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#yandere rollo flamm x reader
merakiui · 6 months
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eden.
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yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, non-con, captivity, obsession, menophilia/period sex, vague references to the story of adam & eve note - a self-indulgent paradise crafted by rollo's generous, gracious hand.
Silvery slivers of moonlight spill through the space in the curtains, illuminating the fluffy sheets you’re currently entangled in. A sharp sting in your abdomen rouses you from your dreamless slumber, so agonizing it causes you to slowly curl in on yourself. Miserable and defeated, you groan and bury your face in the neighboring pillow. Now muffled, the sound can only carry on for however much capacity your lungs possess. It eventually fizzles out into a solemn, silent resignation that forces you to accept the third day of the monthly curse that is the menstrual cycle.
It’s a natural facet of your biology, but that doesn’t stop you from moping when you register the slick sensation between your legs.
This wouldn’t be an issue if he got me pads or tampons, you think, bitter with resentment and worn to exhaustion even though you’ve only just woken.
Awkwardly, you attempt to sit up and pull the covers back to check the damage. Rollo’s sheets are always spotless and fresh; he washes them every two weeks on Sunday afternoons, dedicated to following his schedule down to the letter. But then the pain persists, stabbing through to your very organs, and you resume your pitiful fetal position in hopes that the severity may abate.
It does, but you think you’re just tricking yourself into believing so.
You can feel the blood soaking through your white nightgown, and the sodden fabric molds itself to your rear in a very unpleasant way. Shuddering, you blink back tears.
I wanna go home.
Home, as it happens, has felt less and less temporary with each passing month spent in Twisted Wonderland. You’ve come to associate the familiarity of Night Raven College and its student body with comfort and contentment. It’s your home away from home. A long, long way from home. But it’s all you’ve ever had since the Dark Mirror beckoned you forth, and it’s served as your solace for a while.
Initially, you felt trapped and alone, uncertain of your fate and what this could mean for your life. But now you realize that no amount of feeling stuck at school could ever compare to this—to real confinement.
Your capture and, subsequently, your captor’s inexplicable infatuation are the result of arbitrary observation. In his frigid, heavy-eyed stare, you fit the criteria for a definition of purity he has constructed for his own abstract conduct. Untouched by magic, unable to conjure even the simplest spell, you are the speck of hope within Pandora’s box—a blessing enshrouded in sin.
“It must be taxing to live amongst mages so often,” he had said, as if to extend sympathy.
Foolishly, not quite understanding where those words were coming from, you replied in jest, “Believe me, it is. The amount of times I’ve nearly been caught in the crossfire when my friends get into heated arguments… Yikes.”
Rollo Flamme is a righteous man, and thus it is his duty to build a pristine paradise for you. An Eden of his own creation, its sole purpose to safeguard you from the pollution that is magic and, by extension, mages.
But purity cannot be found here, for Rollo is a devil in this garden. Potted plants adorn the floor; it’s something of a floral jungle, filling the room with perfumed scents and pretty sights. You’ve made note of their habits—of every flower that wilts and rises once it’s watered, of every petal that pries itself open under the moon’s glow and closes come sunrise, of every stem that’s trimmed to prevent excess.
Rollo Flamme prefers tidy spaces, so this well-kept garden is sterile and peaceful. You’ve likened it to a morgue filled with dead things—or soon-to-be dead things, as most plants cannot thrive forever no matter how diligent the botanist.
He barked a humorless, monosyllabic laugh at your declaration. “Unless you’ve chosen to view yourself as a rotting corpse, which you are not, your comparison is both unwarranted and untrue,” he muttered, and that was the final utterance of that subject.
Conversations with Rollo are always impossible, which is why you’re dreading this next one when he turns the key in the lock. The sound is like a gunshot in an empty room: explosive. As if echoing your discomfort, your cramps worsen in their intensity and you suck in a shaky breath through grit teeth. You hear the door shut and lock, sentencing you to an exchange with an unwanted warden. He walks into a mostly serene scene, his glacial gaze sweeping across the room to pick apart any interruptions in this slice of Shangri-La.
“I’ve brought dinner,” he announces, and you lift your head to peer at the tray in his hands.
“I don’t want your grapes and croissants,” you spit. “I want something warm.”
“It is warm.” Stepping closer, he sets the tray on his desk. You spy wispy tendrils rising from a bowl of soup. “Sit up and eat before it goes cold.”
You attempt that, halfway up on your elbows, but then your abdomen tightens and you slump back into the sheets. “Hurts,” you whine, clutching your stomach.
Rollo sniffs at the air, brows furrowing. His shoes click out an even rhythm against the floorboards, stopping at your bedside. Without ceremony he yanks the duvet away and you hiss at him, humiliated even though it’s normal. Your skin prickles with a chill, and it’s made even worse when you see the fiery glint in his eyes—the perceptive sort of glaze that overtakes his pupils when he’s observing you. His eyes crawl down your figure, stopping at the stain sullying your satin nightgown.
“Ah, you’ve leaked.”
“Obviously,” you snap. “I did this yesterday, too. When are you going to get me pads? Or tampons? I’ll even take a towel at this point or toilet paper. Anything is better than this.”
Rollo shakes his head. “You’re perfectly fine as you are.”
“Free bleeding like this is filthy and unsanitary.”
“So I’ll simply clean you.”
You drag your hand down your face and groan. “Rollo, please. It hurts, and it’s wet and uncomfortable.”
“You’ve illustrated these points more than clearly.”
“So then… Then do something about it!”
He narrows his eyes at you, silently taking issue with your demand, before he hums his consideration. His face settles into something neutral while he removes his hat and shoes, dutifully setting them in their respective places.
Rollo surprises you when he climbs onto the bed, kneeling over you with the tiniest trace of a smile.
“Spread your legs. I’ll have a look.”
Fresh horror blooms on your already distraught countenance. You bickered with him over this yesterday when he’d brought a wet rag to your inner thigh, seething at you to stay still while he wiped you down. You’d wrestled with him for ownership of the rag, insisting in panicked huffs that you could do it yourself. Your slap had rung out in the silence, rendering Rollo stiff with stormy emotions. He’d relinquished the rag, scoffing at you for being ungrateful and resolving to scribble in his diary for the rest of the day—a prisoner to his own silent treatment.
Now, as his cold fingertips creep up your legs, you feel less hungry and more sick.
Weakly, you shake your head at him, sinking deeper into the pillows. “I… I can do it myself…”
“With what? The nightgown you’ve already dirtied?” He tilts his head at you and smiles an odd smile. You can’t place it, whether it’s smug or sweet, but it soon becomes the former when he throws your words right back at you: “That’s filthy and unsanitary.”
“You don’t have anything either,” you retort, only to grimace once more.
Rollo exhales through his nose, amusement flashing in his dreary eyes. “Because I’m not going to clean you. Not yet.”
Ice crystalizes within your veins, and the tension in your legs slackens enough for him to pull them apart. “What?”
His hands stray dangerously close. You stiffen, nerves tangling with panic. “There are ways to alleviate menstrual cramps. You should be aware of them, so I see no need to go into detail.”
“I know, yes, but—” You swallow thickly and push his reaching fingers away before they can curl around the hem of your nightgown. “Rollo, please don’t…”
“You’ll feel better,” he assures you matter-of-factly, whispering the words like that will change anything. “This is better than medicine and safer than magic.”
You shift beneath him, unsettled. “A… A hot compress will do. Y-You’ll get yourself dirty. Also! A-Also… If we don’t wash the sheets soon, it’ll stain.”
“Let it. It will serve as a reminder to both of us. A reminder that, though you may ruin these sheets with all manner of bodily fluids, they will still remain pure.” He lifts your nightgown, leaning close to your ear while palming at your stomach. You angle yourself away from him, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s because you’re perfect and clean, untainted by magic, that you are able to exist here. I envy you…”
His bare hand is cold against your warm belly and it travels lower, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties. You stifle a whine, tears welling up behind your eyelids.
“Rollo…”
“Even your voice…” He inhales deeply, high off the scent of you—metallic and pungent, a natural musk more enticing than any flowery perfume. “Everything about you is so clean, even the very blood that pools between your legs… Just a moment in your embrace is enough to wash away the layers of filth that accumulate on my person. Perhaps you might even manage to scrub beneath my skin, wash out every ounce of magic that rests within… Would that I could, I’d break myself into pieces so that you may reassemble me—build a better me. A me without magic. If only…”
His other hand slithers into yours, squeezing tight. You’re arrested by the strain in his tone when he speaks next, so full of yearning and desperation. Covetous. Shameless.
“If only.”
“R-Rollo, please stop…”
“Yes… Yes, of course,” he babbles, nodding to himself. “I’ve likened you to a concept—to purity alone—but you are more than that. The embodiment of it… An angel. Otherworldly, immune to the poisonous effects of magic… Yes, that is what you are. An angel bereft of flaws.”
He fishes his celestial-patterned handkerchief from his pocket and presses it to your lips next. Your eyes snap open to find him now much closer than before, and you have but a moment to brace yourself before he leans in. The kiss is indirect, the both of you separated by the cloth, but the intention is there. It sticks to you even after he’s lowered the handkerchief. You are too pure and he is too filthy, which is why your lips must never touch.
Contradictory because he’s kissed you before.
Rollo drags your blood-soaked panties down to your knees. You shudder like a frail leaf caught in autumn’s harsh breeze.
“I’ve saved you—freed you!—from those…those villains. So you must allow me to indulge.” He shakes his head, his licentious, lustful stare smoldering to such a scorching degree it brands impure, unhealthy love upon your bare flesh. “I will indulge because I have been nothing but agreeable. This—” his fingers brush your slick folds, testing the waters— “is a wonder no magic could ever hope to reproduce. This is just you. Perfect, pretty, pure you…”
Experimentally, his digits dip shallowly inside. You flinch and inhale a sharp, frantic breath, your stomach somersaulting and knotting itself all at once. Complicated feelings stir within you as you writhe under his invasive touch. Your effort to escape is halfhearted; it’s too painful to move, so instead you attempt to clamp your legs shut. He tuts at you and slips his hand out from your hold to pet along your thigh.
“There goes a certain tale,” Rollo says, breathless as he continues his patient exploration. His eyes rove over your pussy like he intends to imprint it in his memory, and he doesn’t shy away from the crimson rivulet that runs down his palm when he sinks his fingers in further. You grit your teeth, melting against the pillows like an angel stamped in snow, and your free hand strangles a fistful of sheets. “In which a pair lived together in paradise, but it was temptation that ultimately led to their downfall. It is a doomed narrative.”
You’re breathing heavily now, your eyes flicking from the ceiling to the many plants that surround you on all sides, each one in full bloom. It feels as if you’re on a bed-turned-boat in a sea of greenery.
A sea of divine fertility.
With a skillful curl the two fingers delve deeper, pressing up against your gummy walls. Against your better judgment, you whine, loud and bawdy. His touch soothes, but then it stings. It makes you want to peel yourself open and step out of your skin so that you may subject it to a vigorous washing. It makes you despise the scent of flowers. It makes you fear the sound of the bell as it tolls unfailingly every single day. It makes you wish you’d never opened your mouth to respond to his words all those weeks ago.
Tears slip from your lash line. “Stop… Please stop…”
“Perhaps this is that same story made modern. Perhaps you were sculpted specially for me and I for you.” A third finger joins the other two working you open. Paper-pale skin is coated in brilliant vermillion, the very color of ardent desire. “Perhaps we are destined to fall together, born anew in someplace purer…”
The slow, steady drag of his fingers is more tempting than the ripe redness between your thighs, and you force yourself to gaze sidelong at the soup sitting abandoned on his desk. He plucks at each of your tangled, dewy strings, unraveling them with graceful strokes, and you’re pulled along on the blissfully uncomfortable current, treading between someplace grounded in reality and fantasy.
From above, at the bird’s eye view, you have become a garden for Rollo’s twisted whimsy.
You return to yourself when he eases his fingers out, stalling for a silent beat, before he thrusts them back in in one fluid motion. It punches the air from your lungs, has you throwing your head back with a weepy howl. He watches this with fierce scrutiny, curious at a clinical level.
“You’re beautiful,” he admits, spreading his fingers inside you. “My world. My panacea. My angel.”
“No… No, no.” You sob, your chest heaving with every wail. You can smell yourself on the air, the sharp scents of iron and sweat. Your pussy weeps blood, devastated at the hands of a monster, and yet it can’t stop affixing itself to him. A mold meant to suit his design. “Please… Please take it out.”
A shadow of contemplation passes over Rollo’s flushed countenance and then he’s reaching over to dry your tears, dabbing at your face with his handkerchief. “You’re okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore, right?”
You shake your head in protest rather than respond, chewing your bottom lip to shreds. A feeble whine slips through and you arch into him when his thumb presses down into your clit and prods at your hood. It happens all too fast. You tighten and loosen all at once, your mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back. The sheets are soaked through and properly soiled now, but that fact doesn’t lessen the seismic ecstasy that drapes itself over you like a veil. Your vision whites out and you fall, fall, fall through the waning vestiges.
Your heart drops into your stomach at the realization.
It doesn’t hurt anymore.
“You’ve done well.” He slides his fingers out, and the gooey squelching wrings a shudder from you. This time he grants you one of his rare smiles—the authentic, sincere kind—while he presses the pads of his fingers to his upturned lips, dyeing himself in your essence. You blink through encroaching tears, an ocean that obscures your vision and fuzzies his figure.
His fingers dig into the plush pudge of your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along your adductors. You open yourself again, involuntarily blossoming in this garden of iniquity.
“Good,” he praises again, whisper-soft. “You’re only permitted to be this way with me. Anyone else would simply tarnish your sweetness. They’d take advantage of your ability to cleanse even the foulest of filth. But I…”
Rollo, still clothed and now libidinous in his impatience, fumbles to pull himself free. His throbbing erection presses against your stomach, the final piece to force this puzzle to completion.
“I will always lay myself at your altar.”
You beg him not to, but every objection goes unheard. His hips connect with yours; he’s holding back, if only just barely, pressing onwards slowly, his breath coming in huffs and grunts. To savor it. To know the feeling firsthand and engrave it into his very being, from his fingers to his toes. To immerse himself in the red rain of a shackled angel.
To color a picturesque paradise in cardinal sin.
Just beyond the windows of Eden, swathed in midnight luminescence, a glorious city set aflame burns bright, overtaken by fiery flowers.
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omg can you write one for Rollo on accidentally sitting on their face series. Mans going to pray for forgiveness lool
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Accidentally Sitting on Their Face (11) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
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Rollo Flamme 
Since someone had their little ‘freak out’ there are plenty of things out of order and breaking down
And other than the typical goodwill you hold for your problem-friends 
NRC refuses to be outdone by Royal Sword’s extra efforts to help clean up
“Wow Rollo I don’t think I ever imagined you doing manual labor!”
“Why is that (Y/n)?”
“I don’t know you’re always wearing a robe so I just assume you never usually do things….that’ll get your robe dirty?”
He sucks his teeth watching you from the corner of his eye
You’re so stupid adorkable
You’re at the top of the stairs precariously holding a water-filled bucket and sponge
He opens his mouth to scold warn you but he stops himself
It would be kind of cute to see what way you’d fall
It’d be a good lesson for a naive teacher’s assistant such as yourself
So when hears the clatter of a bucket, the sloshing of water, and your teetering voice he doesn’t bother looking up from his sweeping until it’s too late
“Ow! Geez I’m so clumsy…I really expected these steps to be harder…..wait a second…”
When you finally start to sit up you can expect to see one of two things
One: A blushing Rollo Flamme who refuses to open his eyes 
Or Two a wide eyed Rollo Flamme who is barely responsive
Both you’ll have a hard time reading and both will soon stand up and quickly excuse themselves
Ducking behind a hidden corridor or broom closet to nervously pullout his handkerchief and shove his face into it
For extra measure he’ll take out the gift he had planned to give you
A handkerchief with the inverse colors of his own 
Just to imagine that the cloth against his face is something more…intimate of yours
He’ll eventually come back…after a long while
“It was a simple slip. I hold nothing against you.”
“Okay good. I’m really sorry again.”
“You shouldn’t be. I enjoyed it It was an accident.”
Now if you forget the ghost of a smile on his face every time you and him are paired up for more cleaning duty
“It’s always a pleasure, (Y/n).”
No forgiveness needed because it's his right to be deserving of all things you
The ones he'll have to ask forgiveness for is the ones who will end up dying as his obstacles
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cvlutos · 1 year
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“Hell Fire”
| Repost: 01.12.23 | 1.5 K | Mature |
Rollo Flamm X GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia
| Dark Content | Spying [Voyuer] | Sexual Themes | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |
T.Manor.Notes: The idea was from my lovely, @elenamegan14
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“Tell me, how does someone like you? End up in a place such as NRC?”
The flames of the fire flicker and wave as you sit in front of them. Watching the red and orange flames dance freely. He stands behind you, the shoes of his heels clicking against the stone flooring as he nears you. You ignore him, your fingertips messing with the sheer fabric of your masquerade outfit, your mask placed aside. Over the crack of fire, you can hear the orchestra play.
“I do not take kindly to being ignored.” His icy hands touch the flesh of your cheek, searing you so that you automatically flinch. Yet he doesn’t let you crawl away, pulling you into his chest, shushing you as if you were a wild animal. “Shhh… I’m not going to hurt you…” His voice is hot against the shell of your air, attempting to lure you into false safety.
“I truly just want an answer. What makes you so special?” His hands move, forcing your face forward, forcing you to stare into the flickering flames as if they spoke in hushed whispers. Before stilling completely at the sound of the heavy wooden door being knocked upon.
“Answer.” His voice is quiet and threatening. He shouldn’t be here and he knows that. Your lips quiver as you speak, your voice cracking.
“… Yes?”
“Prince Malleus asks for you.” The voice of a guard. His grip on your tightens, a low ill-intended chuckle vibrating through his throat. “Tell him you’re on your way.” His voice is filled with amusement, squeezing your cheeks painfully.
“… Oh.. Tell him I'll be on my way…”
“Alright.” The room falls silent as the sound of heavy steps moves away from the door. The man drops you, standing up on his feet, watching you lay helplessly. “I do hope we can speak again.” He leans down, sliding the thin blue sparkly sheer scarf from your form, wrapping it around his hand, and exiting the room just as silently as he came.
Your gazes move up to the flames, slowly sitting up, and exhaling. You bring yourself up to your feet, adjusting your clothing, your hands sliding over the place where your scarf once was. You simply have to make do without it. You grab your mask, placing it on your face, grabbing the water bucket, placed in the corner of the room.
Putting out the flames.
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The Masquerade ball is lively.
Malleus’ hand gripping yours intently, leading you through the crowd. “You seem worried.” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, turning your gaze towards him and not the various masked faces. “I’m fine.” Your voice is curt and you can tell he looks worried behind his mask, moving to where both his hands hold yours.
“You can tell me anything. If something worries—”
“I’m fine. Malleus. I promise.” You pat his hands, though you know he doesn’t believe you as his hold on your hands tightens. Malleus looks over you, before landing on your waist, his eyes slightly darkening, brows furrowing. “The blue scarf. It’s missing.” Your stomach drops as he locks eyes with you, taking a step closer.
“Malleus—”
“I do hope that I am not interrupting.” Turquoise grayish eyes stare at the scene before him, watching the way yours widen and Malleus’ eyes seem to almost glow in disdain. “Monsieur Flamm, not at all. [Name]’s scarf is simply missing.” Malleus speaks, and Rollo tilts his head. Mocking concern, glancing at you for a millisecond. “I could possibly be able to help. If you were to, perhaps describe it to me.”
You open your mouth, stepping forward in panic before Malleus pulls you back to his side. Snaking an arm around your waist. “Blue and sheer.” His words are curt and venomous. Raising goosebumps on your skin.
He thinks to himself, his eyes seeming to brighten up as he looks at you. Pulling from his pocket, he reveals the scarf. Though it’s different, not the one you wore before. Malleus without hesitation, before Rollo steps back. “Ah. Ah. Ah. A good deed shan’t go unrewarded. It’s unfair. And you are everything but.”
“It is a scarf—”
“A dance! Yes. Thank you, I’m just so clumsy. But a dance, is that okay?” You cut Malleus off with faux excitement, ripping from his grip and taking the scarf from the noble bell college student, wrapping it around your waist and tying it sloppily.
“A dance. It shall suffice.” Rollo takes your hands within his own, pulling you towards the ballroom floor, leaving Malleus standing stiff as a statue. Rollo pulls you into his embrace, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other holding your hand.
“So eager to dance.” He speaks slowly as the music starts and you both begin to dance.
“Why do you keep bothering me?”
“I simply wish to know you. Is that a crime?”
“If it includes you stealing, spying, breaking into my room, being a headache. I could go on.” Your voice is firm and agitated, squeezing his hand to show your resentment, which only brings an amused chuckle.
“Ce n’est que le début. Bien d’autres choses vous attendent. Be overjoyed that I haven’t done worse. Wouldn’t wish to make your dragon further upset. That’d be a big dilemma for you to alleviate.” His voice has a dangerous edge, silencing you as he pulls you impossibly close. You twirl and dance around the ballroom, silent as a mouse. Saying nothing to the man you dance with.
“Tell me. Have you figured out an answer to my question?” The music ends, and yet he doesn’t relinquish his grip. Speaking into your ear, his gaze locked onto a glowering dragon.
“I ended up at NRC. Like anyone else. The mirror called me.” Rollo seems satisfied, taking a step back, his gaze moving down to your scarf, tugging at the fabric, making it tighter around your waist. You hear thunder crackle.
“Do your best not to lose it repeatedly. Many would do well to not return it and instead keep it, for such—” He pauses, his hands rising to pinch your cheek, his eyes swirling with something lustful. “Unsavory acts.” He steps back, his amused grin replacing with something smaller, almost unnoticeable.
“Enjoy the rest of the night. If you so desire another dance, do find me.” He leaves with a curt bow. Before you can turn around, you sense Malleus’ towering stature. He undoes the scarf, holding it in his hands as he watches Rollo disappear before finally speaking.
“Stay away from him for the rest of the night.”
He scorches the scarf to ash.
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Rollo Flamm pities you.
Feeble you. Soiled by the impurities of Night Raven College, tarnished by dirty hands of the several unruly dorms. He leans against the velvet of the couch of his study, a glass wine glass in hand, swirling crimson red wine. The clothing from the masquerade stripped aside, dressed in something more comfortable.
The original scarf he had taken from you, hanging delicately off his desk armchair. He rises from his seat, humming a melody from long ago, reaching his desk. Papers scattered across, each were reports about you. Anything that he could get his hands on.
He glances from his desk and out the large windows of his study. The light of the room in which you were staying was on. Showing your outline, you were changing. A soft sigh rolls off his tongue, placing the glass down, and sliding into his chair, wrapping the scarf around his neck and over his nose. Slowly inhaling.
He watches you calmly. It was like you were dancing. As if you danced from him. He hums, tilting his head to the side, feeling drowsiness take over. Almost lulling him to sleep, with the dull buzz of wine. Until a noticeable figure joins you. The prince of Briar Valley. Pressing you against his form, your silhouette merging into one as he furiously kisses you.
Rollo’s eyes widen, his breath becoming trapped in his throat. He clenches the scarf in hand, watching the intense scene unfold before him. You don’t attempt to push him away but pull him closer. He can’t tear his eyes away, his pants growing tight. He runs a hand through his hair. Tugging at his waistband and swallowing thickly.
The fires crackle wildly and dangerously, speaking and mocking the man who sits at his desk. His eyes glued to the shadow scene before him, as if a magician had cast a spell. Cum soiling the sheer scarf, his cock twitching in the warm air. As the man leans back in his chair, watching the shifting and molding of your bodies making love, chest heaving.
He nearly jumps from his seat, as if emerald green eyes peered at him, fully capable of seeing him and the shameful actions he committed.
Taunting his treasure. Rollo Flamm makes a vow.
He will have you one day. A sinful man like him will pull and pick at every fiber of your being. And you will love him.
Mais si vous choisissez de le renier et de vous enfuir, il prendra une allumette et brûlera tout le NRC.
Until the day he captures you.
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ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
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shkrmpp · 9 months
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his prayers [rollo.f x gn!reader]
⎯⎯ yandere warning, obsession, religious themes, rollo pov
a/n kinda just got on and wrote this when i should be packing...rollo is so babygirl coded
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when rollo first heard of the magicless student that currently resides at Night Raven College, he thought it was all a hoax, as just now, after many years, has his prayers been finally answered?
to him, you were an angel, a ray of hope in the miserable world he had to grow up in. you were his muse, his wishes of an ideal world, almost becoming true thanks to your presence.
you didn't know who he was, but rollo knows all about you. your favourite subjects, food, places, clothes, position to sleep in. he will admit, it does sound a bit creepy but why should he care? he was destined to meet you, as you were destined to meet him, so knowing them now were just perks for the future. how he knew, well, he was thankful to a certain student from your school whose obsessed with taking photos, more specifically the one with you in.
to rollo, you were ethereal, truly something for him to devote himself too. all that's in his way was the magic that seems to stalk your every movement, much like him, but his reasons were good unlike the desires of others that wish to plague your mind with magic.
now his plans were finished. afters months of planning, he was so close to meeting you yet so far. now with the flick of his pen, sealed with a wax stamp, the invitations were sent (yours being much more delicately made than the rest).
staring into the flames reaching out towards him, but failing every chance , a smirk falling upon his lips, eyes darkening while staring into the fireplace. a giddy feeling spreads across his body, one he hasn't felt in all this time.
an image of you presents itself in the fire, rollo watches their every move, a never-ending dance replaying over and over again. this is where his devotion towards the beings above will be awarded, his prayer will come true, and you, a perfect addition to his plans.
rollo can't wait to meet you.
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likes and reblogs appreciated!
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spitdrunken · 1 year
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notes: incest, yandere, implied noncon, frequently referenced past character death
After losing one, Rollo Flamme clings twice as hard to you. After all, you are the only sibling he has left.
During your youth, the people in the City of Flowers uttered about you and Rollo’s existences in the same breath: the Flamme siblings. There could even have been those who didn’t know either of your names, but they didn’t need to. Where one went, the other did, often hand in hand. Unlike most siblings, rarely, if ever, fought. At a young age, the light of innocence had dimmed from your eyes, and you simply didn’t feel the need to hold petty arguments. Even if there were disagreements, Rollo was always quick to fold to most of your desires. 
You and Rollo never spoke about your younger brother’s passing. Still, it sunk its claws into each and every one of your interactions. Before he was gone, Rollo hadn’t insisted you played with him, instead of your friends. Before he was gone, Rollo hadn’t convinced the teachers to let you play outside at the same time, despite being a year below him. (But they all knew of your situation, and how both of you had to redo a grade already because of it, easily giving in.)
Before he was gone, he had let you go out on your own.
After a while, it wasn’t like you wanted to either. You knew what would happen. You’d ran off with a friend without telling him, knowing that his sullen look and glares would scare them off, and were pulled from their company by frantic yelling ringing throughout the streets. He’d been crying, wailing, even, trembling all over, eyes somehow looking straight at you and through you all at once. He’d bonked his forehead against yours, hands grabbing at your arms and squeezing them as if to make sure you’re really there. He hadn’t let go for minutes. When he called you his brother’s name, he corrected himself.
As he got slightly older, Rollo’s grip on your life got tighter. He cleaned up after you, made your meals, readied your bag, and wrote detailed schedules about your every day activities. He cried a lot less. It had turned to anger. (Still, sometimes, you would find him crawling into your bed in the middle of the night with your brother’s name fresh on his tongue.) He would whisper and mutter to you, often in public, like sharing a constant secret, about how filthy magic was. How he knew you agreed, but neither of you could tell anyone. They wouldn’t understand, but one day they would. For now, you could only trust him, in this entire city. 
Then, Rollo developed his own magic. A flicker of fire on the top of his finger had reduced him to the much smaller child you’d once known him as, panic seizing him by his throat clear as day. He made you promise not to tell your parents yet. It was a curse. Maybe if he didn’t do anything with this, it would all turn out fine. He could pretend. 
But not forever. When the day came that Rollo was sent off to a middle school that would help him cultivate his magic, you’d protested more than him, but you were sure he didn’t want to go either. You’d given him a special handkerchief as a silly parting gift. You were forced to become more independent, and Rollo didn’t like this very much, but could do little about it. You started living in different worlds. When he wasn’t studying or attending classes, Rollo was worrying about you. In his eyes, you were sweet and pure enough that any mage may whisk in and tempt you, as they were so fond of doing. He had to protect you. He already failed once. He’d rather assume the whole world was against you, and keep you with him, rather than see you fall. 
You became an adult while he was Student Council President, and thus had definitively passed the age during which one could develop magic. An incredible burden was lifted off of Rollo’s shoulders. Out of all of them, there could have been one left untainted, pure. Of course it was you. This one relief still does not weigh up against the dreading chasm that’s opening between the two of you, that has been stretching wider year by year. You’re nowhere near as close as you used to. He thinks of how to remedy this, filling his diary with paragraph upon paragraph. 
Eventually, Rollo comes to a realization, as in one of your little letters you mention the budding feelings for another. He doesn’t want to hand you over to anyone else. Romantic relationships often end up the most central in people’s life, right? That seems to be the case, from what he’s heard and the novels he’s read. He’ll be that for you. He’ll fulfill each and every one of your needs, so your whole life, you won’t need anyone else but him. (He knows how vile and putrid this is, or, rather, that that’s what people think of it. That it is the peak of filth, and a practice that has been condemned all throughout history. But he’s not hurting anyone, especially not you, with this. He has nothing but good intentions. He is the exception.) 
When he presses an open mouthed kiss to your lips, his tongue tracing the outside of your mouth like he thinks it’s supposed to be done, Rollo knows he’s not the villain here. Even though your hands twitch and wriggle as he pins your wrists to the wall, and your face is scrunched up with utter disgust. This is not his own selfish desires bubbling to the surface after years of being suppressed, not a simmering obsession born when you allowed him to latch onto you during the darkest moments of his life. This is not bad. He’s not bad. It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him. 
Rollo feels tears on his face. He’s not sure whether they’re yours, or his.
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yaksha-lover · 6 months
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You were made in the image of the angel.
That’s what Rollo believes when he spots you, a speckle of light, amongst your tainted peers. You’re truly captivating to him; one so untouched by all the disgusting, dark miasma that swarms you, swirling it’s depraved fingers through your hair.
Despite magic’s presence in your life, it’s never taken root inside of you. For that, you are beautiful; the antithesis to the wicked fae that he so loathed.
He should have known Malleus would try to corrupt you. The dragon was alluring: dark tresses spilling around his broad shoulders, his piercing green eyes, and those magnificent horns upon his head. As gorgeous and charismatic as the fallen angel himself; that was what made him so dangerous.
It’s not your fault you gave into Malleus’ temptation. Rollo knows even he could have strayed from his righteous path had he been less disciplined than he was.
Still, he can’t end the burning rage when he sees the way you’ve been seduced by that man, the mark he’s begun to leave upon you.
He calms himself for a moment.
He’ll have to deal with it. For every drop of himself that Malleus has put into you, Rollo will have to cleanse you by doing the same.
Every kiss, every nip at your neck, every skirting of hands across your thighs will need to be replaced with a touch of his own, that of a pious man.
He’s sure you’ll understand - it’s only the price to pay for salvation.
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Yandere Rollo Flamame headcanon
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Rollo would be an obsessive and worshipful yandere.
He would obsess over your "purity" and how you can't do magic.
Rollo would also adore these traits in you.
You would be his angel.
Rollo would have heard about the NRC student who doesn't have magic.
But it wasn't until he met you that he realized how "pure" you are.
He wouldn't want to let you go back there.
They will only spoil your purity.
But Rollo could protect you.
He could secure your innocence.
He and only him.
Rollo wouldn't want to kidnap you at first.
He would initially try to convince you to stay with him.
Because it would be much safer with him.
And rollo would be sure that you understand your own best.
But if it doesn't work…
well, in that case, he doesn't have much choice.
Rollo would make rules that would be quite protective.
And he expects you to follow them.
And if you don't Rollo won't hesitate to punish you.
Discipline and order are a good thing even if it hurts you momentarily.
But if you obeyed Rollo would be surprisingly gentle.
However, all this is for your own good.
Or so he says.
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yuri-is-online · 4 months
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The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme
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"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.
But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?
notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.
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Two sentences.
Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.
Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 
Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.
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~~~~
Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.
“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  
“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.
“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  
“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  
“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”
“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”
“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  
“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-
“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  
You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 
“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.
“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.
“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.
“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 
“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.
“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.
“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  
“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.
“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.
~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.
“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.
“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”
“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”
“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”
“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.
“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”
“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”
“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.
“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.
“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.
“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.
“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.
“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”
“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.
“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.
It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.
~~~~
Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.
“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”
The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 
Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.
They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 
“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.
“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”
“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  
“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”
“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.
Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.
“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.
“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  
~~~~
For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.
“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  
“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.
“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  
“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”
“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”
“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 
“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 
“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”
“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.
“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.
“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”
“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  
“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  
“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.
“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.
“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  
“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”
“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.
“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”
“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.
“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.
~~~~
There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 
“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  
“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 
“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.
“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.
There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.
“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.
“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.
“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.
“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.
“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”
“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.
“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.
“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”
“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.
“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?
“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.
“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.
His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.
Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.
~~~~
“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  
“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.
“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.
“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.
“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  
“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.�� Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.
Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?
“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”
“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  
“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”
“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.
“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.
~~~~
Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.
“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  
You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.
“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.
“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”
“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.
“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”
“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  
“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  
“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.
“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-
“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”
~~~~
“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.
“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”
“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  
“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”
“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”
“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”
“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”
“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 
“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”
~~~~
“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”
“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”
“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  
“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.
“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”
“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”
“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  
“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  
The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.
About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.
“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.
~~~~
“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”
“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.
“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”
“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  
“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.
“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”
“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”
“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.
“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.
“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  
“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”
“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.
“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.
“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”
“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.
Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.
Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.
Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  
What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?
He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.
“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.
“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”
“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”
“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-
“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.
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dotster001 · 1 month
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When You Escape Him; Non NRC
Summary: Yandere Neige/Chenya/Rollo/Najma x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.
CW: these are probably the tamest of the crew, yandere content, probably ooc but we know so little about these guys, Rook's an ass, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, Rollo's darling is on their last straw, Stockholm syndrome
A/N: I was gonna include Najma, but she's so pretty, she could do whatever she wanted, and I'd be like, "whatever you say, babygirl." Anyways...I did not include her here...for reasons....
Edit: I am a dumbass. I figured out how to write a Najma part.
Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Staff
Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.
"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."
You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.
Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.
And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.
In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.
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You'd gotten an invitation to Rook's estate in the Sunset Savannah. 
Rook had basically become your son's godfather, though you had to doubt his motives. At first that is.
You'd been suspicious. Of course Rook would want to raise up the next Neige le Blanche. Your son was the spitting image of him, but with the added “bonus” of having your “radiant, glowing eyes.” You couldn't help but worry that Rook was helping you because he wanted to be the one to help polish and prepare the one who would grow up to be the fairest of them all.
Your suspicions had faded over time, as he seemed to be taking a hands off approach, opting to send money, buy food and clothes, and play pretend dad if someone asked questions. He'd visit twice a year, expressing his excitement to simply play fairy godmother to the boy.
Then one evening, long after your son had gone to sleep, you'd sat late into the night talking in front of Rook's grandiose fireplace. The both of you had inched closer and closer, until he'd taken your chin in his hand, and was whispering against your lips.
“I've always loved your eyes. I'd always hoped that it would be my son you'd share them with.”
You laughed dryly. “Perhaps in another universe, there's a boy who looks like Rook Hunt, who has my (e/c) eyes.”
“I hope that Rook treasures him as much as I treasure S/N and his parent. Perhaps you can make the transgression up to me, by allowing me to dote on you, and continue to help raise your son.”
It had been a night where, despite not having drunk anything, you'd felt intoxicated: on eachother, and the firelight, and promises for the future. The next morning, you'd both agreed it was best to proceed as usual. Perhaps, as time went on, you would fall into something naturally. You weren't far off as it was.
A month later was when you'd gotten the invitation to his estate.
Your son was excited as always. And when you'd arrived, Rook had told you he had set up a tea party for you. The door opened, and a pair of arms were wrapped around you.
“Oh my sevens, thank you, thank you, thank you!” 
You stiffened, but didn't have time to react as Neige pulled away, and got down on your son's level, cupping his cheeks, and cooing softly. The static in your ears was preventing you from understanding anything he was saying. But you were the only one out of the four people in this room who was not smiling.
Neige pushed a lock of your son's hair back, and gave him a tearful smile, and you watched as your son skipped out the door. You felt Rook's hands on your shoulders, and it brought you back to earth. He gently directed you to one of the two chairs of the tea party you had been promised. You sat with a thud as Neige took the one across from you. 
You looked up at Rook, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He reached out, and gently brushed one away.
“Do not cry, Mon Trickster”
“Why?”
He smiled softly, yet still had the decency to look heartbroken.
“I cannot stand between soulmates. You can't let true love escape, for someone like me.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Just give him a chance. The beauty the two of you  create together is not something I can allow to get away.”
And then he left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, as you stared at Neige, who practically had hearts in his eyes. He reached across the table and gently took your hand, stroking the back with his thumb.
“I missed you both. So much.”
You bit your lip unsure of what to say.
“Listen, I know I've made some mistakes, but,” he sniffled a little, “I want you back. Please, give us another chance.”
“I don't think-”
“I'm so much better than I was! I hurt you, I know, but I'm not that person anymore.” He got up from his chair, and knelt before you, pressing your hand to his heart.
“I swear on everything I love that I will never hurt you again. I'll be less controlling. I won't fly off the handle. I won't give you the silent treatment when you have to talk to someone who isn't me. Please.”
He knew his crimes. That was a pretty huge step. And as you stared into his pleading eyes, you remembered how much you used to love this man. He seemed so earnest. 
Maybe you could learn to love him again.
“And what if you're lying?” You asked, hoarsely.
“I'm not.”
“A-a trial period. That's all I'll agree to.”
He looked ecstatic as he jumped up, and wrapped his arms around you.
“Thank you. I promise to never make you cry again.”
You believed him. Just like you'd believed him everytime he made you pretty promises. 
But, maybe this time…
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“Oh. Hey Y/N. Meow's it going?” Chenya said as though him shopping at the supermarket you always shopped at wasn't about to send you spiraling.
He reached past you, grabbing the bag of chips on the shelf next to you. You didn't dare move. Sudden movements made him excited. You'd sent your kids to grab something you'd forgotten in the frozen food aisle. You prayed it would take him a while to find it.
“Nya, you have nothing to be a scaredy cat about. I'm just here to shop,” he said with a wide smile, grabbing another several bags of chips. “See, I have a mew family. With an even more purrfect son.”
“Oh, well good for you, Chenya. I'm happy for you,” you said, quickly turning your cart so that you could run if you had to.
He looked at you, face blank. “So, I don't need you anymore.”
“That's so great. I'm happy for you,” you took a step back, trying to decide if you should call someone over, just in case he decided to be wild, just to fuck with you one more time.
“I'm glad. So leave me alone. M’kay?” He said, his face still uncharacteristically blank.
“Sounds good.”
You slowly walked out of the aisle. Once you were out of his eyeline, you ran for your son, and grabbed his hand.
“Forget it, baby, we're just gonna go home,” you whispered.
“But why?” He whined, begrudgingly putting the ice cream sandwiches, that you definitely didn't ask for, back on the shelf.
“I forgot my wallet at home,” you explained, but he didn't seem to be listening. He slowly pointed slightly behind you. Then you felt a tail wrap around your middle.
You looked over your shoulder, but as usual there was no body attached to the tail. You held back a groan. The only way to deal with him was to give him nothing.
“Nya, you were supposed to get insanely jealous!” He whined, and you felt his rough tongue lick up and down your neck, possessively.
“You said you were happy, and that you didn't need me,” you reminded, trying to subtly give your son the eye signal. You'd established it about a year ago. If you gave him that signal, it meant he had to get a grown up to help. Chenya was too unpredictable, so you had to hope that if your son got away, he would actually get help, or he'd be taken care of by a family far away. He turned on his heel, ready to walk, not run, down the aisle, when a hand grabbed his shoulder.
Chenya 's face hovered above the both of you, clearly upset. 
“Where are you going? Bad kitties get bites,” he warned. Your son, who was not related to Chenya, unfortunately had the same feline features and instincts. Upon hearing that warning, his ears drooped, and he looked down at the floor, whimpering.
“Aw! So pwecious! Papa will forgive you!” The tail around you disappeared, as Chenya recorpperated himself before your son, happily squishing his cheeks, and nuzzling their noses.
“Uh, who are you?” Your son asked nervously, looking at you as though you'd have a logical answer.
“That's-”
“Didn't you hear the first time? I'm your papa!” Chenya giggled happily, as he squeezed your son in a hug.
“This man is scary,” he whimpered.
“Chenya, let's just have a chat-”
His eyes turned to you, and you couldn't fight back a gasp. The anger in his face was something you'd never seen before.
“No. No more chats. No more discussions. No more, ‘let’s take a break's’. We are going home right now.”
He floated over to you, his face less than a centimeter from yours. “And, this time, you are going to stay put. Or the baby kitten is gonna be all mine to raise. I don't think you'd like that very much.”
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Your door shattered into a million pieces. And there he was, holding his staff, and looking very displeased with you.
He held out a hand, clearly expecting you to take it. 
“Come.”
You simply sat there, too shocked to even blink, let alone process the command. The fact that he'd found you, meant you were already fucked. Taking his hand would have lessened whatever “purification” punishment he had cooked up for you in your twelve year absence. But you were too shocked.
“How-”
“If you have enough brains to ask questions, then you know you should take my hand, and come home. Before I get angry.”
“We should talk about this-” you began, but cut yourself off as his eyes flashed angrily.
“You had plenty of chances to talk about it. But you chose to act like a child, and run away from your problems.” His staff started to glow, and you swore you saw fire in his eyes. “You have one last chance. Come.”
You stood slowly, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to burn your apartment to the ground, just to make a point.
“S/N is asleep in his room,” you said, taking a step in that direction.
“We're leaving him.”
“What!”
“He was supposed to teach you how to behave. Instead he caused you to be foolish, and run from me.”
“Wait, Rollo, you can't be ser-”
“The child is obviously a distraction. So, he has no use for us.” 
You stared at him, and then ran for your son's room. Rollo quickly caught you around the middle, dragging you towards the exit.
“You can't do this!” You shouted, trying to wrestle from his firm grip. “That's my son!”
“One of your neighbors will see the broken door, and take him in. He is not your son anymore.”
You screamed, and struggled, but, for some reason, none of your neighbors even opened their doors to investigate. He dragged you all the way to his car, no one stopping him. He threw you in, quickly tying you down, before beginning the drive back home.
You continued to scream at him, calling him inhuman, a monster, how dare he separate you from your son? How could he care so little? Your son looked like him, for hell's sake!
“I told you. That boy was a means to an end. And he failed at that end. So I have no use for him. And neither do you. You'll soon forget.”
You snapped at him, and he groaned.
“Oh, just shut up for five minutes,” he muttered, and you found you no longer had your voice.
Ooh, you were steaming. When you had your voice back, you'd let him have it. Then again, so would he. He'd  throw you straight into your punishment, which would probably get worse when he realized your son had been manifesting signs of magic, meaning you needed to be “cleaned”. 
But, at this moment, you realized something. 
If you had to kill this man to get your son back, you were pretty sure you now had the resolve to do it.
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You hesitated a moment, before knocking on the front door. You heard shouting inside, then were greeted by Jamil opening the door. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes widening. Then he groaned, and rolled his eyes.
"Najma, you can relax now. They're back!" He shouted into the house. You winced as you heard her squeak. She came running for you, wrapping her arms around you and her son.
"You gotta start taking better care of your things," Jamil warned her.
"Shut up," she muttered into your neck.
"I'll go tell Kalim to call off the search party," Jamil mumbled, walking past the both of you.
"I'm sorry, baby," you whispered, tears springing to your eyes.
She pulled back, her face furious.
"What the hell, Y/N? You scared me half to death. Where did you go? Why did you leave?" She snapped.
You sniffled, more tears flooding your eyes.
"I'm sorry. I don't know. I just got very scared for a moment. So I ran. I don't know why. I'm so so sorry."
She stared at you for a moment, before she sighed heavily.
"This may be partly my fault," she muttered, but you shook your head. How could this possibly be her fault? She was perfect!
She gently took your son from your arms. You reached back over to take him back, unsure why your stomach was turning, but she softly smiled at you.
"It's alright, Y/N. Come inside."
She walked in, and for some reason your feet felt like lead as you followed her.
"I know exactly what I did. It's not your fault, love," She smiled at you sweetly, but you were doubtful. Didn't you just run with your new son, filled with unspeakable terror, out of nowhere?
She laid your son in the basinet she'd gotten for the living room, then took a seat on the couch, tapping the space next to her. You quickly joined her, laying your head in her lap as she caressed your cheek.
"I thought you were far more adjusted, so I rushed us into the next step. You just weren't ready yet, and it clearly startled you. I'm sorry," she said, a regretful smile on her face.
"That's not true! I'm so ready. I love you and our son so much!"
Her eyes looked so sad, as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"You don't even know," she whispered forlornly, before perking back up. "But, we'll work it out. We're in it now, the only thing to do is move forward!"
You felt lulled under by her gentle caresses, drifting off into a nightmare filled sleep. The last thing you saw, was a bitter expression on her face. Not that you'd remember it when you woke up screaming. You never did.
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flokali · 1 year
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Rollo Flamm taking an unhealthy fondness towards you as NRC’s prized non-magical student. You’re simply so pure, a beacon of light in the midst of tainted monsters who don’t even appreciate all you’ve done for them.
He can’t help whisking you away into a secluded area, where you’ll be safe from the hellish flames that will burn the condemned. His emerald eyes take a glint of adoration as he takes you by the hand and whispers about how wonderful you truly are, praising your abilities to survive in such a putrid environment.
He condemns everyone, blaming them for not taking care of you and seeing you as a tool to fix their problems and you can’t help but let your heart be swayed ever so slightly at his statement. But they aren’t enough to bury the sound of fire and the screams of those outside the safe haven he’s granted you.
“Don’t worry,” he laughs as he sees your terrified look, “they’re simply getting what they deserve.”
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ghostieyanyan · 2 months
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Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.
hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?
~Let the fire purify you~
Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc
Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,
~~~
Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.
How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...
But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...
He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.
With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-
until-
he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.
your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.
~
All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.
to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...
Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.
no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.
~
Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.
when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.
you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.
"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.
"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."
"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"
"w-well.."
It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...
"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."
"hmm.."
Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.
"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"
since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..
"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"
Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.
"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"
the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...
"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"
"Earned..?"
Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.
"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."
you start walking to the door but stopped.
"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."
you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.
"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"
you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.
You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.
~
you had so many questions...
why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.
what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..
how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst
you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..
you started to slowly open your eyes..
where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?
you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..
you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?
you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!
if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.
what happened?! what's going on?!?
you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-
"oh my dear! you're awake."
your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.
"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"
with a heavy chest, you spoke.
"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"
"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"
"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."
you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.
"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."
he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.
You did. you don't really have a choice right now..
"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"
you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.
"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."
you stared at him but he kept smiling.
"magicless.. like me..?"
"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."
you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..
magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!
Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.
"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"
"...mon...ster..."
Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.
"excuse me..?"
you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?
"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."
he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.
You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..
the silence was deafening.
Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.
"take. that. back."
"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."
you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.
"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."
he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.
you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.
After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.
"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."
Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.
you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.
Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.
"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"
when he went to grab your face, he-
"MC!!"
those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..
"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."
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merakiui · 5 months
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crow & goat in courtship.
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yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, coercion, religious symbolism/imagery, mentions of pregnancy, implied breeding kink, obsession, alcohol/intoxication, slight codependency, non-consensual touching/groping, au in which you attend classes at nbc instead of nrc under rollo's supervision note - the crow is always on call.
i. “but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (james 1:14-15).
Rollo answers on the third ring.
He always does—claims it’s polite to answer after three chimes just as it’s right to knock thrice before entering a residence. He’s stubborn in his ways, a crow bound by routine, only ever doing things in threes. Habitual to a fault, strictly so. You are similar in that regard; you find solace in the familiarity of predictable patterns. The relief that stems from knowing what will come next—in being prepared for all manner of events even if you haven’t yet reached the first.
But then you also like fun, and the best sort of fun is often had with a disregard for habit. Disorder and spontaneity. Throwing all caution to the wind. Trusting in the arms of the crow who will catch you, the carefree goat, when you fall.
“Good evening,” he mutters into the phone, his voice sounding so close despite the distance between you and him. “It’s rather late. Is there a specific reason you’re calling?”
“Rollo! Hey! Hiii,” you drawl, grinning like a fool. You stagger through the door into the chilly, starless night, your heels slipping on cracked, frozen pavement. “Whoa!” You stumble against the railing with a carefree giggle. “Almost lost my footing!”
There’s a stalling silence on his end. And then, with a deep inhale, he asks evenly, “Have you gone out?”
“Mm. Yeah. Went out to celebrate with some friends.”
“Some friends?”
“Like one or two…or a whole house full of ’em.”
“(Name).”
“What?” When he doesn’t reply, you laugh. Not because it’s humorous or embarrassing, but to merely fill the silent gap. “What? Roro, you’re sho stern. Don’t lecture me!”
“So you’ve been drinking.”
“What?! No!” With an offended scoff, you shake your head even though he’s not here to witness it. “You know NBC’s no-booze rule. I’m not gonna get caught—won’t get caught.”
“You slurred your speech and called me ‘Roro’—both in the same sentence, mind you.”
“So what? Rollo, Roro. Tomato, potato.”
“It’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. And—” he exhales an exhausted breath— “Never mind. That’s besides the point. Why, pray tell, have you called me at midnight?”
“Why’re you up at midnight?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“Not fair! I asked first!”
“Not quite.” There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks next. “If I were to visit your room right now—knock on the door and wait there—would you let me in?”
“Yeaaah,” you start to say, only to catch yourself halfway in the trap. “No!”
“No?”
“No…thank you. No visitors tonight. S’late and I gotta study for tomorrow’s exam.”
“And a party will somehow aid in that endeavor? (Name), you do realize you’ve spun one too many lies and now you’re woefully entangled.”
“Less poetry and more picking me up.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”  
“Rollo, please be nice,” you whine, your lips twisting into a pout. “S’cold and I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m kinda-maybe-sorta a little…”
“A little…?” he encourages, and you can just envision that self-satisfied smirk of his.
“A little-drunk-but-also-not-really-drunk-but-also-totally-drunk,” you hastily admit in a string of syllables. Snowfall swirls around you, and you grasp the bannister to prevent yourself from falling over. “Oh, it’s snowing.”
“I can see perfectly clear from my window. Beautiful, is it not?”
“So stop being an obtuse dick and come get me before I freeze!”
“Should that come to pass, you may just rival the Righteous Judge at the entrance. I’ll be sure to polish you every month.”
“I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna poison your coffee and watch you drink it, and then we’ll see who’s stiffer than a statue. It’ll be you—in death, y’know!”
“Will you now?”
“If you don’t pick me up, yeah!”
There’s the distinct sound of shuffling. You hear crisp pages turning and then a book closing before the rustling of fabrics invades your keen ears. You picture your responsible friend pacing around his room as he dresses himself for the weather.
“Very well,” he says after a moment, ever the composed gentleman. “Send me the address.”
“You’re the best. Love you lots. Thank you! Thank you!” You press your lips together to mimic obnoxious kissing sounds, which elicits a huff of amusement from him. “It’s not a far walk. Promise.”
“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there shortly. And don’t go anywhere.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“You do realize sneaking out is against the rules, yes?”
“Aaand here comes the lecture. Gimme a break. Can’t a girl celebrate her birthday in peace?”
You drag your hand over your mouth and wipe sticky wine residue away. In the process, you smear black lipstick. Dark like night, like a crow’s inky feathers, it leaves your once-flawless appearance in disarray.
“There are much better ways to celebrate. Did I not say I’d take you into town this weekend and we could celebrate then?”
“That’s so far from now.”
“It’s three days away, (Name).”
“Still too far.”
“Don’t expect me to provide cover if you get caught.”
“And you can just leave campus whenever you please?”
“This is different.”
“Yeah?” You giggle into the speaker, warm and fuzzy and endlessly entertained. It’s enough of a distraction to keep winter from seeping into your marrow. “How so?”
“This is official Student Council business.”
“Really?” you ask with an impressed whistle. 
“Indeed. On account of my being President, it’s only natural I punish students who conduct themselves poorly. Shall we review your list of infractions and decide on a suitable penalty together?”
“I’d rather we not.”
“Oh, but I insist. Perhaps our discussion and the cold will sober you and teach you a valuable lesson about integrity.”
With an exaggerated sigh, you lower onto the step to await his arrival. The icy stone digs harshly into your rear, which is hardly covered by your too-short dress. It’s definitely not fingertip length or weather-appropriate. You shiver and stuff your hand into the pocket of your cropped sweater. You should take shelter inside, where it’s plenty cozy and inviting, but your inflated pride disagrees. Retreating to the warmth after you’ve already bid farewell would be foolish. At least, that’s what the alcohol in your system is telling you.
So the goat endures the cold, for it knows that that is all that awaits it as the crow closes in.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m an academic criminal. Get on with it, President Flamme.”
“Let’s see. You’ve disobeyed campus curfew, snuck out on a school night, attended a party when your grades could use improvement, neglected your studies, drank carelessly, called the one person who can and will punish you for this and the aforementioned…”
The sound of crunching snow pierces the air then, and you look up in time to see Rollo approaching. He’s dressed in a long woolen overcoat with a scarf twined around his throat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He smirks at you from where he stands on the pavement, cutting the call and sliding his phone into his pocket. Tilting his head at you, he pulls another coat from under his arm and offers it to you.
“And you’re dressed for your death.”
“Okay, that one’s personal.”
Rolling your eyes, you rise on unsteady legs. He meets you at the stairs, climbing two of them to help you into the coat. It’s an embrace more welcoming than that of a lover’s, so soft and comfortable that it immediately rejuvenates your weary skeleton. It smells like Rollo, too—like coffee and weathered pages in an old book. You hum your approval, snuggling into the fluffy fabric. He’s plopping his hat on your head next, tugging it so far down that you almost slip on the slick stoop. Like he always has, ever since he first met you, he catches you. 
“Hello to you, too.”
You blink back at him. “Yeah, thanks. I owe you.”
“Let me see your hands.”
He takes them in his, runs his thumbs over the tops, and then procures mittens from his pockets. You watch him slide both over your hands, rubbing them together briefly to generate heat at a faster rate. Your body sways, gaze unfocused. He’s just about to unwind his scarf from his shoulders when you reach out to stop him.
“I’m good. This is enough.”
“You’ll catch your death—”
“And you won’t in just a coat and scarf? At least let me give you your hat back.”
He shakes his head, holding his hand up in objection. “You’ve been out in this weather longer. It’s only fair. But, really, did you have to wait out here? Couldn’t you have gone inside?”
“My pride’s on the line.”
Rollo’s unamused stare cuts through you. “You won’t have much pride left if you’re encased in ice.”
“Then we’d best get moving. Campus awaits!”
You wrap your arm around him, clinging out of instinct. Rollo peers at the proximity, his lips upturned in a covert half-smile, and his arm snakes slowly around your waist in return. You don’t notice this, for you’re too busy dragging your feet through the snow while he acts as a helpful crutch, stable in a way you just aren’t. Not right now, at least.
But then the goat is never stable enough to survive the inevitable—the swift, sacrificial blade that befalls and beheads, leaving gory spatters to run red and visceral in the wake of the end.
You’ve never known, and you never will. How could you when he’s been nothing but cordial? A clean slate. Admirable guidance. A helpful friend. Your only friend.
The crow descends in three knocks. He lets himself in regardless of whether you wish to have him as a guest. He is unwanted and feared, the very foundation of death and destruction, and he has set his beady eyes on you—the goat.
It’s common knowledge that you cannot pray away the crow. He persists, as always, quiet even when his wings beat against his sleek, feathered body like the loudest war drums. And the caw—the dreadful caw! It’s a most disturbing cry, one that pierces through the dark like jarring slivers of light in shadow. Or a butcher’s blade through flesh, sawing through sinew to get to brilliant bone beneath. The hoarse call of Death’s crows—they circle in a murder, swooping down to meet you as harbingers of malevolence.
Rollo has always strived to lead a virtuous existence defined by a rigidly righteous moral compass. In the gloomy pits of misery and hatred, where he festers in a bundle of tar-colored feathers, he does not hope for sunshine. He no longer knows the uplifting ebullience of life’s greatest miracles. Because there is no miracle in death or tragedy. Because there is no happiness to be found in a doomed hand, every card showcasing Death and its many forms. Not for him. Never for him.
But then, amidst the despair and despondency, each all-consuming, a goat fell into his lap.
A divine offering to the crow, who is so far from divinity himself, can only mean one thing. It is neither conciliatory nor a reward.
It is a sacrifice.
But then the City of Flowers adores its goats—reveres them for all that they are. Goats are cherished, not sacrificed. But to drag a nameless, magicless goat from the grounds of its far-off, inconceivable pasture—is that not the cruelest form of sacrifice? To drop this goat into the equitable embrace of the crow—is that not the sweetest gift? Generous yet unfair. Plucked right from the folds of another heaven.
The mortal coil can be callous, which is precisely why the crow is permitted to exist in impartiality. Death does not care for who you were in life and who you will be in the next, and the crow only ever oversees finales. Never beginnings. Much like a deity does not care for what good you can do if you do not first adore them in copious adequacy.
The crow carries with him a most fearsome knell—the chime of judgment, to be delivered right on time like an execution staged for noon.
All throughout life, you can plan for the crow and all that he shall deliver, and still you will never be fully prepared to greet him. He brings misfortune bundled in baskets woven from the bones of sacrifices past. In holy scripture, it is the goat who is punished most often—who is slaughtered at the altar, who is arranged as peace to quell the torrential fury of the deity, who is made to suffer at the hands of those hoping to avoid damnation or godly wrath, who is meant to shoulder the blame when no one else wants to. Favors have been bought with the blood of the goat, its head nestled amidst verdant grasses, pure forevermore even when it is dyed carmine. It appeases and pleases.
So it’s just—religiously so—that the crow takes the goat for himself, strips it bare, and proves to the prying eyes in heaven that the greatest sin is more than lustful temptation.
For the crow—for Rollo—the heaviest sin, a vile, cursed burden from his very first breath—it is existence itself.
And only the blood of a pure goat can wash away such filth—can cleanse what has been rotting within. The goat can make a garden out of the crow—bring life and love to its barren insides regardless of however fleeting its presence may be. It is within this garden—within the softest, fertile soil—where the crow shall sow the most special seeds.
You cross the bridge with Rollo, your laughter filling the cloudy sky as you recall all manner of amusing stories from the past few hours. Drinking games paired with drunken gossip. Delicious wines and snacks. A party with an energy so lively it could rival the city’s annual festivals. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly pleased to hear any of it, he listens well and occasionally stops to steady you before you can topple over the railing into the water below. Your heels clack against smooth, frosted stone, and the wind whips at your face, each snowflake biting and vicious. Noble Bell’s vast campus waits just beyond the wrought iron gate, standing proud and backdropped by the night.
“You think anyone’s up?” you ask, curling your fingers into his arm as he guides you through.
Rollo eases the gate shut. “They might if they hear you. It would be best to keep quiet.”
You pantomime zipping your lips and discarding a nonexistent key. He quirks a small smile at that and then hurries you along. Nights are always peaceful at Noble Bell. The halls are desolate and quiet, devoid of all signs of student life. Your and Rollo’s shoes click in unison as you walk through the hall and past the courtyard. You gaze at the arched openings, counting each one as they become fainter with the growing distance.
Your breath materializes in front of you when you sigh. “I’m so sleepy. I wanna go to bed for a thousand years.”
“You’ll miss your exam if you do that,” he chides, tutting. “And every other exam that will follow.”
“That’s the point!” Your voice bounces off the walls, returning to you in a reverberating echo. Cringing under Rollo’s disapproving glower, you speak softer. “Oops. Sorry.”
“Just how much have you had to drink? You can hardly walk straight without leaning on me for support.” He narrows his eyes, his lecherous gaze crawling down to your bare legs. “Not that I mind…”
His words don’t reach you, for they’re swallowed in a howling gale as it sweeps across the courtyard. You spy the dormitories then, each one looking more like gingerbread covered in confectioners’ sugar instead of buildings dusted with snow. Your eyelids droop while you cross the distance to reach your designated building, your every movement feeling slower than molten molasses, and by the time you’re actually inside the dorm—Rollo’s shushed you more than once—you’re yearning for the warmth of your bed.
So it’s bewildering when, rather than your own room, you stop at Rollo’s instead.
He opens the door and steps inside with you in tow. You keep your mouth shut, too tipsy to think coherently. After he clicks the lamp on, which leaves the room awash in soft shades of amber, he shrugs his coat off, draping it over a nearby chair. You drag yourself over to his bed and flop down, squeezing your eyes shut to block out both the light and your spinning surroundings. Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you hear him shuffling about his room, crossing to close and lock the door before walking back towards you. The mattress dips under his weight, and you feel nimble fingers working to undo the buttons on your coat.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask, cracking your eyes open just as he’s pulling the coat from your person.
Rollo folds it neatly and sets it aside. “You’re practically melting into my bed already. It would be quite the undertaking to make the walk back to your room at this hour.”
“So considerate,” you tease, grinning up at him. Sleep stretches your expression into something dazed, and you yawn loudly. “Then I’m gonna sleep here. Wake me up before class.”
You almost drift off, but those frigid fingers are moving to tug you out of your sweater next. They crawl across your bare shoulders like a spider on a web.
“You really are something,” he marvels, glancing at your body sprawled beneath him. “To brave the cold in such thin material…”
“Stupid choice. I know.”
“It appears we’re in agreement.”
“Shut up,” you snap back with a weak laugh. “You’re no better, showing up so cozy and then giving everything to me.”
Rollo memorizes the way the form-fitting dress hugs your figure. He inhales a shaky breath and brings his hands back to his sides. Your chest is right here. So close. So frustratingly close.
He can’t indulge. He really shouldn’t. It’s unbecoming to show such unfair favorability when he’s meant to remain impartial. Death should not lust for the beauty of life because it only knows endings—or the beginnings of ghostly eternity. The crow should not allow himself to be swept up in tumultuous temptation.
And the goat is the only friend he’s known—the only one who understands the crow, if only by a few meager slivers. But someday the goat will know.
Rollo swallows his inhibitions, beating his urges away with a stick. He’s not one for rash decisions; he’s meticulous and thoughtful. He would never take such a risk—would never nosedive into a crude confession. He’s plotted it in his diary, but it’s never come to fruition. He restrains himself because he must. Because it’s the polite and proper thing to do when caught up in courtship. Because if he opens his torso and allows you to poke around inside, you’ll find that he is not the friend you’ve known for all these months.
He is a fiend, devilishly so, wearing the hide of a goat to put the real one at ease.
Warring with rationality, he slides away from you and intends to recover at his desk. He’ll scrawl all of the things he wishes to do to you in there and that will be enough. That will help clear his head of the intoxicating fog that settles whenever he’s with you in private. But then he’s reaching to untie the canopy draped over his bed, each corner undone within seconds. The sheer curtains fall in thin layers, confining the both of you to this island in the middle of a barren sea. It’s darker in here, dimly lit by the faint glow of the lamp outside.
You blink up at him, owlish.
“You…” He stops himself, shakes his head, and turns away. Hastily, he fishes his handkerchief from his pocket. With this enclosed propinquity, he can smell your perfume. It’s spiced and flowery—alluring and adorable all at once—and it assaults both his nose and mind. “You should sleep. It’s late.”
This is for the best. The crow is only meant to look after the goat, remain unaffected even in the face of lustful, fateful sacrifice.
But you’re here. You’re splayed like a spill, perfectly imperfect, and your shoulders are a canvas coveting kisses. He clutches his handkerchief in a white-knuckled fist.
“Mm, okay. Night…”
“Yes… Yes, good night,” he mumbles, lowering his handkerchief. He swallows thickly.
This is for the best.
But even though he thinks this, his arm is stretching out. Closer. Closer. So close, until his hand is hovering just above your chest. He’s so close.
When will he ever have another chance as fortuitous as this?
His hand closes around your breast and he squeezes it experimentally. It’s soft when his fingers dig in gently, depressing with the pressure of his digits. Rollo’s green hues flick to your face. Your eyes are shut, and soft snores slip from your parted lips. He glimpses your chest again and, with the utmost care, slides your dress down to free your breasts. They’re mostly bare, save for the heart-shaped pasties covering your nipples. Rollo heaves a disbelieving sigh.
“Promiscuous,” he mutters, plucking the edge of the first adhesive and peeling it away to reveal the perky nipple beneath. You look so soft, so clean, so pure… What was he even worried about? No one’s had you before. He’s sure of it.
He’s about to remove the other heart when your voice freezes him.
“What…are you doing?”
He holds your gaze. It’s tense for a moment, unspoken accusations brewing between the both of you.
“A massage,” he blurts, but there isn’t a hint of haste in his tone. He suspected this outcome when he chose to traverse the line of right and wrong—and ultimately sided with the former. Because to him it’s right, even if it’s wrong. He knows what will soon follow: disgust and detestation.
Instead, you giggle. It’s sleepy and silly-sounding, but it’s also light and lively.
You catch his hand in yours and drag it back to your chest. “If you wanted to touch, just ask,” you murmur, your words slurring. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”
You’re not just perfect and pure. You’re everything.
Yes, it’s the alcohol blurring your brain and the intimacy of being trapped in a quiet, comfortable space such as this one that allows you to desire him. Would it be the same if you were sober? He can’t quite say, but he doesn’t wish to know. This is enough. This is paradise.
He kneads slow, steady motions into your breast, and you watch from where you’re lying on the bed. His other hand slithers between your legs to search for your clothed clit. Your breath hitches just as his fingers brush it, and he presses in, rubbing with his index. Your arm falls over your face, and your chest rises with every breath.
“How does it feel?” he asks, rolling your nipple between chilly digits.
“Not enough,” you bemoan, curling your fingers into a fist. “S’not enough…”
“How fascinating. I suppose cheap wine truly does turn you into a pute.”
“No… Was definitely expensive. The fancy kind.”
“Was it now?” He circles your clit, predatory and shark-like, his eyes alight with glee. “You say that, but look at the state it’s left you in. Utterly disheveled.”
“That’s because of—” you gasp, your voice rising in pitch— “because of you…”
His heart hammers in his chest, a resounding, pounding melody.
The City of Flowers treasures its goats, and the crow loves his fiercely even though he shouldn’t.
“Did you enjoy drinking yourself foolish and indulging in debauchery?” His fingers dance along your inner thigh, hooking around the hem of your underwear. “Was it a fun celebration?”
You lower your arm to glare halfheartedly at him. “Someone sounds jealous.”
“More so disappointed, mon chou chou,” he coos, sugary, sickeningly sweet. “Someone could have taken advantage of you. Someone could have tainted you with magic.” His lip curls up into a nasty sneer. It lingers for a moment before fading into something calm. He gazes at you, oddly tender. “That didn’t happen, though, yes?”
You shake your head and flinch when he drags your panties down. Dewy strings of your slick come away with it, and you shudder at your newfound nudity. He hums approvingly and drags his finger through the wet patch staining your panties. Driven by libertine compulsion, he stretches viscous strands of your essence between two fingers.
Your eyes find his deceitful greens once more. Silence sparks between the both of you, quickly broken by your exhalation. Rollo kneels before you, taking in the sight of you as your face wavers through the stages of consideration. Upon arriving at your conclusion, you sit up slightly and shuck your dress over your head. And then you’re lying back, shaking your panties from off your ankle, and wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer. 
You grin, coquettish. “Why not search for yourself if you’re so worried, Mr. Student Council President?”
There’s no turning back. Not that he ever would. Not when the goat’s given him the signal. The blade doesn’t fall, but he does.
And this is better than dreams and erotica. This is real.
He surges forward to fit his lips against yours. Sloppy and inexperienced, he molds himself to your body. You tug him against you, your hands working to undress him. Clothes and shoes are cast aside between open-mouthed kisses, torn off half-buttoned and ripped away from soles. You breathe him in, gasping into his mouth. Translucent strings of saliva connect your mouths when you part, soon broken when you lean in for a chaste peck.
“You’re okay,” he says, the words practically bleeding onto your own tongue with how close he is. “Still as pure as the day I first met you.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“The best thing.”
His third and fourth fingers prod at the depths of your pussy, pressing inwards. Shallow at first. He watches your face unblinkingly, burning every pleasured contortion into his brain, and slides his thumb along your clit. Your breathing staggers, coming in quick huffs, and you grab at the bedsheets to steady yourself. Rollo works you open on those fingers, curling and scissoring in equal measure. The slick squelches join in the salacious symphony you’re currently producing. Every sigh and groan come together in perfect harmony. You’re a heavenly harp, and he’s plucking your strings like an expert musician.
“Tonight is unforgivable,” he adds, and you blink through blissful tears to view him. “Folly is the worst distraction.”
“Then be stupid with me,” you joke, running your hands over his shoulders. He’s so cold. “Warm yourself with me.”
And he will because he’s always wanted to. He’s desired it. Craved it. Coveted it. Thought of nothing else for days and days, each delusion so cyclical it often felt tangible.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his other hand up your hip and towards your rib. He traces the path of where it lies beneath layers of flesh before pressing down to feel it. “So beautiful…”
Your hand glides into his, fingers twining like silken thread around a spool. A lopsided smile lifts your lips, and you preen under him. “Yeah? Am I really?”
“I wouldn’t lie about the obvious…” Your walls hug his fingers tighter then, and a shiver electrifies your nerves. He hums again, quite pleased. “Oh, did you like that?”
“I did. Very much.”
Lashes fluttering against your cheekbones, your head thrown back in ecstasy ever-mounting, you render him ensorcelled. Like a prized Renaissance nude, a goat laid to sacrifice in the crow’s nest, you are beatific. Divinely so.
“Allow me to reiterate then.” He hastens his pace, pumping his fingers relentlessly. You tamp down a shameless moan. “You’re exquisitely beddable. A work of art. Enchanting. Une belle femme.”
You’re nearing the edge—very gradually, but not quite—and so it’s devastating when he slips his fingers out, each one thoroughly coated in you. They shimmer in the dim light, reminding you of where they had previously been.
“Put it back in,” you beg with wide, glossy eyes. “C’mon… Please don’t stop now. Was so close. So close and—”
Your complaints are curbed when you follow his hand as it moves to wrap around his half-hard cock. He strokes himself thrice, using your slick as lube, until his cock is curving up against his stomach. You stare at him; he stares right back.
And then you realize he intends to go all the way.
“Wait, Rol…lo… S’not my safe day,” you say, shifting away. Whether impatiently or anxiously, he can’t tell, but he can certainly guess. Your world spins once, a dizzying blur, before it promptly clears. In the very center of your vision, as he’s always been, Rollo remains. “S’not safe…”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with levity. “I know.”
He’s kept track, dutiful like always.
You attempt to crawl out from under him, but he stops you. Your stomach churns.
“I’ll pull out in time,” he promises, rubbing soothing circles into your plush hips.
Even with the alcohol still buzzing through your system, you aren’t convinced. “N-No, really, we should stop here…”
“You’ll feel so good. Come now, aren’t we nearly there already?”
Rollo lifts your legs onto his shoulders. You squirm with more determination this time, but his fingers dig into your thighs. With a startled squeak, you sink into the mattress, cowed into submission.
“We… We can’t.”
“Why not?” The smooth, soft head of his cock prods curiously at your pussy.
You chew your lip, admitting in a meek tone, “I… I could get p-pregnant…”
“Pregnant,” he parrots, tasting the word as if it’s a delicacy he has yet to sample. His cock twitches. “Pregnant…”
“So… So that’s why…”
“Do you not want children?”
“I… Well… Now is kinda…”
He presses onwards, sinking in slowly. Your breath hitches; your heart stumbles. The intrusion is not entirely unwanted, for your slick, snug walls cling to his shape, and you almost give in to bodily inclination. But it doesn’t feel right. You’re scared. No matter how naturally your body reacts, you don’t want this.
“Rollo, wait—”
“It would be a wonderful thing—to see you rounded with my children.” Rollo props himself on either side of you, his body pinned to yours in sinful, sweaty connection. He exhales a deep breath, restraining himself as he pushes deeper. Patience is a virtue, after all. Your expression tightens with discomfort, and so he peppers your face with placatory kisses. “To see you grow in and—mmh—out of the most flattering maternity wear. To behold every change that blesses this beautiful body of yours… To see you swell with my love, filthy as it may be. Ah, but pregnancy is just as messy… Nevertheless, it shall be a special bond for us—a sacred vow, if you will. We are connected here—” he punctuates this point by slotting the rest of his length inside, and your legs involuntarily close around him to keep him there— “and soon here when life develops within.”
One hand splays across your stomach to pat it with fondness. You choke on your helpless whimper when he rocks his hips once, experimenting with the movement. It’s awkward, but it reminds you that he’s inside. So close to your womb that in just a few more thrusts he might—
“No… No, please… Rollo, you have to—oh—have to pull out. Please pull out. Don’t wanna get pregnant…”
“Oh, but you would be so beautiful.” He breathes you in, savoring sex and floral fragrance. “If I’m allowed one miracle—just one for all the anguish I’ve endured—let it be this.”
You know not of what anguish he speaks, for he’s never verbalized it, but even so it can’t possibly be so agonizing that it would warrant such invasion.
The vise-like hold your velvety walls have on his cock is deliciously addictive. He groans while he ruts into you, his eyelids fluttering. He could be animalistic and cruel in his movements—ravish you as if the world is faced with annihilation and this is his final hour—but instead he settles for exploratory leisure. His hand fits into yours and he squeezes it gently. A feeble protest builds in your throat and so he swallows it with a hungry kiss, his mouth molding against yours.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when he draws back and slides in again, filling you deeper than before. You breathe between kisses, panting and licking into his mouth in even intervals. He does much the same, anchored to you in a way that is both temporary and yet so permanent.
The world narrows down to this single sliver of space, enclosed in a canopy. And in it, laid bare and fertile, the goat is sacrificed to the crow. Death cannot reach either one here. There is only the promise of new life, thrust upon the goat all at once.
You don’t have the willpower to object, for you’ve already found yourself entrapped, so instead you cry. Tears track down your cheeks; your mascara runs with it. Ruined. So, too, is your pitch-black lipstick, smeared along the edges of your lips and printed onto Rollo’s porcelain skin.
Rollo’s hips stutter to a halt and he holds you against him when he spills thick and hot inside. Nothing is wasted; it’s all emptied deep within. If you’re lucky, it won’t take. But if some mischievous fertility goddess has cursed you, you’ll wake nauseous in the coming weeks.
If you have anything worth praying for, it’s the former.
The both of you are panting in the aftermath, but only one is coming down from his glorious high. You remain unsatisfied, your peak not yet breached. Rollo rolls his hips once more for good measure before easing out. You crumple into the wrinkled sheets, frigid and still as a statue. Carved empty and hollow, yet stuffed with sin.
The crow has come. Though this time the gift of tragedy is something between boon and curse.
— — —
The curtains are drawn to let in sunlight. It filters in through frosted glass, each pane stamped with snow, and it blinds you the moment you try to open your eyes. You twist and turn in bed, feeling heavy with hangover. A splitting ache cracks your head in half, and you groan loudly.
“Fuckin’ hell,” you hiss, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “This sucks…”
You force yourself to wake after two more minutes of rolling around. Groaning once more, you sit up in bed. The canopy has been tied back in place, and when you glance sidelong at Rollo’s desk you notice something. A glass of water and a plate are waiting for you, seeming more enticing by the second. You throw the covers off, realize you’re nude seconds later, and promptly snatch them back. They’re wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. You stagger out of bed to check the contents. Two croissants, a single orange, a dollop of strawberry marmalade, and two tablets are arranged on the plate.
Hangover medicine, you realize, lifting one up to scrutinize it.
You peer around the room. It’s empty. And then you see the clock. It’s a little past noon.
“Oh,” you mumble, lowering into the chair. You clutch the blanket closer. “Rollo must be in class.”
Amidst the piercing migraine, which you quickly resolve by throwing your head back to swallow both tablets in a single gulp of water, two things occur to you. You’re in Rollo’s room. Naked. In Rollo’s room. Surely you must have spent the night after you returned from the party. Why are you naked?
But more importantly…
“Shit! My exam!” The excitement doesn’t help your current state, and you slouch in your seat, even more exhausted than before. “I completely missed it… Rollo’s gonna kill me.”
You scrub the sleep from your eyes and reach for a croissant, content with giving up. You don’t want to endure the walk of shame from Rollo’s room to yours. If anyone were to catch you, they’d certainly be left wondering.
As you nibble on the croissant, admiring the way Rollo’s arranged the contents of his room, you spot the edge of something beneath the plate. Perplexed, you push it aside to reveal a note. Penned in Rollo’s effortlessly pretty script, it reads:
I’ll forgive your transgression just this once if you’ll forgive mine. For now, get some rest. I’ve left breakfast here. Stay for however long you’d like.
You scowl at his attempt of ‘breakfast,’ and your stomach rumbles in dissatisfaction.
“Right?” you say to your stomach, clicking your tongue. “If anything, this is hardly a snack.”
But you’re grateful for his efforts. He cares. He always has. From the very first day you found yourself in this world, he cared.
While you peel the orange, pondering foggy recollections of last night, you begin to realize just how sticky you feel. As if someone’s slobbered all over you and left it to dry. The feeling persists between your thighs.
You pause momentarily, overcome with an uncanny sense of panic as you piece the puzzle together. The still-forming picture does not look good.
“Shit…” you whisper, haunted with a fragmented timeline. “What the hell did we do last night?”
You know. The deep, dark part of your brain knows, but you don’t want to confront it. Because Rollo wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t. He’s always done what’s best for you, so he wouldn’t.
Right?
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Note
Could you do Malleus x Yuu or reader, it is in the future when they are married and have a son named (ironically) Tsunotaro. It is the celebration of either Yuus/ reader and Malleus wedding anniversary or their sons birthday. Everyone in the realm is invited/ their old school friends. Their ages normally at first due to his mothers human side and has her hair but the rest they have from their father. (Cute horns and all) Rollo (secret Yandere for them) is in attendance with his son Neige (snow in French) his mother died in childbirth and views Yuu/ reader as a mother figure since they are over at the kingdom quite a lot and play with the young prince. Leona’s son Sonbaai (sun bathe) is starting his first year at Night Raven College is in attendance reluctantly. (Doesn’t share his father’s laziness) the event is sabotaged and chaos ensues. Malleus and his family separated. Rollo set it all up, not giving up his goal from the masquerade event and offers them a place with him if they leave Malleus and their son behind. They refuse and he uses the chaos to trap the two and burn them alive. The reader is clutching Tsunotaro telling them it’s going to be okay as the fire they are trapped in worsens (maybe they are in a room or stuck) Tsunotaro and his mother are saved by either Sebek or Silver. the Queen is in severe condition, but Tsunotaro is unharmed as he is fire proof. They are helped by their Allie’s but the Queen is put into a coma for healing and Malleus wants vengeance and gathers his friends from their school days.
Jealousy Burns |  Yandere Rollo Flamm
Rollo would never hurt you
Or attempt to mortally wound you without guaranteeing your safety
Nor would he jeopardize his appearance in your eyes
Since you’ve met he’s already have the image of someone untrustworthy
But he’s grown and kept in touch with you to build something new
Slowly and quietly biding his time
“Congratulations on your…engagement.”
He’ll stifle it
Shove his anger down to fester and boil as he brews a plan
A plan that will leave you coming to him in the end
But he has to be careful
His enemy is wiser, older, and plenty protective of his spouse more than ever
But he’ll find a way
Find some easily manipulated pawns and begin an orchestra of a kingdom’s demise
It is his passion, afterall
The fire flower now cultivated into another blossom
A different color, a more volatile effect, and a more durable network of roots
He doesn’t plan them 
He has nothing to do with them
…but his followers on the otherhand…
His followers know better than to let his name even leave their lips, magicing themselves dead before they can even be tortured
So when the King and their spawn are rendered nearly comatose by the outbreak it’s easy for those nobles to push the human away
And its so easy for Rollo to open his doors and his aide…in your separate research
“I fear this new plant was a cross breed, with the one I used all those years ago….I am…so sorry.”
“Oh Rollo it’s okay. It’s not your fault!” 
Yes, it’s not his fault at all
So your guard is let down while you have his shoulder to cry on
A drop of mere suggestion as you share a spot of tea
“I’d hate to have your mind full of something so despairing….so how about I help distract you.”
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kikyan · 3 months
Text
Hellfire
Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader 
Words: 9.5K 
A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :)) 
A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))
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The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,
 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you” 
His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them. 
“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 
Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader]. 
“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?” 
“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?” 
“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.” 
“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.” 
“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.” 
“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.” 
[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.  
“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].” 
Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again. 
[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place. 
There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church. 
“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!” 
Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked. 
“[READER]! STOP!”
“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!” 
[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night. 
“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!” 
“What seems to be the matter-!?” 
The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader]. 
“[Reader]! C’mere, now.” 
The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man. 
“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.” 
The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression. 
“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?” 
“Father Rollo, is everything alright?” 
They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door. 
“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?” 
“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,” 
Rollo turned to face [Reader], 
“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.” 
[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward, 
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 
He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure. 
[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet. 
“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.” 
Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam. 
“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.” 
That was the first time they met Rollo. 
Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen. 
“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?” 
The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her. 
“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?” 
At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked, 
“Of course, is that alright?” 
[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded, 
“This way, please.” 
Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his. 
“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?” 
“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?” 
“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.” 
[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to. 
“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.” 
“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.” 
“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!” 
“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.” 
Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled, 
“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.” 
From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community. 
The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind. 
“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?” 
He turned to the voice, it was [Reader]. 
“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?” 
“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.” 
Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.  
“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.” 
Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings. 
“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” 
Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket. 
“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.” 
He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered, 
“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].” 
[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment. 
“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.” 
Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it. 
‘[Reader]’ 
Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins. 
‘ Humans are sinful creatures and  that is why we exist. . .’ 
Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin. 
Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared. 
‘ No doubt lost.’ 
Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband.  She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after, 
“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”  
The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile. 
He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away. 
“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-” 
“Not interested.” 
“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .” 
‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’
Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child, 
“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” 
The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away, 
“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?” 
“I saw my mommy over there. . .” 
The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course. 
[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help. 
‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’ 
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.” 
[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point, 
‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’ 
The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person. 
“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!” 
“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.” 
“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.” 
“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.” 
“Aw, you’re so nice.” 
“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?” 
“Well. . .” 
“Then you’re just too mean.” 
[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk, 
“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?” 
“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”
“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!” 
“Oh, and who is that?” 
“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.” 
“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .” 
“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!” 
“It’s because of their partner!” 
Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation. 
“Their partner. . .?” 
Rollo questioned, 
“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.” 
Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell. 
Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo. 
“It’s been done?” 
“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-” 
“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.” 
The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought, 
“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.” 
Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual. 
“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!” 
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 
The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons. 
“What do you want?” 
Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out, 
“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?” 
“What do they owe you-?!” 
“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?” 
Their partner gulped in fear and nodded, 
“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.” 
They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked, 
“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?” 
“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.” 
Rollo disappeared within the waterways. 
Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face. 
“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .” 
The memory rolled over in his head, 
“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.” 
“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.” 
“Madam, one can never be too prepared.” 
The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms. 
Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door. 
“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!” 
Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held. 
“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!” 
“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?” 
“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!” 
Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner. 
“Y-you!?” 
“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.” 
“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?” 
“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?” 
“W-what? I-I suppose I did?” 
“You suppose? You’re not certain?” 
Rollo questioned them further, 
“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?” 
“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.” 
“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?” 
“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.” 
Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back. 
“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.” 
The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious. 
His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents.  As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief, 
‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’ 
Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties. 
‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’ 
Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible. 
“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.” 
Rollo cleared his throat, 
“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.” 
He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo. 
“Right, to be honest, I’m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.” 
Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.
“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?” 
[Reader] stiffened at the question, 
“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.” 
Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader]. 
“T-tell me, how much you love him?” 
Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat. 
“O-Oh w-well. . .” 
It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on, 
“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.” 
“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-” 
Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust. 
“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.” 
When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke, 
“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.” 
[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants. 
“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!” 
Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them. 
“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!” 
He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up. 
“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!” 
“Have a good night!” 
[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office. 
“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?” 
“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.” 
“Me?” 
“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.” 
[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles. 
“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?” 
“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.” 
“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.” 
“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?” 
The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step, 
“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.” 
[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind. 
“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.” 
As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving. 
“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I  say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.” 
[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change. 
“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”
“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.” 
“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.” 
By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral. 
“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.” 
[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back. 
“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .” 
He let out a chuckle, 
“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met.  You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental,  I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.” 
[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what? 
“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.” 
By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek. 
“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.” 
“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!” 
He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them, 
“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.” 
Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table, 
“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-” 
“[Reader], I love you.” 
Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh, 
“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .” 
Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed. 
“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .” 
The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral. 
“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!” 
Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest. 
“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “ 
Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them. 
“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .” 
Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around. 
“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….” 
Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it. 
“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?” 
“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!” 
Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.
“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!” 
Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself. 
“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?” 
Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them.  [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed, 
“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?” 
Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick. 
“F-Fuck you’re tight-!” 
Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace. 
Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader]. 
“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!” 
Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth. 
“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!” 
“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!” 
With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses. 
“Love you s’much, Rollo.” 
“I love you too. . .[Reader].” 
His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face. 
“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?” 
Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks. 
“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .” 
[Readers] face fell, 
“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?” 
[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics. 
“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.” 
Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words. 
“I love you. . .” 
Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader]. 
‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’ 
This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have. 
A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3 
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fluff-n-fic · 5 months
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Falling Chandelier
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Phantom of the Opera Rollo, don't ask why or where this came from because I have no idea, gn reader and also slight yandere themes? minor spoilers for the event, ive been converted to a rollo kisser and this is a direct result, credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers and such, don't ask how this would happen in the game I have no idea
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The last thing you could remember was the feeling of falling, clinging to yourself, trying to get a hold on anyone else, a hold on anything that could support you, and then black.
And then, now.
A cold dark nothingness slowly turned into a dim glow, an orange you could faintly recognize as you drifted in and out of consciousness. A drifting feeling...
Were you thinking properly? Maybe not, but...
It felt almost as if it was physical, too.
But before you could get any bearings, it once again faded to black, the quiet consuming your mind in it's quest to keep your slumber.
Being woken was not a shock, nor was it the quiet that seemed to have left you althogether. Eyes drifiting open, you seemed to be in a small room somewhere with stone walls, the only light coming from a few candles.
And a figure in the corner.
Whoever they were, they didn't seem to know you were awake.
Shifting, trying to get a better look, under you came squeaks, making the other become aware of your new state.
"There's no need to worry, I won't hurt you as long as you're agreeable."
That voice.
Was it really?
The figure was now moving towards you, making you sure in who it was. The one who had invited you in the first place, the ony who got you into this mess. Rollo.
"There's no reason for you to be put in the situation as the rest of them, you aren't tainted like they are. They could learn a thing or two from you, really."
His words added to the icy chill and you shivered, a mixture of fear and unease seeping in, biting at a your fingers and toes.
"Where... Where are we?" your voice hoarse, you could tell you had been out for a long time, even if only a few hours.
"As I said before, do not worry" He stated, brinfing his hands together as they usually were, "You already know of the canals, don't you? You could say that we're in the center, in the underbelly of the school itself. This place was made for hiding, and it is being used as was intended once more."
Sitting wearily on your elbows, you found it very hard to take this new information as easy as he seemed to think it was. With what little you could muster, your mouth opened, dry, lips splitting barely apart, cracking deep, "The others."
"You have no need to think of them, you are to speak of them as little as possible, and when you do you will address them as what they are, tainted repulsive vermin, do you understand?"
He stared deeply at you, as if you had made a curse on him and his entire family's name. It shouldn't have come as that much of a surprise, considering all of the prior events, but that wasn't something you could think of now. As much as you wanted to say something and defend your friends, in your current state it wasn't possible.
Begrudgingly, you look at him.
"Yes"
While the tension was still there, it did go away slightly. You were at least glad you were safe as you could be, but a feeling of dread gnawed at you just as harshly as his words did.
You couldn't do anything. It was up to the others to come and get you, and to take care of the flowers.
"Very well then. You must rest, it is a regret of mine to let you take such a fall as you did, though there is nothing more I can do now. We will leave very soon, though, for then we can walk down the streets easier, cleaner than before."
He paused, letting the quiet once again seep into you, though gentler in its ways.
That feeling didn't last long. The crash was quit faint, though was still loud enough to wind it's way to the alcove, the unmistakable break of crystal and glass echoing across the chamber and rippling the water.
"That is a good sign. We might leave much sooner than expected, but all the better for you, sleep tight."
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Don't condone yandere in reality, this is just a fictional work and you shouldn't do any of that stuff because it's both illegal and a horrible thing to do. I'm not sure where this falls in terms of that but I'm going to say this just in case and tag accordingly. Can you guess what inspired this in the actualy story :3
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Thanks For Reading!
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spitdrunken · 1 year
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thank you so much for all the rollo content,, highlight of my days, really.. for yan alphabet L, I, H and X? think X will depend quite a bit on whether reader is a mage or not tbh. rather than a sense of worship he’d feel like he’s saving them lol
notes: yandere
i’m glad you’ve been enjoying it :D!! i really like writing for rollo myself <3 a lot of my headcanons differ from mage vs. magicless reader, so honestly it’s always a bit hard to balance them HAHA i tend to focus mostly on magicless reader since mc is one, and otherwise i’d be writing two sets of headcanons for every post. pls feel free to ask for stuff with mage reader tho :3!! 
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
Rollo likes to think of a calm and simple future with you. In a world without magic, where no one will be senselessly harmed any longer, and he’s found peace within himself. After he’s fulfilled his ultimate goal, what more could he hope to achieve with his life? The rest of his days, he could devote to you, and never grow bored of it. He doesn’t want extravagance or excitement, just you would be enough. In his fantasies, neither of you ever has to work or leaves to meet with friends. It’s just the two of you. 
More specifically, he imagines a small, happy wedding, with one chair left empty for his little brother. He imagines living in a small home in the City of Flowers, or a cottage in walking distance from the city walls; he could never go far from his beloved city. Rollo enjoys the thought of himself baking for you, though whatever he makes will likely pale in comparison to the bakeries he loves so much.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Rollo yearns for quite a while, as he believes his personal feelings shouldn’t take precedence over his goal. None of this is your fault, and he is not upset with you for it. As his plans begin to fall more and more into place, he may be more likely to approach you. Before that, he still watches you whenever he has the chance, and zones out if you’re in his field of vision. He has extensive notes on you, your likes and dislikes, your family tree, and all of your social connections. If he’s particularly smitten, you could find yourself having a ‘secret admirer’, leaving letters in flawless handwriting accompanied by a croissant or some local sweets.  
Once he finally makes up his mind to approach you, he can hardly contain himself. His hands are folded behind his back, otherwise you would see how much he’s fidgeting. Rollo’s face is as calm as it would be at any other time. If not for the blush creeping onto his face, you wouldn’t be able to tell anything was amiss. 
“May I have a moment of your time?” He would say, lightly bowing his head. Rollo would ask you out on a date, or an ‘outing’ as he calls it, promising to show you all of the beauty the city has to offer, and ensuring you’ll enjoy yourself. 
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Sweat beads on your forehead, despite your distance from the fire. Rollo is pressed against your back as he leans his full weight against you, his chest stuttering with how fast he’s breathing. He’s clutching the railing so tightly that his knuckles are white. Below you, the world has descended into a hellscape of flames, yelling, and raw desperation. Some of them are your friends, and some of them you might not have known as well, but still- You cannot believe they were deserving of this fate. He presses his face against you. Rollo is shaking all over, and so does his voice.
“As foolish as they are... These villains’ salvation is truly a beautiful sight to behold, isn’t it?”
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
You are different from him. Where he is inherently cursed, burdened by magic, you are pure and clean existence. The sinner, and the saint, extending their hand to him in their endless mercy. Though he wouldn’t go as far as to directly worship you, he very much considers you as more valuable and worthy than himself. Even once he is fully ‘cleansed’, he’d continue to be hard on himself when it comes to you. He takes your opinion of him very, very seriously. 
If you were to deny him, you would really be putting him in a tough position. Rollo feels guilty about placing the burden of his feelings on you, but he can’t rid himself of them either. You’ve rooted yourself in his mind, and he cannot get you out. He would try to become friends with you instead, trying to convince himself that it would be enough, all the while lying to himself. Rollo would constantly be teetering on the edge of giving in. There would come a moment he would snap and give into temptation, apologising while he does so and forever cursing himself, but secretly being glad to finally being able to touch you.
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