No one was insulted, you smiled at some of the princes and princesses and headed home.
Vil was already waiting in the foyer as you pulled up, Charlotte helping slip your jacket off. He was pacing back and forth, glaring at the walls. It struck you that it had been years since Vil was in your home. Before he had gotten more serious about modeling. Before he was aiming to be Queen. Before he cut you out of his life. The last time he was in these walls the two of you were running around the garden with fake swords.
“Lord Schoneheit. What a late visit.” You raised your eyebrows, showing you were none too excited about him being here. All you wanted to do was sleep. Maybe draft a letter of reply to Prince Malleus. He turned at the sound of your voice, a curled smirk on his face. Even then he looked beautiful.
“Did you truly think I wouldn’t notice?” His question took you off guard and you paused, stopping in the hallway to stare at him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Rook and Epel tense and wanted to sigh. There was always an audience now. They were good attendants and you appreciated them but you couldn’t be yourself.
Vil looked regal in his royal purple assumable, dress ending right above the floor and cape fanned out behind him. His makeup and hair were perfect and you would think he was going to a photo shoot. Rook, his right hand, was in a matching purple suit and cape down to his knees. Epel was also in a suit but in a purple so pale it looked almost white. He looked uncomfortable in the formal wear but had finally stopped picking at his collar.
“Notice what Vil?” You sighed, tired and not in the mood to play games. “I was ignoring you most of the night, like always.” You thought your reassurances would have made him feel better but instead he scowled more. His heels were muffled on the carpet and he didn’t sway at all on the uneven ground.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” You met his eyes and resisted the urge to step back. His heels made him taller than you and he wasted no time in looming.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You sidestepped him, not backing up but not letting him corner you. “You made it very clear that we’re not to interact in public and I have respected that.” You made to walk past him and he caught your arm, eyes blazing.
“You danced with other men tonight.” You scoffed, shaking your head.
“Of course I did, I was asked. What’s the issue with that?” Rook shifted at your question but you couldn’t look at him to confirm. Epel looked paler and moved back, shifting closer to Rook.
“You are not allowed to dance with anyone until you danced with your fiancé.”
“That’s ridiculous.” You wanted to scream. The rule did sound vaguely familiar but you weren’t going to admit that. Southern countries and their courting rules.
“You think that I wouldn’t notice? Are you trying to embarrass me?” What was left of your patience snapped as his icy tone. You turned on your heel and Vil’s eyes got wide at the emotion on your face.
“Embarrass you!? I can’t embarrass you when you’re never seen with me! When no one knows we’re engaged! What was I supposed to do, refuse to dance with the princes? I can’t do this anymore Vil!” You could hear gasps and footsteps running from behind you. Your parents would be coming to mediate soon. He started to call you name but you cut him off, shaking your head.
“I have no issue with your career. I’m glad that you’re happy and you’ve never once pushed away your duties as future Duke. I even agreed, reluctantly, to not announce our engagement.” You laughed bitterly, refusing to cry. “I’m not good enough for you and I can understand that but this is ridiculous! You can’t have it both ways!”
“I don’t want it both ways!” Vil’s voice rose to match your own, Rook and Epel watching the two of you like a volleyball game. “I want you to respect your station!”
“My STATION!?” Your voice was a roar. The door opened behind you and you ignored it, taking a step towards him. “You forget yourself! Our contract is based on equal terms! I refuse to do this anymore! I’m tired of waiting for you to call this engagement off! If you won’t pull this bandage off, I will. I am finished!”
The room was deathly silent. No one dared breathe. Vil looked like you had stuck him across the face. Finally, Rook stepped between the two of you and your mother grabbed your arm, pulling you back. Servants began whispering and talking, their eyes wide. Your father stepped up and began to direct people, for once no one putting up a fight.
The rest of the night was a blur. You don’t remember Vil leaving but now that the words were in the air, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. You loved Vil with all your heart but you couldn’t, not anymore. The years to trying to be what he wanted, failing, trying again and again with no change. There’s a part of you that knows he cares, of course he does, but you need more than pretending you don’t exist. You need some acknowledgment of your history, of the little boy who loved you. You need him.
When you wake up in the morning, the paperwork was all filled out. You signed it feeling numb and your parents only nodded. While a treaty with the Schoneheit Dukedom would benefit both countries, it wasn’t necessary to keep up relations and trade. You had spoken with your parents and they with Vil’s father (years ago) and you all knew; sooner or later, the engagement would be called off. No one had ever expected it to be from you.
Two weeks later, you were officially back on the dating market. Two weeks later, you had to learn to start putting your heart back together. Two weeks later and it was time to get over Vil Schoneheit.
♥
It took society by storm when news of your broken engagement became public knowledge. It took a couple of months to really gain traction and by then you were a little number. You had agreed to keep things cordial and say that the two of you broke mutually. Vil hadn’t tried to fight you, letting you lead the charge. He looks haunted every time you see him and it breaks your heart at the same time it infuriates you.
Leona can’t say that he’s surprised when he hears the news. He knew the two of you were engaged, even if you never talked about it. One of those things on public record that no one ever looks into. He’s only talked to you a handful of times, mostly on diplomatic visits. You’re smart and quick, a little too loud for his tastes and a little too soft.
You’re one of the heirs to the northern most Dukedom and one of the only kingdoms with a strong matriarchy. Your family isn’t as involved politically as others due to geographical location but a surplus of resources mean that you’re usually invited to the table. The Schonehiet Dukedom is on the southwest side of the boarder, one of your closest neighbors.
There’s been a lot of controversy from the other lords in the country, mostly around bloodline. Your mother had married your father, a commoner. The North has never been as concerned with bloodline as the Southern lands but it still caused quiet a shock. Even after almost 25 years, there were still some lords that refused to see your father as legitimate.
It was all stupid in Leona’s opinion but it made things interesting to watch. He was more interested in who would take the crown. Call it morbid curiosity but he wanted to know if the second born would become the new Duke. Your brother didn’t want it, as far as Leona could tell, but the advisors wanted someone who was easier to control. You had too much spirit, you would never let them take power. You brother had stronger magic, that was the rumor at least, and some were saying he had inherited the family’s unique magic as well.
The announcement that your engagement had ended was going to change the game. You had been off the market for years officially because of the engagement and unofficially because you always waved suitors off. Because there wasn’t a precedent, not one felt the urge to push you to accept courting. Now that had all been turned upside down. Not only were you “on the market”, you were willing to make treaties besides purely diplomatic.
Leona dozed in the afternoon sun, tail thumping against the ground at a steady pace. Marriage was something every royal was expected to do, even himself. He liked you, as much as he could like anyone and sticking it to Vil was always a bonus. A tiny part of him thought that it might be nice to run to the north and away from everything. He snorted, dismissing the idea. It was about power, nothing more and nothing less. He’d send you a letter in the morning; you had been asking to meet around shipping for a while now and Leona wasn’t going to deny you anymore.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland imagine#vil shoenheit x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#vil shoenheit#leona kingscholar#vil shoenheit imagine#leona kingsholar imagine#vil x reader x leona#twst x reader#twst vil#twst leona#royalty au#twst au#twst imagines
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he's a ten but he...
premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.
characters. dorm leaders
content. gender neutral reader
malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)
"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"
"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"
he blinks, then shrugs.
like i said, has NO sense of space.
if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.
if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!
cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.
if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.
(I wish I could be that unbothered.)
lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.
^ totally has his own album full of pictures.
if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯
since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.
while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)
"child of man, have you slept?"
*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.
"WTF."
not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?
idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')
user: where tf r u??
ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?
user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES
unintentionally stood you up 💀
you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.
ghoul666: we do??
user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.
ghoul666: NO PLS
ghoul666: HELLO????
next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.
in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭
though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...
big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(
with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.
if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.
ghoul666: can we not go there
user: 😐
user: you are testing my patience love
ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)
ghoul666: how abt
ghoul666: mimic together? call
user: sighs
user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you
queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.
the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.
"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.
unsurprisingly does carry you.
asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)
vil (frets over you way too much.)
"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"
"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"
"I love you but please give it back—"
"I love you too, and no."
disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)
looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!
and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..
*shows up literally half an hour in*
why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)
vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.
oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..
you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.
if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!
you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.
"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"
you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)
vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."
you sigh.
"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."
vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."
"... I feel offended."
"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."
after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.
the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)
epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)
"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"
"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."
rook giggles away.
kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)
"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?
you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.
"a gift!"
"wait why does it say lot 111--"
as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.
but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..
fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.
after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.
"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"
"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."
if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...
( ^ it is btw.)
kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.
he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)
you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?
the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.
was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.
bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.
even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.
"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"
"for them! ;D"
"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"
"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"
you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...
(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')
azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)
"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."
"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"
"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."
pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.
now he won't go last 50!
ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.
last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.
love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.
but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*
but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.
who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..
yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.
they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.
one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?
...
they do look like they've seen some though..
jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)
long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.
"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.
azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"
he praises himself for his quick thinking.
COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)
then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.
it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.
you screech. "JADE PLEASE."
the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."
"AZUL."
"... only on a condition of course."
frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.
'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'
actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?
leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)
"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."
"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."
"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."
to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.
there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.
rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.
and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?
leona's work no doubt.
you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.
if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.
at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.
it goes something like;
"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."
a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.
you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.
...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.
"because you care about me?"
"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"
you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"
he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."
...
...
see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.
next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.
"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.
"really?" <- you, confused
riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)
“I'm just a little busy.”
“I understand,” riddle says.
“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.
“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…
“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point.
for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.
that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)
you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.
he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.
but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.
…busy…
riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.
somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.
“THIS IS ABSURD.”
and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)
that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.
everyone noted to steer clear.
and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’
“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.
he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)
guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite.
“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.
“i thought you were busy.” he adds.
your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.
he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile.
“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”
“no!”
silence.
“no.” he repeats, weaker.
“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?”
he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”
you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”
so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,
so cute…….
#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#twst fluff#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#riddle x reader#azul x reader#kalim x reader#malleus x reader#idia x reader#leona x reader#vil x reader#gn reader
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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 3]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit
Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: Teaching a Siren to read is perhaps the best or worst idea that you've ever had. If only you were half as capable of reading between the lines.
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3]
‘U-G-L-Y’
“Wow,” you drawled. “What a wonderful use of your new talents.”
The fish you were cooking landed upside down on the hot stone with a crackling sizzle of skin that you could feel as a jumping prickle of heat all along your arm. You poked at your impromptu stovetop with your impromptu stick-spatula and prepared your impromptu leaf-plates. A true culinary connoisseur, you were. When you were rescued, you were going to argue to Riddle that you deserved a promotion to the kitchens. Though, apparently not everyone appreciated your talents.
‘UGLY’ the Siren poked again, jabbing his talon into the sand.
“Then bring me prettier fish,” you returned, pointed. “It’s not that hard.”
His sharp, black claws came up to point at you next alongside his wonderful, two-syllable insult. Then back to you again, with four fingers this time. Both hands going for it. There was a tight, irritated expression on his face that you refused to call a pout because firstly, surely this vicious king of the seas could never pull something so childish. And secondly, because in these past few days you’d developed a terrible habit of just chattering each and every one of your thoughts aloud. And if you called him bratty, or dared imply such pouting was coming from his regal visage, you were just setting yourself up to get drenched by his flailing tail all over again.
“You can’t hurt my feelings,” you said, bland. “Ugly is the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”
He huffed and smacked his fins against the sand. The trailing, dark tips cracked against your leg and you kicked him right back. It didn’t actually hurt, no more than a pinch to the side, but you’d spent enough time with this asshole now that not fighting back like a toddler pitching a tantrum wasn’t an option anymore.
Just over two weeks, now. Fifteen days and counting.
Those first few days had been spent in a nervous, prey-like panic, of course. Watching him circle the bay with his shredded fins, crying at the top of his lungs until your goosebumps had goosebumps. And then you’d helped untangle him from the mess you’d made, delicately working salt-brined twine away from weeping wounds. Sure, there’d been that whole hoopla of him pinning you in the sand after your act of Great Chivalry and promptly threatening to rip your throat out with his teeth, but you’d moved past that. The offering of home-cooked meals had softened his scaly hide, and then the even greater move of handing him your species’ alphabet like some great, guarded secret of old had sealed the deal. Cheers all around. It’d only taken you nearly being eaten, disemboweled, and drowned, but you’d made peace with your roommate. What a success story.
And now instead of trying to murder you, he just called you U-G-L-Y.
So, you know, baby steps.
The thin, pointed end of his tail whipped up from where you’d kicked him to twine around your ankle and give a sharp tug that had you sprawling face first into the sand with an oomph. Your great tumble sent all those pretty letters of his scattering in the breeze, and you spat out a mouthful of grit.
“Here’s a new one for you,” you chirped, digging your fingers into the muck. F-U-C-K—Y-O-U.
The Siren yowled, which you’d come to recognize far too well as a prickle along your nape and that forever echoing tug, tug, tug somewhere in your head that could never return the call with its corresponding answer. His tail flailed out again to smack at your hands. It was thick, and scaly, and all smooth, powerful muscle. The fact that he hadn’t crushed your poor fingers into a sad, bony paste by now beneath its wrath was a miracle. If you were a more optimistic person, you’d say he was being extra gentle with you on purpose. But even you weren’t delusional enough to think he liked you that much.
“Okay, okay,” you grouched, spitting out another mouthful of pebbles. “Fine. Just not around the food. Unless you want to have to go hunting for dinner all over again.”
The Siren huffed, rolling his eyes like it was a professional sport, and settled himself prettily back against the butt of his tail like he’d never even tried to beat you to death with his fins at all.
You sighed and pulled yourself back out of the sand, scrubbing it from your salt-sticky skin as best as you were able. You returned to poking at your fish. They weren’t too terribly singed, despite your distraction. And the Siren seemed to like the edges extra crispy either way, so it wasn’t any kind of loss. You were in the middle of balancing your impromptu stick-spatula against another impromptu stick-spoon to try and flip the fish without destroying it entirely when you felt a gentle poke, poke, poke against your arm.
You looked back and the Siren stared down at you, lips canted in a sharp smirk that was all pride.
U-G-L-Y—A-N-D—S-T-U-P-I-D, the sand said.
He’d been struggling with applying the whole -pid noise to the proper lettering, because of how similar it was to -ped. And the spelling had been tripping him up (with much obvious frustration) for the last day or so.
“Well done,” you sighed, not even too terribly upset that it had taken you months in Riddle’s impromptu classrooms to learn what he was picking up over the course of a few, harried sessions delivered with broken bits of sharp sticks and an ever changing canvas. “Try this.”
You scribbled another message in the sand. An insult, naturally, because he seemed to like those. You sounded out the letters as you hopped the tip of your finger over them one-by-one, and the Siren stared down at the inscription with the sort of intense focus meant for ancient tomes or sacred texts. You watched his lips move silently as he sounded it out alongside your mini-lesson, and then he was reaching forward to trace over the letters with the curved tip of a claw—knuckles bumping yours for a moment before shooing your hand away.
You returned to your dinner—finishing up the poor, murdered fish as best as you could and doling it out as usual. You reached out to hand pretty boy his leaf-plate, which he took like a lord accepting a meal from a lowly servant. All upturned noses and pointed disinterest. He set it beside him and nibbled on the offering as he continued to study the new task you’d given him—grand, purple fins splayed out at his sides to brush against your hip like a habit. And this was your life now, apparently. Sitting and frying lazy, shallow water fish over a heated stone while your Siren student studied curse words in the sand. If you managed to survive this, no one would ever believe you.
.
.
The wrecked ship called to you like, well, did you even have to say it.
(It felt like a low hanging pun at this point. You’d never be able to use the expression again for as long as you lived without thinking of narrowed, purple eyes nearly rolling up into the back of a too pretty head because you were apparently that annoying.)
Every day when you ventured towards the western side of the islet to feed your teeny, round octopus friend, you couldn’t help but sit and stare at the shattered hull. It’s not like it was in any sort of shape to actually get you off your little, sandy prison, but it was… There was something about it that was familiar enough to scratch an itch in your brain, but just alien enough that figuring out what was itching was outright impossible.
Silver songbirds.
‘Not safe,’ the Siren had demanded, with an almost frantic look to him. Not safe.
Every time you tried to venture closer to get a better look, it was like he could feel it. And he’d be pacing the shoreline like a blood-frenzied shark—rattling off muted, angry complaints the whole time that popped against your skin like soda fizz. So, lesson learned. Keep away.
It was a particularly sweltering afternoon today. Not a cloud in the bright, blue sky and nary a breeze to be seen. Sweat was beading unpleasantly along your brow and all down your back, and you hated it. At least on the Rose Queen there had been shade. And the lower decks of the ship submerged in the waves had always felt at least a little chilled. You could practically feel the damp, cool wood against your cheek. The smell of salt and pine oils in your nose. But here, on this stupid not-island with its barren trees and nothings, you just had to suffer in silence. The memories of your ship had you thinking of the washed up Songbird all over again, and you were in the middle of a heated, internal debate over making a swim for it again when something cold rained down over your face in small, scattered droplets.
You blinked back into focus to see Mister Merman at your ankles. You’d been sitting with your heels in the water, but no deeper. Because the shallows were still his territory, and while he hadn’t tried to hold you under in a while now, it was hard to forget something like that so easily. You didn’t really want to chance it if a foul mood struck him, no matter what sort of fragile truce seemed to exist between the pair of you lately.
Last you’d looked he’d been sunning himself on one of the wide, flat rocks—as he was wont to do. Lavender-tipped hair splayed out along his cheeks in a pool of soft gold and fins spread at his hips like the finest, plum silks. How he never seemed to burn with that delicate, ivory skin of his you had no idea. Maybe it was a Magical, Mystical, Merman perk yet undocumented. Or maybe he was just Like That. But he’d been snoozing away on his favorite boulder, and now he had rolled in with the tide to lounge by your toes. His fingers were spread, still dripping with sea water from where he’d flicked you in the face. You frowned at him—partly curious, but also pissilly blinking salt out of your eyes that stung, because come on dude.
He flicked more water your way and said something that you couldn’t manage to catch the shape of. When you didn’t respond with anything other than a pointed scrub of the water dripping down your cheeks, he reached out to wrap a clawed hand around your ankle and give a gentle tug.
“What?” you frowned, confused, and he tugged again.
He canted his head towards you, and then out to the cove behind him. He slipped back with the soft, frothy roll of the waves—just a foot or two—and clearly meant to pull you with him. You slid against the sandbar with a yelp and dug your heels into the muck to keep from getting yanked all the way in.
“No way,” you snipped, kicking a mess of water into his face. He didn’t even blink, just frowned down at you with a twisty sort of petulance. “I thought we were over this. If you drown me you won’t get any more cooked food, y’know. And I, in turn, would very much like to not be drowned. Win, win.”
That frown of his went stiff, and his lips twitched down at the corners. His amethyst eyes darted away and for a moment you swore that those gemstone irises flashed with something almost like guilt. He rolled forward with the next curl of surf and pressed a claw into the damp, dark sand at your hip. He scratched out a careful message, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze all the while.
Won’t, it said.
“Forgive me for not believing that,” you returned, dry. “You’re oh-for-two now, I think. And, you know, fool me twice, and all that.” Though maybe the first one didn’t really count, seeing how you were both tangled together and sinking to the bottom in a mutual sort of destruction. But whatever. You were keeping it.
The Siren’s brow pinched in the middle and he reached forward to dig his claws in again.
Accident.
Your own brows jumped nearly to your hairline. You were just about to politely point out that dragging someone to the bottom of the ocean until they were bubbling from the nose and flailing wasn’t really an accident,but then you remembered the startled look on his face. The way he hadn’t stopped you from clawing your way back to the surface and how he’d carefully helped tow you back towards the shore after. And… maybe he hadn’t really meant it. It had to be strange, probably. Being able to thrive so easily below the waves and then be faced with someone who would die if they were left facedown in a puddle.
“…Fine,” you huffed, and his eyes jumped back up to yours with all cat-in-the-cream smugness. “But just because I’m about to drop from heatstroke. Not because you asked.”
The Siren rolled his eyes at you and returned to dragging you by your ankles into the shallows.
The bay really was very lovely. It was crystalline clear and the sort of brilliant blue that you’d never even known existed until you’d left the land for a life on the open ocean. The sand below your feet was soft and white, with barely any pebbles or broken bits of shell to dig into your toes. You watched a few crabs scurry out of the way as you were led deeper and deeper, but most of the cove’s occupants were spoiled and slow. Unbothered by this weird, fleshy, bipedal creature stepping past because they’d never known anything else. Once you hit waist-deep, the Siren let go of you to sink more fully into the water. He swam around you in a languid, looping circle—plum fins cresting the surface to flick water against your arms and scales shining like polished glass in the sunlight. It was still far too shallow for him to move around in earnest with how massive that tail of his was, and how wide and trailing his great, beta-like fins were, but he was still elegant. Still fast and flexible as he swam rings around you like an orbit.
“Show off,” you scoffed, but couldn’t quite bite back the grin twitching at your lips.
Because creature from the deep trying to devour your crew or not, Sirens really were so impressive, weren’t they? Straight out of a storybook, and deserving of every song and tale attributed to them.
You reached out before you could help yourself to run your fingers along his tail. The scales were smooth, and sleek, and cool against your palm. The wispy ends of his fins caught along your fingers, but other than a bit of a tangle, you almost managed to run your hand along the whole of it. And what was it? Eight feet? Ten? Bigger than you at least, that was for sure. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever felt. No fish, or whale hide, or shark. Something entirely of its own.
You realized on the next loop when your fingers danced over a patch of still healing scales that you’d felt already that he had most definitely realized your err in personal space, and was letting you poke about on purpose. You glanced up, embarrassed and warm faced, to see the tail end of a smirk quirking out from the water’s surface. Preening bastard.
You turned up your nose and waded deeper. There was a ripple in the water around you, like a chuckle, and he returned to his looping circles. Occasionally his tail would brush up against you to get you to jump, but otherwise he kept his hands to himself and—as promised—did not attempt to wrestle you down to the sandy floor and your subsequent watery grave.
Once you’d made it up to your chest, the Siren was able to start his dance in earnest. He darted away to make a wide arc around the edge of the cove—sunshine catching on his scales like a glare on the water. He shot from one end to the other, so fast it was nearly dizzying to try and keep up with. And then he was back to circling your ankles all over again—tangling your legs in his fins and curling his talons against your calves to try and drag you deeper.
“Okay, okay,” you laughed, paddling after him until you were well and truly above your head. The bay wasn’t very deep, but there were a few areas that dipped down to at least fifteen feet. So soon enough you were bobbing like a top in the gentle surf as he looped around your idly kicking feet—brushing up along your ankles and tugging at the frayed edge of your shirt with his claws when he passed by.
When he next rose above the surface, you’d already taken in a big mouthful of water in preparation, and shot it right into his face. The Siren’s whole expression shriveled up like a hundred-year-old prune and you laughed so hard he had to curl his tail around your waist to keep you from dipping under the waves and choking yourself. You let him drag you around and only grabbed at his fins a little. He would dive below your feet and you’d sink after him. Not nearly as agile or adept, but competent enough to follow his little game of tag without losing completely within the first few seconds. It was—it was nice. Genuinely. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d swam for the fun of it. Way back when you’d first joined up with Riddle’s crew, maybe. It’d been a hot day, just like this one, and you’d been anchored in a safe, shallow inlet off the coast of an archipelago. Deuce and Ace had jumped in first, already brawling, and you’d dove in soon after. It’d been a mess, and Riddle had nearly hung the three of you up by your toes for it. But it’d been fun. Familial. Warm. Something you’d never forget. And while this moment didn’t feel entirely like that one had, there was something similar about it. Sure, you weren’t trying to give the Siren a bloody nose and there were no rock wars, but it was… well, it was nice.
By the end of it, he was swimming lazy, looping shapes around the cove, and you were being dragged alongside him like a raft—kept afloat by the curling press of his tail and relaxing in the afternoon sunshine with the cool ripples of the ocean water to keep you both comfortable in the heat.
“Do you do this a lot?” you asked, as you relaxed in the gentle lull of the surf. “With your pod, I mean.”
The Siren stiffened beneath you, but after a moment he nodded. Slow and rigid. Which—
Oh. Right.
“…sorry,” you mumbled, gaze darting away.
Because he was missing his family just as much as you were missing yours, wasn’t he?
All that frantic pacing at the start of your mutual stranding had just seemed to… fade away as the days passed. He would still circle the entrance of the cove some mornings, singing towards the skies and tilting his head—fins pricked as he searched for an answer. You’d feel it in your nerves, see the gulls overhead dipping in a trance and watch the crabs crawl up onto the sand like they were being dragged out by their little claws. But most of the time now he just… didn’t. He spent his days mumbling over the letters you showed him, or carefully preening over his healing fins and resting in the sun. Catching fish for you to prepare and roast, and taking his meals at your side as you both snipped at each other with sandy curse words. It was pleasant, this routine you’d fallen into together. But all the same, he never really stopped checking the ocean waters. And you could see a spark in his eyes, an itch. The same one that lit yours, no doubt, every time you caught yourself squinting for the outline of ships on the horizon.
The difference between the two of you, of course, was that in a few more days his scales would be healed enough to face the dangers of the open water alone. Life as a rogue mer was notoriously perilous. The lone Sirens were those that poachers were willing to risk battle with for a trophy. They were the ones caught in fishing nets, and found mauled by rival pods. But your Siren was smart. He was big, and strong, and impressive. He’d find a way to survive it, no doubt. One morning you’d wake up and he’d have darted off into the deep to search for his family. To go home. And you…
You would still be trapped here.
Alone.
Forever.
Rotting under the sun with no one to take you swimming in the afternoons. Or bring you clawed up fish to cook for dinner. Or to use your writing lessons just to insult you with scribbled words in the muck.
Which—that was what you’d wanted, wasn’t it? At the start of all of this.
And it was only fair, in the end. He was the better of the two of you, after all. Born and bred to thrive in the depths of the sea that would swallow you whole without a thought. And if either of you was going to survive, to find your home again, it was always going to be him. Maybe you’d be a story, like he would have been for you. The strange human with no ears, just like the rest of the pirates whispered about. Who taught him that fire could make fish extra tasty and that leaves could make perfectly serviceable plates if you tried hard enough.
You sighed, and bubbles of salt water frothed along your mouth.
The Siren raised his head from his own lazy sprawl to arch a brow at you in question, and you did the very mature thing of spitting water in his face all over again.
You ended up being dragged through the cove in a flurry of spitting, Siren rage. Laughing and laughing until he huffed and hauled you back to shore to keep you from swallowing any more seawater like the idiot that you were. And it was fine, really it was. He wasn’t so bad, not really. And if he was able to reunite with his pod once more after all those days of hollow wailing and pacing, pacing, pacing that had made something deep in your soul itch like a freshly scabbed wound that you just couldn’t stop picking, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad ending after all.
.
.
The next afternoon while you were out on your daily Octopus Wellness Check, you came across a piece of pale, purple sea glass mixed into the rocky shore. It was smooth to the touch and frosted over by the endless tumble of the tide. You held it up to the light and it sparkled just like the Siren’s scales.
“What do you think?” you asked the octopus as it grabbed shredded bits of fish with its chubby, little tentacles. “Do you want it? Or should I give it to—”
You blinked, startled, and realized all at once that you’d never learned the Siren’s name. Or given him yours. You’d just sort of been calling each other a variety of derogatory pseudonyms and hoping for the best. Which, huh. You hadn’t even realized you’d wanted to know his name. It wasn’t yours to take, of course. Let alone from someone who would no doubt be leaving so soon. But it was a thought.
“You always give the best advice, you know,” you told the teeny creature, and it hid from you like you were a great, looming monster of old. “Whether you meant to or not. Thanks for that.”
So on the way back to your cove, you picked through some tufts of beachgrass to find the longest, driest spikes. You began winding them together as you walked, and settled down in your favorite little corner of the inlet to continue your weaving. The Siren, naturally—being as nosy as he was—was immediately hovering over you like a child watching someone hold a bag of sweets just out of reach. You clutched your little project to your chest like a secret, and it had him puffing up in irritation and smacking his fins against your sides like your refusal to share whatever had caught your attention was a crime beyond comparison. He arched up as tall as he could to try and peer over your shoulder, and, in failing at that, just outright tried to snatch the thing from your hands.
“I won’t give it to you if you keep being a pest,” you warned, and immediately he was slipping back to rest on his stomach in the damp sand with a starbright curiosity in his eyes, chin pillowed atop his interlaced fingers and gaze following the movements of your hands like a cat tracking a mouse in its hole. Clearly the promise of it being a treat for him was mollification enough to keep him from hovering.
Once you’d braided a sturdy enough chain, you carefully twined it around the sea glass in a little, crisscrossing cage of fibers. Just knotted enough to keep the ocean-worn trinket safe and in place without hiding the shine of it. With that, you held up your trophy with a dramatic wave, and the Siren was popping up all over again. His amethyst glare tracked the swinging pendant with startling focus and a surprisingly wide-eyed spark of confusion.
“Here,” you said, reaching out to drop the makeshift necklace into his lap. He caught it in his claws, eyes still far too round with shock. “It made me think of your scales. I thought you might like it.”
He was staring down at the gift in utter silence. And not the normal sort of quiet either—where your broken eardrums simply refused to pick up on all his petulant grousing against your person. This was actual silence. His lips were parted like they were caught on a breath, but he wasn’t saying anything. Not even a complaint about how plain and ugly it was. He curled his claws daintily around the woven chain, as if he was afraid of tearing right through it with an accidental prick, and then held the sparkling bauble aloft like he was utterly entranced by the soft gleam of it.
After a long, long moment of that near eerie silence and a pool of dread filling your belly that screamed you’d clearly fucked up in some way (overstepped some weird, Siren tradition. Accidentally insulted his father. Handed him a bad luck omen on a string. Something), the Siren was twisting around to show you the back of his neck. He held up the woven chain so it draped along his shoulder blades, and he pointedly shook the ends at you.
When you just gaped back in shock, he turned to sneer over his shoulder at you and jabbed a claw at his throat, then the necklace, then you, then his throat again. Which, oh. Oh! That—that you could do.
So you reached out to pluck the ends of the grass-woven thread from his talons and he immediately shifted around again to make himself comfortable. Curling his tail firmly against the sand with his plum-lined fins spread out in all their glory like a spill of purple ink along the shoreline. He set his shoulders square and firm, and looked straight ahead with that same, queer sort of focus to him as before.
You tied the ends of the necklace in a bow against his nape, making sure it was securely fastened in place and not snagging any of the softer, shorter hairs at the back of his neck. Once it’d been fussed with to his liking, he turned back around and stared you down until you could feel goosebumps prickling up all along your spine. You wanted to meekly tell him that it was just sea glass. Just a little trinket you’d found in the sand that you’d thought was pretty enough that he might like to have it. But the words died on your tongue. They felt wrong somehow. And you’d put your foot in your mouth plenty of times throughout your life, but this definitely felt like it would have been the biggest boot of all.
“…You like it?” you tried instead, because that sentiment at least seemed less like something that was ready to clog up your throat.
The Siren nodded, firm, his eyes still drilling into yours with that unnerving level of focus.
You coughed into your fist and awkwardly attempted to shift away to give yourself a bit of room, and—Huh. When had his tail come up to wrap around your leg? That made running away a bit inconvenient. You’d just have to try and wriggle your way out and hope he would take mercy on your far inferior musculature, and—
There was a poke at your hip. Tap, tap, tap. One, two, three. And you glanced back up at him with a pinched frown, confused.
The Siren pointed to a scrawl in the sand. Tap, tap, tap.
Acceptable.
You gawked, and then swallowed a laugh so fast it nearly choked you. Because he was still himself, wasn’t he? No matter what. Sassy, asshole fish. Gods, you were going to miss him.
You wiped at the bubbling, giggling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and reached out to pat at his tail in good humor.
“I hope you find your happy ending,” you beamed, and meant it.
The Siren just looked at you with one of his familiar, lemon-sour puckers. He pointedly reached up to flick at the necklace around his throat, like that had anything to do with him finding his family again at all. Like it wasn’t just some silly trinket you’d gifted him in hopes that maybe one day he could look back fondly on the little human that he’d found himself stranded with. To not just forget you outright. To make your fleeting presence in his life something tangible, rather than just a mess of already fading scars and memories that would too easily be swept away in the depths of the sea.
“At least it’s acceptable,” you said finally around your giggling, and he huffed at you in a way that almost looked fond. You stood from the sand and brushed the mess of grit and salt off your pant legs. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner and I’ll teach you some nicer words tonight. So you can give me a real compliment next time.”
There was spray of water all along your back from where he’d no doubt dove back into the shallows behind you and walloped you with his fins to the best of his ability. And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be bothered by it at all.
.
.
[TAG LIST - CLOSED]
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#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#Vil Schoenheit x Reader#Vil x Reader#vil schoenheit#Mermay#Monster Mayhem#My Writing#vil shoenheit#Siren!Vil#Mermaid!Vil#Fantasy AU#Monster Mayhem Vil Part 3
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A/n- I have been hit with inspiration so I'm about to be like a freaking printer with all these posts. Anyway ON WITH THE SHOW
Sam's store
MC: *buying groceries*
Random Octavinelle student: *bumps MC into the display knocking them and the display in front of them over* Oops
MC: *sitting in the floor in shock covered in various substances*...
ROS: Well since you knocked it over you can pay for it right, no need to get involved? *tries to walk away*
MC: *face switches from shock to anger then settles on a smirk* Boy you chose the wrong day. I can do something that can ruin your whole career.
ROS: Oh yeah? And what would that be?
MC: *says nothing for a moment, but looks up with tears * *sniffles*
Deuce: *pops out of nowhere* HOW DARE YOU HURT MC!!
Ace: *also comes out of nowhere* Yeah! Only WE can ruin their day!
Jack: *stands in between MC and ROS silently flexing*
Floyd: *grabs them from behind* Mah mah, I don't think I gave you permission to be near Shrimpy now did I? *Starts squeezing their shoulder*
Jade: *beside Floyd* No, brother, I don't believe you did. *smiling unnervingly*
Vil: *walks over from behind MC, glaring* Potato, this is unacceptable. Rook *snaps and Rook drops from the ceiling tiles* Take the potato and help them clean up.
Rook: Oui, Roi de Poison! *helps MC up*
MC: *smirks from behind the human wall at ROS but goes back to looking pitiful and a bit reluctant* But I need to get groceries, and... I can't pay for the display but... he did push me-
*green lightning cracks outside*
Rook: *pats MC on the head* No problem, I'm sure Monsieur Sam will take care of it! And I believe the others will take care of the... problem *pulls MC away*
ROS: *gulps as the others close in*
*screams were heard across campus that day*
#twst mc#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twst#twst imagines#twst shitpost#disney twisted wonderland#ace trappola#deuce spade#twst x reader#twst rook#rook hunt#vil shoenheit#vil#vil schoenheit#twst jack#jack howl#jade leech#twisted wonderland floyd#twst meme#twst malleus#well alluding to Malleus anyway#fake tears
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The NRC students watched as you interacted with the RSA students.
Were they happy that you had made friends amongst them? No, most of them were not.
Were they surprised? No, they knew you. They know how you attracted others. You were a magnet for danger, but you were also a magnet for people who were affection starved.
So they knew you would attract others, didn’t mean they would like it. But they couldn’t say anything to you, they knew that you would give them a look and tease them not to be jealous.
Not that they would ever admit to that either, but they didn’t want to make you angry, so they bit their tongue for the most part and observed you. You laughed as Che’nya scared Grim.
Riddle had to command his students from starting a scene.
You smiled and hugged Neige as he approached you with the dwarves.
Vil smiled but it didn’t match the coldness in his eyes, but that didn’t stop Rook from fangirling from right next to him.
Were they surprised that you somehow brought two schools together despite their hatred for each other? No matter how one sided? No.
But what surprised them all was the words from the RSA students’ mouths.
“How lucky you are to have YN with you.”
“Cherish them.”
The smile and confident aura surprised the NRC students.
“You never know. Someone might come and take them from you.”
“They might tire from the trouble you cause and join us instead.”
“We would cherish them.”
Was that a challenge?
How interesting.
Let it be known, those from NRC never back down.
And if RSA wants to fight for their Prefect?
They would stand up to that challenge.
This is one battle they would never lose.
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#nrc x reader#rsa x reader#vil shoenheit#rook hunt#riddle rosehearts#neige leblanche#che’nya#twst grim#twst mc#twst reader insert#twst yuu#twisted wonderland x mc#x reader#twst drabble#twst imagines
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Can I ask for Vil, Took or Malleus (any of them, or multiple depending on how cool you are with it) when they find their s/O gives them cute handmade gifts? Baked treats, books, paintings and such. I completely understand if you can't get to this, but if you decide to take this up, It'll be really really cool! Thanks and have a great day!
‧₊˚✧Made with Love✧˚₊‧
↳ Reader S/O who made him handmade gifts
feat: Vil ❋ Rook ❋ Malleus
genre: fluff
note: no pronouns used with the reader, established relationships, nicknames were used for readers (spudling, mon tresor, dear, child of man), probably bad grammar and usage of French because of Rook,
To anyone who were wondering for my sudden MIA status…I got sick, like hella sick. I’m not the greatest at taking care of myself and apparently my body decided to teach me a lesson for that by leaving me down for the count for 2 weeks then giving me migraines if I spend even 20 minutes in front of a screen for another week. To be fair, I could have recovered quicker if I actually…rested and took care of myself but hey, lessons were learned.
I literally started this a month ago but now I need to relearn the characters because my brain can’t remember anything, so I’m sorry if it isn’t the greatest T_T
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
To say he was suspicious was an understatement. Vil was a man of routine and he could tell when something was amiss as the days went by. Little differences were of no cause of concern, but when his little spudling is just acting too skittish, the blond just couldn’t let it go.
At first, Vil was content with scolding you for the little bad habits you started. He caught you too many times hunching your neck and back, and the eyebags forming under your eyes were too concerning to him to ignore.
He had to physically hold in his gasp however, when you refused to come over to his dorm for a skincare date. He tried to be understanding when you claimed you had too much homework to come over, but he could do without Rook having to point out that he was sulking.
Yes Rook, Vil is very aware he could get early wrinkles.
Frustration turned to concern as Vil was quick to pick up that you were hiding something from him. Occasionally, he could see you quickly hiding something from his sight before smiling.
Insecurity soon struck him as alarming thoughts swirled about his mind. Was he the problem? Or is there a problem but he was too undependable to you to confide in?
Not one to beat around the bush, he approached you.
You were surprised that your lover requested to see you so suddenly. But, you thought the handsome blond sounded uncharacteristically solemn so you agreed, which led to you sitting in the lounge of your dorm/home.
Maybe you misread the tone of his voice, because the man before you certainly didn’t seem solemn. Sitting next to you on the sofa, Vil watched you silently with his arms crossed and a leg over another.
“So, Vil…how was your da-”
“I know you’re hiding something from me, spudling.”
From your flinching and awkward avoidance to meet his eyes, Vil’s suspicions were correct. Upon closer inspection, Vil spotted small cuts littered about the skin of your fingers. His lilac eyes softened somewhat, but he kept his voice stern.
“I admire you for working so hard for yourself,” Vil made it clear to you as his eyes gazed towards the small cuts on your fingers, “But, I hope I’m not someone so incompetent that you can’t rely on me, especially when you’re needlessly hurting yourself so.”
In a smooth motion, Vil raised his manicured hand towards your face, gently grazing your cheek to keep your attention to him. “So spudling, no more secrets…what has gotten you so busy and reckless?”
The gig is up, you supposed. Sighing, you asked for your blond beloved to wait as you quickly rushed to your room. Upon your return, there was something in your hands to which you nervously handed over to your upperclassman.
It was a soft ribbon with a charm attached to its end. The deep purple ribbon was embroidered with what seemed to be golden leaves attached to vines twisting and curling across the length of the ribbon. The charm was of a crown, a cheap trinket that was clearly inspired by the Fairest Queen.
“I know how hard you’ve been working for classes so I made you a ribbon bookmark, something you could use while you study or something.” you explained, a little embarrassed. “But I haven’t been getting the pattern right, so I couldn’t give you until I got it perfect.”
Vil has been gifting you so much, from customized skincare products of his creation to matching outfits that enhanced your beautiful form. But it’s not just fancy clothes and luxurious products. Vil worries for you, takes care of you, and helps you to see the potential in yourself and to strive for it.
He gave you so much, so you wanted to give him something in return. Something thoughtful, something that shows how much you cherish Vil. More than for his looks, more than for his fame.
“This didn’t turn out as well as I wanted, but I’m working hard so I can make a new one and get the embroidery just right,” you assured him as you reached for the bookmark. “So, please be patient with me.”
But, Vil kept your gift out of your reach. He examined your handiwork with such focus, taking note of the effort in every stitch. It was by no means the level of professional, but he could see how you thought about him. From the color of the ribbon and thread to resemble his honorable dorm, to the consideration of his dedication to his studies rather than his looks. Your gift told him that you saw not Vil Schoenheit the actor, but Vil your hardworking boyfriend.
Seeing your nervous expression, Vil chuckled as he finally spoke, the cute bookmark firmly in his grasp. “If this is for me, I believe It’s for me to decide if it’s acceptable.”
“I-I guess?”
“Good, because I’ve decided to keep this.” Closing the gap, Vil placed a kiss upon your face, teasingly close to your lips. With a confident smile, Vil took pleasure with your burning cheeks.
“Thank you for the gift, my cute spudling.”
If it wasn’t already clear to everyone, Rook’s primary love language are words of affirmation. You could sneeze and suddenly he has written a sonnet about how beautiful the cringling of your face was.
I’m only slightly exaggerating.
Rook is by no means afraid to show his admiration for anyone, least of all his beloved. All of his words and actions are all done without an expectation of getting something in return.
But lately, you have become a bit of an enigma to him. You would spend hours upon hours with him, smiling and capturing pictures of the two of you. Other times, you would swiftly leave back to your dorm, excusing it as needing to study but you would vehemently decline his offer to help you.
Don’t get him wrong, watching your concentrated gaze is gorgeous, the way your heartbeat steadies and letting out soft but longer exhales as though you’re making decisions secretly in your mind. Rook couldn’t help but wonder, what is it that captures your attention that has you gazing off away from him?
“Rook, can I visit you today?”
Oh my, it has been a while since you last requested such a thing. Partially because you both knew his Housewarden would have a fit if he wasn’t aware. But eventually, Vil gave you special permission, mostly because Rook would have found a way to either sneak you into his room or he might sneak in the middle of night to see you. Vil knew Rook would never have gotten caught but he’d rather let you stay than have the migraine of a vice-housewarden breaking curfew and ruining his beauty sleep.
“Oui, mon trésor. I would request approval from my Housewarden immediately.” Rook could never deny you of anything, especially if he means you could have more time to admire you in the comfort of his room.
When night fell and the two of you were alone, sitting on the hunter’s bed. You were nervously wringing the handles of the bag in your hand. Doubts filled your head as you wondered if the gift was even slightly capable of living up to your boyfriend’s expectations, regardless of how silly that sounded.
You knew that whatever you would give him, Rook would love and appreciate it with full sincerity. But, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous. The gift should be considerate, you thought. Something that shows the love you had for the eccentric blond and his odd… let’s say interests.
You looked to said odd man, who’s piercing green eyes caught your gaze. Rook noticed your nervousness and the mysterious bag but said nothing. Instead, he kindly waited for you as you calmed yourself, soothing you with gentle touches to your knee. The huntsman can be a lot to some, but he’s also patient and so supportive.
Finding your strength, you presented your gift to Rook. Curiously, Rook took what seemed to be a journal from your hands. It was only when he opened the book to see its content was he surprised.
Him. He saw him in a multitude of photographs that decorated the pages of the journal, lined with cute frames and drawings. Some photos were of moments he remembered, such as days where you visited him during his club, cute dates around the town, or simply just moments of serenity between the two of you.
Rook felt his cheeks flush as his eyes caught the little captions written near the photographs, dates and words written in your handwriting.
“My handsome mad scientist” “His dashing profile is so cool” “His warm arms around me ♡”
“I realized the last time I came to your room that you only had photos of other people” you had glimpses of the wall of photos that consist of people he admired the most, you included. “So, I wanted to give you a photo album of what I find beautiful…you.”
Your boyfriend scared you as the young blond suddenly stood up from the bed, eyes sparkling with excitement as he scanned through the pages filled with memories. “Mon tresor, this is absolutely exquisite! To think my beloved has been watching me with such an unwavering, loving gaze fuels a pleasurable delight within me. Oh, très bien!”
But Rook worriedly commented on something notable. “But, there are still pages left unfilled. Were our moments too few and rare to fill the album?”
“It wasn’t that.” you rubbed your hands as you felt the nerves return. “I was hoping that we could fill the last few pages together…like a couple.”
It was then the hunter kneeled before you, his hands reaching out to grasp yours as he looked into your eyes with a special loving gaze only shown to you. You couldn’t tell if you were captured in his devoted gaze or if it was Rook that felt compelled to hold you, to comply with each and every one of your wishes.
“You speak as though I would dare to deny my precious beloved. I’d be honoured to make more memories with you, now and far however long you will have me.”
With constant surveillance from his wards *coughSebekcough*, Malleus’ moments with you were rare but still meaningful. Some nights, Malleus would wander near your dorm, especially when he noticed the lights of your room, signifying you’re there and awake. And like always, you would open your doors for him with a sweet laugh and inviting smile.
But lately, Malleus has seen that your bedroom lights would be dimmed, and that you would take notice of his presence slower than usual. Once or twice would be of no concern to him. But, as it slowly became a habit, he began to worry.
He spoke of his concerns with Lilia, perhaps in the older fae’s experience he came across a similar predicament amongst humans.
Only for the veteran fae to be of no help, instead chuckling in amusement before giving his young dragon a cryptic comment “You will understand soon enough. My, how you are in for a treat~”
Malleus chose not to question further, nor did he question the odd coincidence that you asked him to visit you that very night.
“I don’t suppose there is a hidden agenda to your invitation, dear?” As Malleus made himself comfortable in your guest room, he noticed some changes since his last visit.
Firstly, the furniture were arranged to be more spaced out, although the TV was still quite close. Then, there were almost an absurdly large amount of pillows and blankets, to the point that some have started to pooled onto the floor.
“Hmm, you sound as though I’m being suspicious” you laughed good-naturedly, “But I do have a surprise for tonight.”
Coming from the kitchen, you pulled out a stacked fairly large, cold container. With Malleus’ keen senses, he could pick up a very subtle sweet scent mixed with a chilly sensation, and a familiar delight came to mind.
“Ice-cream?”
You nodded. “Made by yours truly. I asked Lilia if there was a particular flavour you like, but he said you weren’t really picky.”
Unceremoniously, you sat down next to the tall fae before handing him an ice-cream container. “I was trying out different recipes and ideas all week, tweaking it along the way.”
The results of your work appear to be a multitude of flavours with varying degrees of sweetness. From classics such as chocolate and vanilla to more subtle sweet flavours such as coffee and pistachio. Some were swirls of combinations with fruits or nuts, and some were flavours unique to his hometown, which he imagined were hard to procure.
“I may not be able to shower you in riches, or protect you like your knights…” you gave an embarrassed smile and gaze at your silent companion. “But I could at least make you something sweet, just so you could smile even a little.”
Behind your nonchalant smile, you do feel anxiety swirling as you worry your efforts pale in comparison to the luxuries your powerful boyfriend owns. Malleus is a fae of the highest standing and thus, his actions have more impact than the average man or fae.
But…he was your amazing boyfriend nonetheless, who smiled softly back at you.
“Thank you, child of man. Knowing the effort my beloved has done for me alone, I shall cherish this feeling for centuries to come.”
Your cheeks burned slightly over the sincerity, so you quickly diverted the conversation. “W-Well, just giving someone ice-cream would be too boring, so I thought we could spend the night watching bad rom-com movies while we eat. Call it a human custom of sorts.”
“Is it imperative that the movies must be bad?”
You shrugged “Not really, but it usually is.”
Setting the movie up, you returned to the makeshift nest of comfy blankets and pillows with Malleus sitting by you. The confused fae watched as you handed him a tub of handmade ice-cream and a spoon before picking a container for yourself, a strange feeling of intimacy unfamiliar to him…but not an unpleasant one.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#vil schoenheit#vil shoenheit x reader#vil x reader#rook hunt#twst rook x reader#rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader
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Dorm leaders reaction when Mc is sick
Azul would cuddle with you. If he trusted you he would do it in his octopus form. Azul would take care of you. Surely he would have healing herbs. He would not conduct business during this time. YOU would be the most important <3
Leona wouldn't care much… Or of course he would be worried but now you could sleep and cuddle with you all day. He would tell Ruggie to bring you everything you need. Leona would pay for everything. You didn't have to worry about anything.
Idia would be nervous. He wouldn't be sure what to do in this situation. Idia hasn't really taken care of anyone. (Ortho does not get sick) He would probably google how to take care of you and watch anime with you.
Vil He would surely have a magical potion that could heal you. You wouldn't be sick for long with Vil. If he didn't have a potion he would surely make one. He wouldn't spend so much time with you. Vil wouldn't want to get sick himself. But that didn't mean he didn't care.
Malleus would be super worried. You could hear thunder outside. Malleus would be taking care of you all the time. He might not have the experience. But luckily, Lilia would be there to help. With the help of Malleus Taija, you would also be able to sleep for sure.
Kalim would be super worried. He would try to help you and make you feel better. But Kalim wouldn't really be that good at it. He would get more mess time. Well, at least Kalim would cheer you up mentally.
Riddle would like to become a doctor so he would have prepared. Riddle would try his best to take care of you. But it would be difficult because Ace and the other dorm residents would sometimes be chaos. Riddle would try not to scream but it would be difficult.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst x you#twisted wonderland x you#Malleus Draconia#malleus draconia x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingsholar x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#azul ashengrotto#Azul Ashengrotto x reader#twst imagines#twst headcanons
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I feel like Vil would be LIVID if he found out you were friends with Neige, hell he’d be even more pissed if he found out you’ve been friends with him for a while!!!
Let’s say Crowley gave you the week off because god damn do you need a break. And you went walking in the forest for some much needed silence and you time.
And while walking, you bump into someone. And it’s the whole cliche thing where you bump into them and you fall on top of them and your lips are nearly touching andddd-
YEAH!!! You both scramble up and your faces are brightttt red!!
You don’t recognize him, you’ve never seen him before.
But, he knows who you are.
He’s seen you in papers and the news and heard your name all throughout RSA.
You’re the person who has stopped all the overblots and fights and drama.
You’re a hero!!!
He immediately introduces himself, shaking your hand gently. Not before apologizing of course for, ya know, almost KISSING you.
And as soon as you smile, it’s love at first sight.
I hardcore believe that Neige believes in soulmates and love at first sight, and he thinks you’re the one for him.
And that’s where your friendship starts!! You guys keep in contact and hangout on rare occasions you two are free.
And absolutely no one except a couple RSA students know because imagine how much havoc that would cause??
It’s a wonder how he hasn’t posted any of the millions of pictures he’s taken of you (he’ll post them after the VDC).
Anyways the VDC comes up and that’s when you really get close with Vil. And you learn how much he HATESSSS Neige.
So, now you’ve gotta keep your friendship with Neige quiet.
Though that’s pretty hard when he delivers baked goods and flowers to your house every so often.
And when everyone’s wondering who “Prince Charming” is in your phone after Rook peeked over your shoulder one day.
We get to the day of the VDC and you’re backstage trying to calm everyone down and hopefully settle their nerves and BOOM!!
You get tackled to the ground by all the dwarves.
They’re all happy to see you, after all it’s been so long since you’ve hung out with them!!
And then here comes Neige.
Vil is FUMING.
All the dwarves get off you and Neige hugs you tightly, sitting you down immediately and playing with your soft hair.
He tells you how much he missed you and how pretty you look and how excited he is to see your group perform.
And it’s insanely clear to everyone that he’s in love with you, but whateverrrrr!!!
And his flirting continues until he has to go up and perform.
That’s when Vil confronts you and pretty much screams about how you could do so much better and that you never told him you were soooo close with the enemy.
And that’s what causes him to overblot instead of the whole almost poisoning Neige and Rook stopping him thingy.
Because he’s so upset that you are friends with Neige, and you are so close with Neige, and Neige clearly thinks you’re the love of his life.
And everything gets too much and he just, explodes.
#disney twst#twst mc#twst wonderland#twst vil#twst x reader#twst#twst imagines#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland vil#vil shoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#twisted wonderland neige#neige leblanche#neige#twst neige#neige x reader
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"He Cheated On Me"
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
♡ Characters: Leona, Vil, Malleus, Lilia.
| Relation: Besties <3 (or more? ;). . . )
♡ Dictionary: Takes place in the current chapter (7).
| Warnings: Mentions and Spoilers of Chapter 7 in Lilia and Malleus. Also Malleus lowkey being a Yandere . . .
♡ Content: Reaction/Bulleted Hc's.
Leona-
He probably thinks your ex-boyfriend has a mental illness or something.
Why would that guy cheat on you? It's not like he didn't see it coming or anything. He probably saw the signs before you.
That doesn't mean he'll let this whole situation slide though.
Infact, Leona promises to make his life from now hell to the guys' grave. Whether you like it or not... I like to say that he does revenge himself- but of course not because he's lazy.
Leona just makes Ruggie torments this guys whole life; mentally, physical... etc. And would never admit who was actually behind all those things if you ask him.
Vil-
Thinks your joking.
Th-There is no way you let a man walk over you like that... ohoho- no honey.
Vil is... mad, MAD. Even though he doesn't show it, he is fumming from inside <3...
I wouldn't even be surprised if Vil blames the fact that you have 'no taste in guys', or says that you should've let him run a 'background check on him first'.
I pray for this guy because it is going to be hell if it turns out that your ex is from the same dorm as him. Like when he sees him, he does a full out RANT on why he is trash, and shouldn't do this type of stuff again... except he won't be so nice to him.
Malleus-
Thunder, hurricanes, and lilia starts cooking- just chaos is opened.
When you tell him this at first, he has to make sure that he doesn't full on out just start burning objects the closest to him.
Lilia also has to stay with him 24/7 to keep him away from making any extreme situations... like I'm not joking. He literally has to HOLD HIM back.
Okay but... Imagine if this took place in Chapter 7... another reason for Malleus overblot.
I could see you just coming towards him (like in the first episode when MC was running late) and suddenly in the morning, you spill the beans that your ex was cheating on you. OR- it could be when Silver was looking (and yelling) for Malleus, when secretly you where having a secret conversation with Malleus about your ex cheating on you.
And then Malleus would probably poison that guy (and succeeding), and then continue to have an Overblot <3.
Lilia-
Angry old man.
Like Vil, he for sure doesn't show it. But he's FUMMING inside.
Lilia also probably also asks you too move with him too. (But this is not a yandere hc so I'll just save that for future thought...)
He genuinely feels bad, because he probably has that happen to him- if not multiple times.
Instead of revenge he is just focused on comforting you, hugs, random stories, and such.
Lilia also tried to make you food, but since that is a death sentence itself- Silver "politely" forced him out of the kitchen. (That being Silver pushing Lilia out of there.) As much as Lilia wanted to make you food- he didn't want to cause an issue so he just dropped the idea.
#twst imagines#twst x reader#twst fanfic#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#malleus draconia x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit headcanons#vil schoenheit imagines#vil schoenheit x reader#malleus draconia headcanons#malleus draconia imagine#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge headcanons#lilia vanrouge imagines#leona kingscholar x reader
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons
Characters: Everyone :)
Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case.
Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.
There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.
Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.
Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.
It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.
Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.
And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.
It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.
The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.
Or so he told himself.
While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.
The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.
And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...
Reliant. Whipped.
He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...
You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.
He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.
That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.
When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.
"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.
You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.
"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"
{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}
Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.
There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.
At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.
Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.
If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.
There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.
Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.
He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.
No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.
One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.
"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows.
Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission.
"Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"
{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}
He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.
Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.
As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.
He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.
Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.
Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.
Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.
Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.
Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.
Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.
To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.
A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...
On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.
The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.
"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red.
"It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness"
'Well clearly it's something'
"I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me,"
'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?'
"Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!"
In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring.
"...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you.
"I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"
{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}
NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#twst proposal series#proposal series#pomefiore#vil shoenheit x reader#twisted wonderland vil#malleus draconia#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#rook hunt#rook x reader#epel felmeir#twst epel#epel felmier x reader#epel felmier#this took...SO LONG OH MY GOD
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To Be a Songbird: Part Two
Summary: Arranged marriages are wonderful when they work and disastrous when they don’t. The funny part? You never thought that you’d be in this situation. You had always wanted to marry your betrothed and now you’re single. What a joy.
Vil x Reader x Leona
Part One ,Part Two(Here!),Part Three
Part Two! Sorry this took a second everyone, I hope you enjoy it! Let me know if you have any ideas for the final pairing
Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Insecure Thoughts (Reader), Political Drama, Relationship Breakup, Implied One Sided Affection
You never expected freedom to feel this empty and bitter. Were you questioning your position in Vil’s life? No, the limbo you were stuck in for so long is gone and it’s better that way. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less that Vil is no longer in your life and your heart aches.
It puts you in a worse mood, then, when you get letter after letter asking to start courtship. Marriage has always been something abstract to you, especially now since you won’t be marrying Vil. To marry anyone else seems weird, even if there’s nothing wrong with it. You still want to grieve and come to terms with your feelings before thinking of someone else.
You know that it’s not common for the upper class to marry for love and love isn’t guaranteed. But you’d at least like to marry someone you got along with, who could laugh with you and share good moments. Like Vil. At least before.
All of this is to say that you’re torn between being annoyed and flattered with Leona Kingscholar. He looks calm as can be on the other side of the table, eyes closed and tail swaying. You glance down at the parchment and only need to read the first few sentences to realize it’s a courting contract. It’s been six months since the public announcement and you’re healing, slowly. More than anything, you’re confused.
“I’m surprised.” You admit, pulling the papers closer. You make no move to sign and Leona doesn’t react besides half opening an eye.
“About what part?” He doesn’t sound truly interested but since he asked you figure you might as well answer.
“You asking to court me. Or anyone for that matter. And that you waited.” He snorts at your last comment, closing his eye again.
“You wouldn’t have said yes.”
“And I will now?” You try to keep the irritation out of your voice but Leona hears it and smirks.
“You’re going to consider it. And I can guarantee it’s better than some of the other offers you’ve been getting.” You half tune him out, reading over the contract. He’s not wrong, as irritating as it is. Most of the requests for marriage have been blatant grabs for power or insulting. Some were contingent upon you being officially declared the heir to the kingdom and some had you giving all power away.
Leona’s proposal was different. It said the two of you would enter equal courtship terms and decide other details in the future. If you agreed, you would favor treaties with Savana Sunset but there were no guarantees and nothing about claims to the throne. You read it a few times, each time slowing down as you went.
“It’s a political downgrade.” You offered, looking up again. His eyes were still closed and he sounded bored when he spoke. You saw his hands tense, however, and knew that he was paying attention. “I’m not the heir and our kingdom is mostly in name only.”
“I’m a prince who’s never going to get the throne, it doesn’t matter who I marry.” You hum at his answer, leaning your head into your palm.
“And yet you want to court me, without the King’s permission I might add.” That comment got Leona to open his eyes and scoff, lips curling up. He leaned closer to you across the table and it was the first time you’d seen him this emotional.
“I can decide my own fate. They don’t need me here and our countries don’t have strong relations. Besides, you’re trying to secure a treaty with Briar Valley, aren’t you?” You tense at his comment but Leona keeps going, smirking as he saw he caught you. “The Savana and the Valley are in good standing and an alliance with me pretty much guarantees an alliance with them.”
“And how do you know about my alliance building?” You were honestly curious; no one tended to pay attention to a rouge almost-but-not-quite heir.
“You’re subtle but not subtle enough.” Leona didn’t offer anything more before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. “Take it or leave it, doesn’t matter to me. Not my life to figure out.”
You resist the urge to pinch him and look at the documents again. You don’t need to start courting. There was no pressure form your parents; they were happy to let you and your brother do whatever as long as it helped the kingdom. You’re still healing from Vil and don’t think you could love Leona, not really. You don’t need help with your treaty wit Briar Valley, all you need is more time. And yet…
Leona is the first one to ask to be your partner on equal terms. He’s the first to pay enough attention to know what your plans are. He’s trapped, a part of you realizes, here in Savana Sunset. He’s the second prince to a country with another heir. He has magic that people have no use for and your heart pings in understanding. You ignore the quiet part that will enjoy seeing Vil’s reaction.
“I can’t offer you love.” You take a deep breathe before speaking, closing your eyes as you think things over. When you open them, emerald green is staring back at you, bright and sharp. “I loved Vil and part of me always will, I think. I can offer companionship and partnership but I don’t know about love.” He watches you for a long moment, eyes taking in your face before he throws his head back and laughs. It’s a wonderful sound and you’re struck by the beauty of it.
“I’m not looking for love.” Leona smirks at you. “This is political for me, nothing more and nothing less.” You smile just a little, shaking your head.
“Don’t think you’ll get fond of me?” Your teasing is met with a scoff and he closes his eyes, body relaxed.
“A herbivore like you? Fat chance.” You chuckle at his words, taking the pen in the middle of the table and signing your name.
“We’ll see about that one Kingscholar.”
♥
In all your years of visiting Sunset Savana, this is the first time you’ve seen King Falena angry. His tail is lashing around him and even though he’s keeping his tone even, you can tell that he wants to yell. Leona doesn’t care at all, leaning against the wall and watching his brother pace. There’s a hint of satisfaction and you don’t know if it’s from pissing his brother off or pulling a fast one on him.
“This is ridiculous.” Falena is trying to stay kind and you appreciate he’s aware you’re still in the room. His wife and son watch from the other side of the room, letting the two brothers talk it out. “Leona, you know that you need to talk things like this over with me.”
“I don’t need your permission to get married, as long as the marriage benefits the kingdom.” Leona sounds bored but Falena isn’t falling for it, shaking his head.
“How do you think this is going to benefit the kingdom?” The question is harsh and he winces, turning to you. You take your head, giving a half smile.
“I told him when he handed the paperwork over that it was a political downgrade.” The king looks a little relieved by your words but Leona doesn’t give him to chance to respond.
“You’re not seeing the bigger picture.” Falena scowls but Leona keeps going. “The Land of Lights has treaties with countries and kingdoms we’ve been trying to contact for years. The Coral Sea trades with them on better terms than we ever will.”
Leona’s words make sense and you silently agree. While most places now weren’t on unfamiliar terms, there were still lingering tension. The Sunset Savana is one of the oldest kingdoms, for better or worse. It’s been doing it’s best to modernize but still behind in the times. You can hear your bother complaining in your mind and ignore it. Falena looked like he swallowed a lemon, taking a moment to collect himself before speaking.
“You’re right.” Leona looked surprised at his brother’s response, eyebrows going up. There was a moment of silence before Falena started speaking again. “From a trade perspective this could be beneficial but the way things are written, you could lose everything.”
“I can’t claim the throne here.” Leona’s tone is cold but you could see the flash of pain in his eyes. “There’s no guarantee that they’ll claim the Throne of Lights but our treaties will still be in place.” Leona’s lips pull back into a sneer and you wince; this wasn’t going to be pretty. “Besides, I’m not wanted here. What better place to banish me than the other side of the world?”
“That’s not-!” Falena began to boom but is cut off by his son. You watch as the little cub throws himself at his uncle’s legs, looking up with wide eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave Uncle!” He’s on the verge of tears and the royal couple both frowns. You watch quietly in the corner, your heart throbbing. Your brother often felt the same way as Leona, though he wasn’t as vocal about it.
You were surprised when Leona got down on his knees in front of his nephew. His face was a little softer and he waited a moment before gently flicking Cheka in the forehead. The tears disappeared and Cheka pouted, holding his head.
“I’m not going to disappear forever ya little brat. Just go visit sometimes. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Cheka smiled at his uncle’s words, throwing his arms around Leona’s neck. The older lion held him without a word and you watched as the royal couple shared another look.
“There are still a lot of things that need to be figured out before your uncle can come visit.” You chime in and everyone turns to look at you. “Paperwork, courting rules, things like that.”
“Rules?” Leona asks, lips curling into a frown and you laugh. He wasn’t escaping so easily.
“Traditions, rules, courtship practices. I’m assuming that Sunset Savana has their own?” Falena brightened up as you spoke while Leona got sourer. You kept your face neutral, focusing on Cheka who was staring at you. “That way your uncle and I can get to know each other and figure out if we’re a good match.”
“It doesn’t need to be that serious herbivore.” You shot Leona a serious look, surprising the lion out of his grumbling.
“It is that serious. This might be a political arrangement but it’s still our lives. I won’t go through with something if we aren’t a good fit, at least on some level.” He scowls at your words and rolls his eyes but stays silent. Falena looks relieved and gives a nod, turning to look at Leona.
“I will send a letter to the Queen of Light and let her know your intensions. Everything has been signed but it’s still protocol.” The King began to walk around his office, talking to his wife and scooping Cheka up. The three of them were soon in their own world and you felt like an outsider looking in. Leona slid up next to you, lip curled up a little.
“You made this more complicated than it has to be.” He muttered into your ear and you held still, resisting the urge to shudder. You gave a small shrug, smiling a little as Falena threw Cheka into the air.
“Maybe. This doesn’t give anyone an excuse to protest though and I’d like things to be as smooth as possible.” A deep hum sounded in your ear and Leona chuckled.
“Still think that stuck up brat cares?” His tone was mocking and your heart screamed out in offense. You didn’t take the bait, letting the prince get his last licks in.
“Vil’s opinion doesn’t matter here. What matters is that the Shaftlands feel everything has been by the book and can’t reject the arrangement. Our countries alliance is strong but I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Except break off a decades long engagement.” You can’t tell if Leona is teasing or not but you snort. He takes in the bitter look on your face and filed it away to look into later.
“The only thing that did was upset me. Everyone else knew it was over a long time ago.” He didn’t say anything to your comment, the two of you lost in thought. Cheka happily brought you back to reality, tugging on your pants and asking a million questions. You laughed and agreed to go play, leaving Falena and Leona alone. You would be heading back in a few days and you wanted to enjoy your freedom before facing the music back home.
Leona watched you go and wondered if this really was the best idea. It made him more politically free than he’d ever been but at what cost? All he needed to do now was guarantee you’d secure the throne from your brother. Ruggie could help with that. He sighed, leaving the office to go find a place to nap; this was going to turn into a huge pain, he just knew it.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland imagine#twst imagines#vil shoenheit x reader#vil shoenheit#vil shoenheit imagine#leona kingsholar x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingsholar imagine#vil x reader x leona#twst x reader#twst#twst vil#twst leona#twst au#royalty au
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All Mine
Genre: fluff
Characters: dorm leaders (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus) x gn!reader
Scenario: what makes your boyfriend jealous and what he does about it <3
Notes: none!
Riddle Rosehearts ; when you're having fun with someone else.
Even as your boyfriend, Riddle can’t do things with you that would go against the dorm rules or hurt his image—which you totally understand. But when he sees you laughing with someone else, doing things he can't partake in... it makes him really jealous.
Eventually, once it gets to him, he really won't want you hanging out with those people anymore.
He knows they probably aren’t being bad influences, but he will act like they are. He'll give them unimpressed stares when you're not looking, and if they're in his dorm he’ll use his unique magic against them to keep them away from you.
When you two are in private, he'll try let loose more. It’ll feel unnatural for him, but he wants to have fun with you, too. He’s afraid you’ll get bored of him.
If you play along for his sake and try to bring him out of his shell, he'll appreciate it. He might even be honest about his feelings once he’s comfortable telling you the truth.
But if you tell him that he doesn’t need to change for you, he'll get really shy. He'll deny feeling jealous, but reassurance of your love would mean a lot to him in the moment.
Ultimately, he just wants to be the one making you smile the most.
“As long as you’re sure you’re happy… Yes, I love you too.”
Leona Kingscholar ; when he sees others trying to take care of you.
Leona is a gentleman. Maybe everyone else has trouble believing so, but he's incredibly attentive once you're together. He escorts you places, buys you things you need, and comforts you when need be.
But if he happens to see someone else trying to do any of that for you, he will not be happy. He sees it as disrespectful, like they're trying to tell him he isn't doing a good enough job. To make it worse, you’re too kind to refuse these gestures from others, which sets his jealousy off.
With his temper, you will know immediately. Leona doesn't like to play games. He will tell you what’s bothering him and ask why you’re entertaining that behavior when he's right there. If you can’t give him an answer, he’ll stick himself to you like glue and won’t let anyone else near you for the day.
Assigns Ruggie to the very important task of keeping tabs on you afterward. Gives him specific instructions to monitor your conversations; if you’re talking to anyone for too long or if they try to do something for you, Ruggie is to interrupt and say you’ve been summoned by Leona.
Mandatory cuddles and telling him you love him is your punishment. He hates feeling jealous.
"You know what you signed up for with me. Now, come here. You’re mine."
Azul Ashengrotto ; when he becomes aware of the options you have.
Seeing how popular you are among the student body makes Azul particularly jealous.
You’re friends with so many others within the walls of Night Raven College; dozens of boys with promising futures make up your circle, including several princes, and all are just one call away from coming to your aid should you ask. So it’s a bit hard for him to not feel jealous when they don't seem to back off even after you announce your relationship.
He’ll wait it out at first, but if they don’t leave you alone he’ll be really ticked off. However, Azul is aware that he isn’t particularly intimidating and can’t fight.
So what does he do? He shows you off instead, to prove to them that you're his.
If he wasn't using Magicam before, now he's posting you every day. He's posting pictures of you with new jewelry he's bought you and images of you cuddled up to him at night, even linking sweet love songs to them.
When he checks his views and finds the individuals that triggered his jealousy, his satisfaction in through the roof. Don’t question his smirk.
If, for some reason, flaunting you on social media isn’t enough, then Azul might have Floyd give your friends a scare. Nothing serious, just enough to make them delete your number and change their routes to class to avoid you. You wont even notice since Azul is now escorting you to class on his arm.
"Do you not want me to show you off? I don't see a problem with reminding everyone who you chose."
Kalim Al-Asim ; when you might be taken away.
Kalim trusts you so much, so he just doesn’t get jealous. Your relationship is so healthy and communication between you is great.
The only time he'd maybe feel jealousy would be if someone planted the idea in his head. Like if Jamil makes a joke about you and someone you're with looking quite close, Kalim might start questioning the situation.
However, he'd be more concerned for your safety than jealous. He'd approach you and drag you away in a rush with an innocent excuse to the other individual. After all, if they're trying to charm you while knowing you’re in a relationship, they have to be bad news.
He'd talk to you about it immediately, though, before any of his thoughts spiral and before you can think he’s overreacting.
Would go heavier on the PDA to remind you he trusts and cares for you. To some extent, he might be thinking he can gross that person out this way so they’ll get the hint and give it up.
Kalim is just too sweet of a guy to feel jealous honestly. There’s not much else to say. He’ll make you feel so safe.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay! I think we should steer clear of them for now, yeah?"
Vil Schoenheit ; when you don't see what he sees.
Vil gets annoyed easily, definitely. But it would either take something truly concerning or the involvement of someone he deems a threat to make him feel jealousy.
He often acts like he knows what's best for you, so he tells you to stay away from certain classmates. Especially the ones that he sees being a bit too kind to you.
If you dismiss Vil’s concerns and the individuals get bolder with you to spite him, he’ll be pissed. Honestly, if he didn’t have contractual obligations and a reputation to maintain, he might resort to threats.
If it goes on for long enough, he’ll start feeling jealous.
The result is a super petty Vil.
If you want to spend time with him, he'll redirect you to one of those friends. He'll ask you why you want his attention now, when you clearly preferred theirs yesterday.
Though it’s hard for him to turn you away when all he wants is to hug and kiss you, his mind turns it into a silly game to find out if you love him most of all. This keeps him in a cycle of pettiness and insecurity.
Still, he doesn't want to neglect you. He wants you to see his perspective, so once he’s had enough of going without you, he’ll explain why he feels his worries are justified.
Once you exchange apologies, he’ll return all the love he withheld.
"Now do you understand? I'm only trying to protect you from ill intentions."
Idia Shroud ; when he can't be the one that's with you.
Get jealous very often, but keeps it to himself.
Idia knows you have to hang out with others a lot because of his boundaries. He doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to go out, so you ask your other friends for company to avoid pressuring him.
Still, it doesn’t make him feel great that there is always someone jumping at the chance to be with you.
When he gets notifs that you posted to Magicam only to see you looking happy with someone else, his jealousy escalates quickly.
Unfortunately, Idia isn't very good at communication especially when it comes to his feelings. So he will give you space instead, and let you enjoy yourself to prevent ruining your day with his doubts.
He will continue lurking your profiles for the next few days, but he won't like anything or reply to your messages. He'll self-isolate until you come to him, whether it be hours or days later.
When you do come see him in person to ask what’s wrong, you'll be stuck with him a while. He won’t admit to feeling jealous, but it’ll be clear from his questions that he wants to be sure you still want to be with him.
Lots of quality time will fix his mood. He might prefer the quiet of his room to the noisy outside world, but he makes it very clear that you’re always welcome to disturb him. He’d much prefer that to seeing you with other people.
"We can go somewhere together soon, so don't ask anyone else anymore! B-but for now, could you spend the night?"
Malleus Draconia ; when you give away your time with him.
Malleus loves to have alone time with you. He's very grateful that you always reserve time in your day just for him.
But on the occasion that someone seeks to interrupt this time, and you don't turn them away or happen to cancel on Mal entirely for them, that’s when he’d get jealous.
He'd dismiss himself from the situation to let you take care of your business, but he would actually just be hiding nearby and listening.
If the person seems to be taking up your time for reasons that Malleus himself finds unworthy, he won't hesitate to use a bit of magic to make that person suddenly leave you alone, as if possessed.
He’ll return to you pouty and distracted. He’ll initiate lots of physical touch, and might even suggest going to his dorm room while he milks all your affection.
He doesn’t hide feelings of jealousy because he’s learned your instinct is to coddle him when he makes it obvious. Your giggles and half-hearted apologies in response to his melodramatic words of worry make him fall deeper in love.
When he’s jealous, Malleus doesn’t care for words of reassurance as much as he does actions. He is quite secure in your relationship, but he will never get tired of seeing how comfortable you are with him. He loves knowing that you won’t ever run away.
"Now that they're out of the way, I do wish you'd learn to say no. I am quite selfish when it comes to my time with you."
a/n: Okay so I tried to get Riddle's Halloween card but I could NOT get any SSR until freaking pity. Then that last key set gave me both Jack and Ruggie's Dorm Uniform SSRs instead of Riddle 😭 I thought, "Wow, Leona really sent his underclassmen after me?" And that gave me the idea for jealousy hcs…
Hope u all enjoy, holiday prompts will probably be coming soon! kisses <3
#twst wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst fluff#twst headcanons#twst x reader#twst imagines#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 1.5]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: There is a little, annoying human trapped in this bay with him. And he's going to eat them. (Vil's POV)
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3]
There was a little, raggedy human staring up at him from the sand, and Vil had never felt so miserably persecuted in all his years.
The thing had been bound to him in a mess of ropes and frantic, bipedal flailing, and he’d honestly thought that it had drowned. Hoped that it had drowned. But no, apparently he couldn’t be quite so lucky. None of his pod’s raids had ever gone so terribly, and normally he was better able to keep his head about him. But it had been Epel’s first attempt at sneaking on board one of the grand, creaking, human vessels, and maybe he’d been a touch concerned about it. Like a fretting parent sending their guppy off to the deep for their first solo-swim. And perhaps he’d struck a bit too quick and sharp when he saw things headed South. Not taking the normal care he would to assess for traps, or weapons, or stupid humans and their equally stupid, fraying ropes.
But none of that mattered. It was hardly a crime to want to protect your family. It had happened, that was the end of it. There was no changing things. And now he was here. In this cove. With that thing.
You pedaled backward in the sand like those two legs of yours hardly worked at all, and even though it looked like you were retreating (rightfully so, at least you were smart enough to realize this was a lost battle), Vil still bared his teeth in a challenge. Because he was angry, and sore, and at the moment you were the cause of every, single one of his problems in the world. He tossed his tail in the surf, splattering stinging bits of ice water into your face.
“Stop! Stop!” you squawked, wheeling away like he was dousing you in acid rain rather than a bit of pissy water warfare. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”
“Of course you weren’t,” he spat. “From the looks of you, you don’t plan much of anything at all.”
You didn’t respond to his scathing insult, only kept scooting yourself back against the sand on legs that still apparently refused to work. Or maybe you’d simply forgotten about them. You seemed like you could be the type.
He ground his talons into the damp sand at his hips and felt the ridges of the fins along his spine prickling tight and painful, trying to puff out in a predatory display that they simply couldn’t because he was still bound in the godforsaken rope.
“I don’t know what your little plan was,” he hissed, “but you’ve done both of us a disservice. And while I’m sure you’re used to disappointment, I am not going to tolerate this.”
More silence. You looked—not confused, per se. But definitely not particularly keen on following his very justified rant against your person. Your gaze kept darting from his vicious glare, to his claws digging up the shoreline, and then to his lips. He could see your own mouth moving a bit alongside his, like you were trying to echo the shape of the insults flying off his tongue.
“Listen here, you fleshy rat,” he snapped, jabbing a black talon in your direction. “You’re going to tell me the course that your ridiculous ship had set so that I can return to my pod at once. Do you understand? And if you’re lucky, I won’t crawl my way up there to bite off your fingers one by one. How’s that sound?”
You blinked back at him with no comprehension, like his marvelous depiction of having your bones gnawed on for snacks just wasn’t a vivid enough picture.
The rage in his chest bubbled bright and hot, and the age-old magics in his veins zipped through his blood like a stroke of lightening.
Insolent brat.
Fine. He’d make you listen then.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you said, and oh, you were a nuisance. He was going to rip your nerves out from the depths of your useless, human limbs. Feast on your bones until the marrow had been picked clean and leave the scraps for the gulls—
He parted his lips and sang loud and sharp—letting that familiar lull roll off his tongue like the sweetest poison. His Call had always been the strongest in his pod, after all. That’s why it was his job to keep them safe, to ensure that no one was lost in a hunt that was meant to be so simple just because they couldn’t keep their purple-headed curiosity under wraps long enough to not to be caught—
Vil turned his sneer back your way, fully prepared to see you kowtowed before him with your nose buried in the sand. And—
You were just sitting there. Butt in the muck and just as wide-eyed and brainless as before. Staring back at him with a startled sort of expression on your face and nothing else. Normally there was a sort of tether between him and his victims. A call, an answer. Simple principles. And while he could never see the tangible net of his influence tightening around their brains, he could always sense it. Or at least something like it. But this time, there was just… nothing.
Vil snarled, swallowing around the spiky pinch of something in his gut that he refused to call panic, and canted his head back to sing louder.
The shallow dregs of the cove rippled at his hips with the force of it, and he could feel the swell of his influence curling out further and further. Digging its claws into anything and everything it could reach. He could feel one tether spooling out and grabbing after the other, feel the familiar pull of subservience from the very sea itself. And—
“I can’t hear you!”
Oh, you mocking piece of—
He widened his mouth until his jaw was creaking and his tongue was going numb from the sharp bursts of arcana snapping from throat.
“It’s not a challenge!” you wailed, hands cupped over your mouth to try and shout over his howling song. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”
His mouth fell closed all at once, the Call cutting off so abruptly that the returning wave of snapping magics almost made his head spin. The power of it hung along his nerves like the zipping prickle of electric eels, and the water at his hips churned and bubbled.
“There,” you huffed, like someone who’d just been horribly inconvenienced by a gust of wind ruining their hair, rather than a human bearing the full weight of a siren’s fury. Brushing off some of the most powerful magics in the ocean like it was nothing worse than a bit of sand in your trousers. It was… unnerving. And it had something uneasy curdling in Vil’s stomach.
He dug his claws into the sand, fins flaring along his sides in a defensive display before he could help himself. Your eyes tracked the way the muck gave way beneath his talons and he watched your throat bob. Good. You should be afraid of him. Because he refused to be afraid of a human like you. No matter how the hair at his nape prickled or the fins at his ears pinned against the sides of his head.
“Well…” you said after a long moment, awkward and stiff. “I should get going, I suppose.”
And then you were stumbling your way to your feet to venture deeper into the crags of the small island. Vil smacked his tail against the surf, loud and sharp. A plaintive ‘good, begone,’ if ever there was one. But you didn’t even flinch, let alone turn around to witness his grand ‘fuck you.’ He wasn’t sure why he was expecting you to.
He watched you crawl your way up a mess of boulders and old shells, eyes narrowed and that same, unpleasant prickle running through his nerves. Once you were well and truly out of sight, he returned to his fins and started doing all he could to assess the damage. The sooner he could deal with this setback and set out into the depths of the ocean, the sooner he could return to his pod. And the sooner he’d be away from you, and all your strange, human ways.
.
.
You returned maybe an hour later, only a few minutes after he’d given up on trying to pick the horrid mess of twine from the wounds along his tail. His claws weren’t made for such delicate work, and the poisoned tips of them weren’t doing his shredded fins any favors.
He turned on you with a snarl that would have sent any other sentient creature scurrying for cover, fins pinned and canines on full display. But apparently you had less self-preservation than even the brainless, teeny, rock crabs burrowing hurriedly into the sand.
“Hello,” you said. Like that was any way appropriate.
“Get lost,” he snarled.
You nodded back, simple and sage, and then pointed to the mess of your ropes twined along his fins.
“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”
Vil sneered and surged forward to scrape his claws through the muck again, hoping his demonstration of what he would do to your face if you stepped near him was clear enough to get through your head.
“Touch me and you’ll be lucky if all I do is eat you.”
You blinked back, and he watched the way your eyes jumped across his expression. Trailed to his mouth, his brow, his teeth. Reading whatever you could see there. And then you shrugged again, unbothered by his spitting threats as before.
“Alright. Your loss, I suppose.”
There was a keenness to your gaze though, a sharp, pointed consideration that had his hackles rising all over again.
“If you think that you can be rid of me that easily, you’re solely mistaken,” he spat, smacking his fins into the shallows until the water was churning wild and angry. “This is all your fault, and whatever ridiculous plot you’re considering, I’ll gladly return it tenfold.”
Your face pinched like you had any right to be annoyed by this at all, and then promptly turned away from him like you’d lost all interest in his theatrics. You meandered around the shore, scooping up the battered remains of some of the fish that had stranded themselves during his failed Call. Then you sat yourself well away from the water’s edge and pulled a knife from your boot, running it along the fish’s scales and clearing out the muck.
“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly, making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so. Like that little blade of yours was supposed to be any sort of a threat. Perhaps he could use it to pick the leftover bits of you out of his teeth.
Vil turned up his nose and returned to carefully grooming the shredded ends of his fins.
“You’re an obnoxious brat,” he growled, wincing as his claws caught over a frayed patch of scales and began to bleed all over again. “And I’m going to drown you.”
Naturally, you did not respond.
.
.
The rope burned, and he knew he wasn’t helping himself. The twine of it was frayed, poor quality. And combined with the tacky, salt-sticky damp of the waves, it made the worst sort of web. Vil threw himself around in the shallows like a pup stuck in their first net. And he knew—knew—this wasn’t going to make things better. But the more he worked to free himself and the less progress he made, the angrier he got (Not afraid, angry. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t).
A tight bit of fibers snagged along the delicate mesh of the fins at his hips and gave a shrieking riiip that had him collapsing into the sand bed with a bitten off noise that he refused to call a gasp. But Sevens, it did hurt. He pressed his face into the shallow pool of warm water beneath his chin and forced his breath to calm, to dig his claws into the grit beneath him rather than his own scales. Because this wasn’t working. And he—he needed to fix it. On his own. Because he was on his own. And he was going to manage, just like he always had.
There was a noise off on the shore—the tumbling of pebbles against stone as you shifted around in your little, makeshift hideaway. And he refused to look up to meet your gaze. Because surely you were staring. Humans were always so happy to watch his kind suffer, flailing about in their traps and bound in nets like a garish display. And he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he’d been seen like… like this.
So he forced himself to go still and silent, ignoring the pain biting into his sides like the teeth of a shark and the panicked, clawing thing in his gut that kept screaming that he was going to die here.
.
.
The next morning, you were wandering the shoreline, scrounging after the remains of various crabs from the day prior. Vil refused to look at you, and spent the time pointedly running his claws through the tangles in his hair and primping himself like he didn’t have a care in the world. Because if a stupid, lowly human fit for nothing but an after-dinner-snack could thrive in these circumstances, than surely he could do even better.
There was the soft, wet sounds of your footsteps behind him, and Vil turned on you with a roaring snarl—fins pinned and spines perked, defensive.
“What?” he snapped, beating his tail.
You awkwardly held up one your pickings—a round, red crab with fat claws.
“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…”
Vil fought the urge to gawk. Were you offering him one of—but why would you—
He bit through his surprise with another sneer. “Firstly, crabs are crustaceans, not fish. You’d think any self-respecting creature that spent their days on the ocean would know something as obvious as that. Secondly, why would you even think that I would share a meal with you? Even I didn’t think humans could be that stupid, but you’re certainly setting a new bar.”
Your mouth twitched at his very sharply enunciated ‘stupid’ and he fought a smirk.
“Oh. Know that one, do you?” he cooed, all mocking.
“Look, do you want it or not?” you snapped, irritated, and his fins flared up again—wide and defensive.
Vil crossed his arms on an exaggerated, pointed huff and turned in the other direction. A clear dismissal. “I’d rather starve.”
“Whatever,” you griped, voice canted sharp with your foul temper, and then there was a crack and a yelp.
Vil turned back to see you reeling away, hand over your mouth to catch a mix of blubbering, wincing curses and a shattered crab shell clenched between your fingers in the most obvious show of stupidity he’d perhaps ever seen. He burst out into laughter before he could help himself, and you stormed away with warm cheeks and pieces of jagged, red shell still clinging to the corners of your lips.
.
.
That night he fought the ropes even harder, ignoring the way they pulled, and tore, and dug into places that he knew they should not. And maybe it was self-destructive, stupid, but if he didn’t get himself free of this horrible mess his fins would never heal. He’d never be able to swim properly again. And he’d never be able to leave this cove, never return to his pod, his family. Never—
A shell walloped him in the back of the head and Vil turned with a shriek so vicious it nearly startled even him. Because there you were—the bane of his existence. Standing at the edge of the water with that ridiculous, deadpan look on your ridiculous face and already scrounging about in the sands like you were looking for something else to throw at him. He didn’t even know what he was screaming at that point, absolutely brought over the edge in rage, and pain, and fear, and it was all. your. faul—
Then something in your expression snapped and you were storming forward towards the surf—absolutely incensed.
“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you shrieked, stomping in the sand and nearly pinning the longer, trailing ends of his fins beneath your heels. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”
“You trapped me!” he howled, outraged. “You were going to kill a member of my pod! Who’s barely out of his pup days! And he was my responsibility, and you were going to attack him!”
Magic zipped along his tongue, demanding that you kneel. Show your throat and be done with it. But when you just kept glaring back—absolutely stone-faced and seething with indignation—Vil forced himself to take a breath, and then another.
“Epel,” he spat, low and exaggerated. He saw your eyes flicker to his lips, trace the outline of the word. “Epel,” he said again, sharp and angry. And when your own mouth began to subconsciously follow the shape of it, he was off and running again. “He’s my responsibility. Epel. He—” Vil pointed at the pale, lavender creases at the base of his fins. “His hair is like this. You saw him. You spoke to him. And you were going to tie him up just like you did to me.”
Your eyes narrowed, sharp.
“That kid,” you said after a moment, lips twisting in a frown. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”
“Epel,” Vil spat again, smacking his fins into the surf to douse you in a mess of seawater. “Not some kid. A pup. Barely of age. And you were going to—”
“You—” you hissed, scrubbing the salt from your eyes with the back of your hand. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. It splattered along Vil’s hips, barely a sprinkling in comparison to his own tidal waves. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”
Vil snarled, and the twist of it left a bitter, rotten taste on his tongue. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter what you wanted, because you were just some human. Humans were vile, and cruel, and good for nothing but filling their bellies. And this was his family. So what if you claimed you were just standing up for your own brood? It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.
So he turned back to dive into the shallows with as much force as his aching, crippled fins could manage. Sinking to the bottom of the cove in a huff of bubbles and clawing his way through the muck until he was well and truly hidden in the murky, sandy depths. He smacked his tail against the mess of pebbles and rocks until every creature beneath was scurrying for safety—fleeing outwith the flailing, destructive force of a Siren’s tantrum.
Was that why he was here, then? Bound and gagged on some hellhole of an island because of his own mistakes? Because you’d just been aligning yourself with the moral high ground he’d been riding this whole time? Saving your kin at the cost of your own, fragile skin. Dragged overboard to fight the monsters trying to devour your family whole. Ridiculous. He wasn’t going to let himself feel bad for the slighted prey in a hunt gone wrong. Sharks certainly didn’t regret the fish they chased, nor did the great black-and-white whales that pursued those sharks in turn. This was just the way of things, the circle of life. And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about the tight, protectivelook on your face as you shouted him down about defending your own pod at all.
.
.
You were curled up by the same rock the next morning, sleeping soundly against the rough hewn edge. It looked hideously uncomfortable, with your chin tucked up against your chest and your head pressed against half-a-dozen layered, jagged ridges. Vil had always heard that humans were used to luxury—soft, plush blankets made of foreign fabrics and great, stuffed squares of bedding that could put even the finest woven siren nests to shame. And there you were. Scrunched up with a shell clearly embedded in your cheek.
He frowned, fins rippling awkwardly at his sides where the majority were still knotted up in twine.
He needed to leave this cove. As soon as possible. And get away from… all of this.
It generally wasn’t considered the best of ideas to Call openly across the sea. Lone sirens were prime targets for all sorts of nasty scavengers. Human hunters, rival pods, even other rogues looking for a fight. It was dangerous to mark one’s position so openly, let alone in a manner that made it obvious of the less than stellar situation they had no doubt found themselves in. It was also a nasty toll to try and Call so far for so long, on himself and the environment around him. A screeching, horrible thing that he’d only heard a few times in all his years. It was a terrible idea for everyone involved, himself and his fellow castaway most of all. But, well, desperate times, and all that.
Besides, it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear it anyways.
So began his endless song.
He’d sing, and sing, and sing—feeling the ripples of it carrying across the surface of the water and shivering through the air. And then, after he’d worn his throat ragged, he’d pause. Just long enough to swallow around the sting and tilt his head to listen. His fins would flare out against the side of his head, and he’d wait. And then, when there was no answer to his Calling, he’d circle back and do it again. A part of him hoped there would be none. He’d taught his pod better than to do something so foolish—to put themselves at the mercy of all the monsters of the sea. And… if they didn’t answer, perhaps that just meant they were searching for him. Using his own, ridiculous harping to trace him down. And if not that, then at least that they were off somewhere safe. Somewhere far, and hidden.
He swam and sang until he was too exhausted for either. Bound fins a heavy, leaden weight at his hips and head barely cresting above the water.
When the sun set over the horizon, Vil let himself roll in alongside the surf to rest in the sand, boneless and sore. His eyes slipped shut with the encroaching darkness, too heavy to hold open at all. He hadn’t seen much of you today. Occasionally you’d wander down to the shoreline, head popping up over a cluster of rocks to shoot him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but for the most part you’d stayed hidden away. Out of his hair, at least. Perhaps you’d finally learned what was good for you, and that keeping as far away from the beast lurking in the shallows was the only way you’d be getting out of this alive.
And then his eyes were snapping open to a field of stars overhead and the moon hanging fat and low in the sky like a fruit ripe for the plucking.
And there you were, hovering over him with that laughably small knife of yours.
Carefully and gently working the rope away from his tattered fins.
Your fingers were delicate, precise. Every time those woven fibers tugged in a way that could even begin to hurt, you were softening your touch and muttering reassurances under your breath. He wondered if you realized you were doing that at all—chattering quiet, rambling nonsense like a nervous tick. ‘Ack, don’t twitch so much, it’s just going to cut deeper,’ and ‘sorry! Sorry! I didn’t think that would move like that! Just—just stay still and it will all be done way faster and then you can swim off, and—’ You were exceptionally careful over the areas of rough, beaten scales along the dip of his tail, wincing in sympathy at the raw, raw skin there. The blade never strayed anywhere it wasn’t needed, and you never touched any part of him that wasn’t in an effort to work another tangle of knots free.
Vil kept himself perfectly still and his breaths even and deep. He watched you through the low, golden dip of his lashes, eyes tracking your fluttering hands and quiet mumblings.
The last of the rope fell away with a wet, heavy plap in the sand and when you sighed there was a smile in your voice.
“There,” you muttered, soft. “Now he can swim home again.”
He froze, startled, and something dropped low and tight in his gut.
Because humans were cruel. Humans were food. Humans were nothing more than vermin crawling over the surface of his ocean in their hunkering, wooden vessels and finless feet. They didn’t deserve sympathy, or anything of that ilk. And—
Your gaze met his and the spark of horrified realization didn’t even manage to settle properly in your wide, wide eyes before he had you pinned in the sand.
It was easy—far too easy. Compared to him you were so small, so fragile. No heavy, bulk of muscle and scales to help keep you alive and fighting. Just fragile limbs and lungs that were good for nothing. He dug his claws into your shoulders and felt the warm prick of blood curl up beneath his talons—could see you wince with the first pinch of acrid poison sharpening the wound. He was going to rip you apart, just like he’d said he would. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear him, he’d show you. Because humans were vile, and no matter what you’d claimed, you didn’t deserve anything better than an end beneath the points of his fangs. Fuel for the journey back to his pod and nothing more.
‘There. Now he can swim home again.’
He reeled back, nose scrunching and teeth grinding in his jaw.
You were still beneath him, blinking up in shock but not fighting. Like being flipped onto your back had been startling out of principle, but not unexpected. Like the idea of dying at his claws was just something you’d been expecting from the get-go.
And yet—
‘Sorry! Sorry!’ you’d been rattling. ‘Ah, if you squirm it’s just going to hurt, you stupid, overgrown fish—'
Vil reared back with a snarl that had goosebumps racing all along your arms, and then he was diving back into the shallows—swiping the tip of his fins against your nose as he went in a sharp crack that he hoped would have you yelping and stumbling away from the ocean’s edge.
He paced along the edges of the bay, newly freed fins slowly uncurling in the lull of the tide. And he felt free. Sore, certainly, and aching in ways he never had before, but free.
When he popped his head back out of the water, you were sprawled out in the sand like a dying starfish, absolutely out of your mind and babbling nonsense about ‘captains’ and ‘collars’ under your breath.
‘Good,’ he harumphed, diving back into the shallows to twirl along his unbound tail. ‘Maybe that would teach you to stay out of the water.’
.
.
[TAG LIST - CLOSED]
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#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#Vil Schoenheit x Reader#Vil x Reader#vil schoenheit#Mermay#Monster Mayhem#My Writing#vil shoenheit#Siren!Vil#Mermaid!Vil#Fantasy AU#Monster Mayhem Vil Part 1.5#Vil's POV
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Cafeteria
Vil: Potato. You seem well rested.
MC: *looks like they got the first good night's sleep in years* Yeah, I figured out how to occupy the problematic children.
Vil: Well that is an impressive feat. And how, pray tell, have you restrained the troublesome teens?
MC: Two words. Fidget toys.
Scenery changes to the guest room in Ramshackle
First years: *playing with different fidgets*
Grimm: *stops batting at a fidget spinner* Wait a second, where's my henchman??
Deuce: *is messing with a chicken pop-it* I don't know MC left a while ago
Epel: *drops his fidget cube* Guys what day is it?
Back
MC: Yeah, I'm totally selling them. And no, Azul, I'm not selling you the rights. They don't exist here, therefore are my intellectual property.
Azul: *glaring as he steps out from behind a wall*
#twst mc#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twst#twst shitpost#twst imagines#twst meme#disney twisted wonderland#deuce spade#twst first years#vil shoenheit#vil#vil schoenheit#twst epel#epel felmier#twisted wonderland epel#twst deuce#twst grimm#twst azul#twisted wonderland azul#Azul is my new cryptid yall#he stalks the walls listening for business deals
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I have a silly request that you may or may not enjoy.
Fem!Yuu who came from a long line of chefs and can make just about anything. From quiche to raspberry tarts to katsu sandwiches. She of course decides to share her skills in the form of making each of her friends a different bento catering to their tastes.
When asked why, she simply states that she cares about them and wants to see them well fed. Cue the marriage proposals.
~Okay, I can do that. Not for ever character of course because I have no time. Just allow me my personal flavor.~
"The way to a man's heart"
(part 2 here) (part 3) (part 4)
Characters featured:Azul, Jamil, Ace, Deuce, Malleus, Vil, Idia, and versus staff
"Remeber sweetheart, the way to a man's heart is though his stomach. That's how I got your Baba. It's is also a measurement of love, a good dish is made with 3 cups of love and 4 tablespoons of care and 1 liter of dedication."
Yuu had those words etched in her mind since childhood. Every dish she made was filled with the TLC her family required for the perfect dish.
But being the youngest I such a line meant that she had never had many people outside of the family try her foods.
Mama, Baba, Ye ye, and Lola didn't lie; but they didn't want to hurt her feelings.
So Yuu couldn't help but tremble when she handed the two lunch boxes to Ace and Deuce. It was just before lunch time when she presented them before quickly running off.
She ran to the quad and hid behind an apple tree.
Her plan was to let them eat the lunches and later go to retrieve the boxes to get a review. They wouldn't feel pressured to say anything nice and Yuu would know how she did.
And if they like her cooking then they could be super close and eat lunch like this everyday!
But if they hate it then they might not. They might get mad and never talk to her again.
"Are you trying to poison me? What kind of girl doesn't know how to cook something so basic" Ace would say tossing away her lunch.
"It's not too bad, if it's your first time. I just don't think your cut out to be a chef." Deuce would say turning green.
Yuu managed to make herself depressed from her own imagination as she hid. Her wild imagination tended to get the better of her.
"Hey, Yuu! If you wanted to eat here just say so." Ace said standing behind her with lunch box still in hand.
"It's not a bad spot either. We should eat here more often. It's quieter." Said Deuce next to him.
Yuu internally screamed as they sat to eat. She focused on their every facial expression as they ate.
Ace had Monte Cristo sandwich with a summer fruit salad. He seemed to really like the dip for the sandwich.
Deuce had a simple fried egg sandwich with bacon, and cheese. There was a bit of blueberry jam on the side for the bread.
While the boys ate Yuu didn't notice that they eyed each others food and quickly ate theirs to see if they steal form the other. They guarded their lunch like dogs.
Yuu saw this and her eyes lit up believing they really loved her food. Eagerly she waited for them to finish so she could ask.
"Do you like it?!" Yuu asked
The boys after staring each other down heaped praise on her and asked her to make lunch again.
It became a regular thing as they were already spoiled by Yuu and she loved her first taste testers.
With Yuu reassured of her skills came another challenge. He insatiable need to share her food.
"Good food makes for good company and friends." Ye ye always said.
Food is meant to be shared and it was good for the soul. Many souls in this school needed to be fed. Maybe they'd calm down a little.
So she started supplying her friends with homemade food.
Yuu waited patiently for Jamil after basketball practice with a hefty lunch box. It was buttered chicken curry with jasmine rice. It had a side of vegetable sauté. And of course an after practice energy drink.
She had patted herself on the back for this one. She wanted to impress Jamil.
As she walked along the side of the court she offered Jamil the drink. He took it great fully before eyeing the lunch box suspiciously.
"I made you something to eat. I though you might want something to eat you didn't make yourself for once." Yuu said suddenly self conscious.
Floyd must have heard because he rudly began interrupting.
"Oh, sea snake is are so lucky! I want a shrimpy wife to cook for me too!" He whined loudly.
The "Ooo"'s that came from the other basketball club members made Jamil's ears turn red.
"Shut up Floyd!" Yuu yelled at him with her face burning.
"I'm sorry Yuu. You know how guys are. Thank you for doing this for me." Jamil said quietly trying to hid his face.
"It's no problem Jamil. I really wanted you to try this." Yuu said softly.
Just as she said this Jamil looked over his shoulder to the the boys laughing before leaning down and kissing Yuu's forehead.
"I wanted to thank you properly." Jamil said smiling before leaving to sit down to eat with Yuu.
She was an amazing cook and it felt good to be cooked for. It reminded him of when he didn't need to care for Kalim.
"I wish I could eat this everday." Jamil said absent-minded.
Yuu's eays widened before laughing. He didn't mean it. Right?
There were times Yuu casually dropped off dishes.
Korean barbecue for Epel
Ratatouille for Rook
Fresh baked pie for Silver
None of this escaped Vil's notice who wondered why Yuu never came around to give him anything. I wasn't as if he didn't eat.
Though if memory serves he has turned his nose up at certain foods around her. She probably didn't want to be told her food wasn't good enough.
To Vil it didn't matter, if she was a chef she should know her customers tastes. Never mind that he wasn't a customer nor was she being paid to cook, his feeling were hurt.
But as luck would have it Yuu didn't forget him.
"Vil-sama! Here!" Yuu practically bubbled with energy was she leaned over Pomefiore's kitchen counter.
Epel was currently face deep in a slice of apple-apricot pie. and ice cream.
Vil hoped that she wasn't expecting him to eat that as he wouldn't have that much gusto. He didn't have the heart to lecture Epel on manners with Yuu around but he had no problem after she was gone so he better injoy it while he can.
"Try some." Yuu held out a cup of green liquid.
Yuu held out a cup of green tea with a palte of fresh sushi.
"Traditional green tea doesn't go well with heavy or greasy foods so I made some simple salmon sushi to help clean your palette." Yuu said smiling.
Vil took a sip and smiled at her.
"It's good. I wish I could drink this every morning." Vil said eating a piece of sushi.
Yuu turned pink as she quickly excused herself.
Azul was the greediest of her friends. He loved trying new foods but especially fried chicken.
Azul eagerly awaited when Yuu entered the lounge with food in hand. They would eat in his office as Azul would try to trick Yuu into working hin the kitchen.
Even though he was trying to convince her to work for him the job offer was as a personal chef because he didn't want to share. Another reason she didn't agree.
"I just want to eat with you everyday." He said slyly over his Frutti di Mare. "Don't you want to eat with me too?"
Yuu bit the inside of her cheek as she turned red.
"Azul that's not funny. Don't say that unless you mean it." Yuu said stiffly.
"But I do mean it. Cross my heart." Azul said more earnestly but Yuu quickly said goodbye and fled. Azul was left confused.
The next day Yuu spent lunch hiding in the teacher's lounge. She was allowed to as Crewel's pseudo daughter and bringing lunch.
Crewel dug into his beef stroganoff as he listened to Yuu's concerns.
"I don't know what to do! Pa, I can't face them again!" Yuu panicked her hands waving frantically.
"Slow down my pup. What happened." Crewel said unfazed by Yuu's familiar. She's expressive he'll give her that.
"Jamil, Vil and Azul asked to marry me!" Yuu shouted before slapping a hand over her mouth. Blabber mouth.
(telling someone you want to eat their cooking or drink their tea everyday could be considered a proposal. I just happens that in Yuu's family that how they propose marriage traditionally.)
There was a sharp spitting sound from across the room as Sam burst out laughing making seafood gumbo splattered.
"Congratulations, sugar! I always knew you were a charmer. It's no wonder all the boys want you!" Sam laughed.
"It's highly inappropriate. You're all to young to even think of such things." Trein said stiffly as he put down his spoon and stopped eat his potage parmentier.
Divus stared blanky before asking again. Crowley would raise hell over this if he didn't do it first. His puppy can't get married. Not yet.
Yuu found herself at ease after it was explained that people don't propose that way here.
Feeling better she waited late for her nightly walk with Malleus. She made a late night snack of soft madelines and a thermos of cinnamon hot chocolate.
Malleus was more then happy to accept her gift. They sat in glen snacking before Malleus spoke up.
"I heard you are getting engaged." He said drinking hot chocolate
"No I'm not." Yuu sighed because of course he heard.
"I see, so they were all unacceptable. Please consider me an option then. I would happily marry you and eat with you everyday!" Malleus said taking Yuu's hand and getting on one knee.
Yuu almost fainted in shock.
'Papa you lied!'
(Bonus)
"Idia please come out! I brought you some Gyros." Yuu called out from behind the door.
Yuu had been working hard to lure Idia outside and was making progress. Soon enough Idia will be eating in the cafeteria before he knows it.
It was like getting a feral cat socialized as Idia cautiously opened the door. He knew to be wary of Yuu's offerings but like the call of a harpy he does as she wants. Everyday she lures him further away from his safe space.
"I made some tortoise candies last night." Yuu said holding the golden lollipop.
Idia would have to steel himself for this one.
#twisted wonderland yuu#twst mc#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst yuu#twst imagines#twst ace#vil schoenheit#vil shoenheit x reader#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud#idia x yuu#twisted wonderland idia#twisted wonderland deuce#deuce spade#twisted wonderland azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x yuu#jamil viper#jamil x yuu#epel felmier#twst floyd#floyd leech#ace trappola#ace trapolla x yuu#malleus x yuu#malleus maleficarum#chef!yuu
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Hi! I saw that you were opening your requests for the next day or so to celebrate getting 2.7k followers! First off, I wanna say congratulations, and may you have a good day/night (almost wrote 'not' lol)!
Anyways, I read your rules, and wondered if I could get a fic with Leona, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia being in a relationship with a Venti! Reader? Essentially, Venti is a Genshin Impact character who plays the lyre, controls the wind, and has a playful personality.
‧₊˚✧ As Free as the Wind ‧₊˚✧
↳ Twst guys with a Venti!reader
feat: Leona ❋ Vil ❋ Malleus ❋ Lilia
genre: humor, mild fluff
note: no pronouns were used with the reader, Venti!reader is of legal age to drink, no spoilers regarding the Genshin Impact storyline, minor spoilers for TWST Book 7
Thank you reading my rules, always appreciate the extra effort people make! I deeply apologize for how late I am with this, but I hope you enjoy the post. Hopefully I captured Venti's personality well enough >_<'
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
Ooff, did he first thought you were a pain in his tail.
Loud, cheeky, no fear of disturbing anyone for entertainment or favors… at least Ruggie has the decency to be useful.
He scoffed when you smile and act as if he can’t sense a dangerous well of power within you, the playful persona you present may fool a common man but not Leona.
He’ll play your game though. There’s no benefit to him to pry into your secrets. He finds this side of you, the one that would play a soft ballad for him for some booze money, much easier to deal with.
This is a strange relationship, but Leona can respect someone strong and most of all, doesn't tell him what to do. You believe in free will and freedom above else, which Leona appreciates.
“The concept of one king ruling over all... I can’t say I’m too interested in a land like that.”
Leona laughed at your boldness. With you, there’s no sense about stuffy responsibilities and obligations.
There are sweet days where you and Leona would spend the day in the greenhouse, Leona sleeping soundly as you play your lyre while humming your new poems, the wind carrying your melodic voice.
“Huh, do you have a song for me? Hah, what do you want from me this time? Fine, I’ll let you play.”
Vil immediately clocked something powerful about you, your nonchalant persona is good, but you cannot fool a seasoned actor like him.
No matter, though. Vil has no interest in delving into someone’s past like that. Vil assumes that if you must act so easy-going yet private about yourself, then he won’t pry into such things. One must have reasons, he supposed.
However, Vil cannot let go of your pension for the “occasional” drink or two. Vil doesn’t care that you are older than your appearance suggest, alcohol impacts your body and health as you age so he rather you limit that little habit of yours.
“Come now, Vil. Another bottle wouldn’t hurt~”
“Hmmph, you don’t have to worry much about yourself when you’re drunk but I most certainly do, especially when you come to me reeking of wine.”
But you always managed to quell his anger by singing ballads and poems about your wonderful beloved Vil. That always lifts the Housewarden’s mood and you end up with a mere reprimanding. Hehe.
Vil will not, however, forgive you so easily if you get too mischievous with him. The beautiful man can respect your talent with wind and currents, but he doesn’t appreciate the gust you would conjure up if it messes up Vil’s appearance too much.
“Don’t even think about running away from me. I know you were behind the sudden rush of wind, my mischievous one. Acting cute or sweet words is not going to work this time.”
However youthful you may appear, Malleus can sense an old soul within you which feels familiar and powerful.
Malleus is often surprised by you, for your playful and bold nature while handling the wild winds as skillfully as you hold the lyre. You bear similarities to a certain someone that he can’t help but respect you and hold you to a higher regard than any typical being.
Malleus doesn’t hate that easygoing personality of yours. On the contrary, he enjoys that spontaneous side of yours as you suggest the strangest of ideas to a powerful figure such as him.
“Let's go jumping in puddles and see who can make the biggest splash!“
You are a sociable being, making friends so easily that it baffles the young fae. A few cute words from you and it was suddenly so easy to lower one’s guard around you.
However, when you’re alone and don’t realize his presence, Malleus catches that gleam of loneliness in your eyes as you gaze from your tall resting spot. A look that Malleus feels a kinship with you in that regard.
”You would like to take a stroll with me tonight? Oh, a race in the sky, you say? Very well, but don't be conceited enough to believe I’m so easily bested.”
Dear Sevens, why would you ever let these two chaotic gremlins be in the same vicinity? Do you know no mercy for others?
The two of you would hit it off so well, it’s almost concerning. Lilia finds you a delight to be around, almost a kindred spirit even.
“So, you also took care of a dragon long ago.”
“Yeap, but he sorta became a nation-wide threat when I decided to leave and go off on my own.”
“Ah yes, those things do tend to happen.”
(if you can’t tell who’s saying what, that really speaks to how similar a coincidence that was)
Jamming sessions ALL. THE. TIME. The campus has not known a single moment of rest as you display your musical talents in the courtyard while Lilia encourages you all the way, occasionally playing along with an instrument of his own.
Lilia is fascinated by your lyrical retellings of your world and would love to visit this kingdom that values freedom among all else, and of this dandelion wine you speak so lovingly about.
As a man with his own… history, Lilia isn’t the type to ask too much about you if he sees you dodging the question. He can recognize that familiar look of longing and loss, so Lilia doesn’t press further and instead indulge with you in one more glass of bittersweet wine.
“What tales do you have to regale for tonight? I’m always captivated by these grand adventures of yours, it’s almost tempting for this old soul of mine, hehe.”
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#leona kingscholar#leona kingsholar x reader#twst leona#twst leona x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#vil shoenheit x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#twst malleus#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#twst lilia x reader#lilia x reader#2.7k followers event
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