TWST Rambles #2

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE (ESPECIALLY MY ABABY KALIM I JUST WANNA EAT THIS WHOLE ART PIECE)

Dorm heads after school

at first I was just gonna draw malleus but decided nahhh, I wanna draw all the dorm heads chilling on cool chairs, unwinding after classes are done

AGHAGHFFFJK AHHHHH OMGGGG WOWOWOWOW

sypnosis. a queen waits for the return of the man who promised he would always come back. her lover, who disappeared years ago chasing an adventure only he could see. the court demands a king, and suitors press in, but she remains unmoved, weaving a shroud of time until he returns. then, a challenge: whoever can string her betrothed’s bow and fire an arrow through twelve battle-axes will claim the throne. the suitors fail, but the beggar steps forward, rook, disguised. the bow bends, the arrow flies true, and rook stands before her, alive, and home at last.

note. i was listening to “the challenge” and thought of rook, stupidly enough cause of the bow & i immediately thought of “rook would love this” but you get it ^^’’ !!! immediate apologies if it may seem ooc, or off grammar (unfortunately, english isn’t my first language)

𝕿He. . . loom stretches before you, a seemingly endless web of threads that twine and twist in complex patterns. It feels like an impossible task, one you can never quite complete. Each morning, your fingers move with purpose, the rhythmic motion of weaving pulling you deeper into the task, a desperate distraction from the ache in your chest. Each night, when the rest of the castle has drifted into slumber, you return to the loom to unravel the threads, as if in some way, that will erase the time that’s passed — the time that you’ve been forced to endure without him. They do not know. The suitors who fill your court like hungry wolves — bright smiles and velvet robes hiding the sharp edges of ambition — believe you are near the end, that soon, you will choose a new king.

But you are still his.

He left you years ago, chasing a challenge that only he could see. The great hunter, the man who had seen beauty in every fleeting moment, had sworn to return. His final words still echo in your memory: “Mon amour,” he had whispered, breath warm against your temple, hands pressing over yours. “I leave not for adventure, but for the promise of coming home to you. What is love, if not the patience to wait?”

But patience is cruel, and faith wears thin when it is constantly tested by the long silence between you. The world does not stop spinning while you wait for a man who might never return. You have held your breath for years, hoping against hope that the promise he left you would hold true, but as the days turn into months, and the months into years, you begin to wonder if perhaps the sea has swallowed him whole.

The kingdom stirs. The whispers grow louder each day. It has been too long. He is gone. A queen cannot rule alone forever, they say. And so they press closer, thousands of men draped in velvet and gold, smiles dripping with false sweetness, eyes gleaming with greed. They speak of duty, of stability. They speak of the future.

But what of the past?

The love you held for Rook is not something fragile that can be traded away. It is not a thing to be bartered like the throne you sit upon. And yet, the court grows impatient, the vultures circling, waiting for their moment to swoop in.

“Your Majesty,” one of them says, his voice smooth as silk, his hand lingering too long on the armrest of your throne. “The throne needs a king.“

“A nation without a ruler is weak,” another murmurs, his eyes glinting with something more dangerous than mere concern. “Choose, and we will grant you peace.”

Peace? How.. humourous. As if the love you hold for Rook could ever be bought, as if it were something to be sacrificed to ease their hunger. As if you are not the woman who has held the kingdom together, the queen who ruled with strength and wisdom while he was lost to the world. But they do not understand. They never have.

Still, they will not stop.

So, you buy yourself time. But, is it for yourself?

“I will choose,” you say, your voice steady, betraying none of the chaos inside. “As soon as I finish weaving this shroud.”

They believe you. And so, the cycle continues.

Day after day, you sit at the loom, hands moving with mechanical precision, the rhythm of the work a small comfort in a world that no longer makes sense. You tell yourself that you will be free once it is finished, that once you have completed the task, you can let go. But every night, you return to unravel the work of the day, pulling the threads free, watching the promise of completion slip away like sand through your fingers.

And unexpectedly, the storm will come by.

Huh, the weather today.. seems peculiar. I wonder.

You thought, the sky today looks unlike anything you have ever seen, dark clouds gathering on the horizon, the sea thrashing wildly as though it too were in mourning. The wind howls, rattling the castle walls, and in the darkness of that night, something shifts in the air, a whisper, a possibility. Could it be—?

No.

But still, there is a flicker of something. Was it hope? Something that makes your pulse quicken, something that stirs in your chest and makes your breath catch in your throat.

You do not sleep that night. The next morning, the court is restless, but you do not care. Another suitor has arrived. You barely glance up at first, prepared for the same hollow flattery, the same empty promises they have all offered. Another face, another man desperate for the throne. And then—

“Your Majesty.”

The voice is low, rich, unmistakably familiar.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

You lift your gaze, and the breath leaves your lungs.

There, standing before you in the grand hall, disguised as nothing more than a beggar? A tattered cloak hanging from his shoulders, boots caked in dust, golden hair hidden beneath a hood, is him.

Rook.

“Mon amour,” he breathes, and it is neither a plea nor a question. It is a vow renewed, a promise fulfilled.

The court does not understand why your fingers clutch the armrests of your throne, why your breath trembles in your throat. They do not understand the weight of this moment, the storm that has raged inside you for years, breaking now into sunlight.

But they will.

“A challenge,” you announce, your voice ringing out through the hall, silencing the murmur of voices. “The one who can string my betrothed’s bow and fire an arrow through twelve battle-axes shall take the throne beside me.”

The suitors laugh. They know the stories of Rook’s war bow — the weapon only he had ever been able to wield.

The bow itself, was a testament to strength, a mark of kingship, a relic of a past only one man could claim. Crafted long before his reign, it was a thing of unyielding power, curved in a perfect arc. Only he can wield.

One by one, they step forward, pride on their faces, convinced that they, too, can master the impossible. One by one, they fail. The bow does not bend to their hands. The string does not yield. Each failure cracks their pride, their frustration mounting as they realize that they are not Rook.

And then, the beggar steps forward. The court erupts into laughter.

“Surely, Your Majesty, you do not mean to let this vagrant attempt—”

But you do not stop him. You do not move, barely even breathe as he steps forward, his hands brushing against the polished wood of the bow, a deep, knowing silence settling over the room.

With a swift movement, the bow bends. The string sings its familiar song as he draws it taut, the echo of it resonating through your very bones. You can feel the air shift, the energy in the room snapping like a taut wire.

The arrow flies.

The sound of it is pure. Sharp and true, slicing through the air with deadly precision. It whistles cleanly through each of the twelve axes, the force of it a declaration. A promise.

Silence.

And then, he lifts his head. The hood falls away.

Rook stands before you, golden-haired and smiling, as if no time at all had passed. As if he had never left.

You take a step forward, your breath catching in your throat, but you do not move too quickly, afraid that he might vanish as suddenly as he appeared.

“You’re late,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but it carries through the silence like a blade.

Rook’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with the same wild fire you remember. “Ah, mon amour,” he breathes. “But I am here.”

And then, he kneels before you.

The years between you crash down like a tidal wave, the weight of everything you’ve endured settling heavily upon your chest. You do not hesitate. You move toward him, your hands trembling as they find his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes closing for a moment, as if memorizing the feel of you, the texture of your skin beneath his fingers.

“I should kill you for making me wait,” you whisper, your voice breaking with the ache of all that has been lost and found again.

“And yet,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your wrist, “you have never looked more beautiful than you do now, in your fury.”

You let out a breath, half a sob, half a laugh. But it is enough. It is everything. You pull him to you, your lips crashing against his, desperate and alive, the years of longing melting into this single, fleeting moment.

The court watches, but you do not care. The suitors recoil, but you do not see them. There is only Rook. his hands in your hair, his arms around you, the warmth of him solid and real after all these years. When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours, and the world is suddenly right again.

“You came back,” you whisper, a question, a plea, a confession.

“Always,” he swears, his voice rough and raw. “I will always find my way back to you.” This time, you believe him.

That night, the castle breathes with a new kind of silence. The suitors have left, some in anger, others in shame, their ambitions shattered like glass beneath the weight of inevitability. The whispers of the court fade into the distant hum of the sea, and for the first time in years, you are alone.

But you are not lonely.

Rook stands before you in your chambers, no longer the beggar who had slipped unnoticed through the doors, but the hunter who had once stolen your heart with laughter and reckless devotion. He is older now —sharper in some places, softened in others — but when he smiles, it is the same as it ever was. Wild and knowing, like he has already mapped out every thought in your head before you can voice it.

And yet, for the first time since his return, he hesitates.

“You are staring, mon amour.” His voice is lighter now, teasing, but underneath it, there is something else. Something unspoken.

You cross your arms, tilting your head. “You disappeared for years, Rook. Forgive me if I wish to confirm that you are not merely a ghost come to haunt me.”

His lips twitch. “And if I were?”

“Then I would curse you for eternity,” you say, stepping closer, until only a breath separates you. “And still, I would not let you leave.”

The teasing falters in his expression, giving way to something raw, something that makes your pulse thunder in your ears. His hands, calloused and sure, come up to cradle your face, his thumb ghosting over the curve of your cheek. “I was gone too long,” he admits, a confession, a wound.

“Yes.”

“I have no excuse.”

“No.”

His fingers tighten, the breath in his chest shuddering. “And yet—” He swallows, eyes burning gold in the candlelight. “Would you still have me, knowing that I am a man who loses himself in the hunt?”

Your breath catches. Not because you do not know the answer, but because he would even dare to ask.

You take his hand, pressing his palm flat against your chest, where your heart beats strong and steady. “You left,” you say. “And I waited. And I cursed you. And I wept for you. And still—” You inhale, exhale, let the weight of the years settle between you before crushing them beneath your next words. “Still, my heart knows only your name.”

Rook lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, but it is too broken, too relieved to be anything but the unraveling of something long-held. “Then it seems,” he murmurs, leaning in, his forehead pressing against yours, “I have found my way home after all.”

He kisses you, it is not with the desperation of before. It is steady, certain. It is the promise he made you all those years ago, at last fulfilled.

© 2025 padf-0-ot . i only post in this app ^ᴗ^

My New (other) Blog!

Recently took a break from writing and kinda left my blog for a bit. I will be returning writing for twst as soon as I regain my lost motivation.

Anyways, I've been rewatching old sitcoms I used to as a child- the silly ones from Disney, and I've been completely OBSESSED with Max Russo from 'Wizards of Waverly Place'. So much so, I had the motivation to write again- a fanfic at that.

I created anew blog for it, in which I will be writing various stories/fanfics based on my childhood sitcoms. If you guys are interested, check it out!

My new blog: brownieblob

If you wanna jump straight into the fic: Be Careful Not to Mess With the Balance of Things (this is the introductory post and chapter one is linked on it)

Thank you, enjoy!

LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEE

Feeling rather proud of this one. I offer it as a DTIYS challenge!

I doubt it's original at all but..when I showed another wip of this piece to my qpp.. Prince Riddle AU.?🌹👑

It's Only You

Sebek Zigvolt x GN!Reader

Synopsis: You'd never thought how difficult it could be to love someone without receiving affection back. The daunting realization of your unrequited love led you to leaving him. You never meant much anyways- you were always just there and he was sure you'd return. Time flew by as he waited for your return.

TW: Angst, mentions of death, depression, mentions of unhealthy relationships.

The pitter and patter of rain filled the silence enveloping the room. It was unusual for Sebek to be so silent for he was usually so boisterous, if not impulsive. Whether he was enraged, content, or glum, he was always loud- reckless. It was odd- this thick, suffocating silence that pierced through your skin. A shiver traveled down your spine, your lips forming a thin, straight line.

"Sebek, I said something."

You spoke up, as if offended by his lack of reaction. Never once was he so apathetic. You expected more, much more by an individual who was usually so reckless, so volatile. If not verbally than through expressions, you wanted a reaction- it was a given, you confusion, considering this side was something you'd never seen, no one had ever seen. Yet, there was no response merely a wide-eyed gaze he sent your way.

"If you won't respond then I guess the feeling's mutual."

You spoke up once more, irritation present in your words. A sigh left your lips, his olive gaze still fixed on you. It wasn't as if he didn't speak to spite you- no, it was quite the opposite. He was speechless. Everything was fine, nothing was out of place- both of you were alright, perfectly content together. Then why had you just said you wanted to end it? Was your relationship that meaningless? Did he mean nothing? Was your bond that fickle?

The rain continued to pour down as you packed, taking your things one by one. You presence vanished little by little leaving him alone- in solitude. He stood in the same spot as you removed yourself from his life- his home. His eyes were glassy, not that you noticed.

"Goodbye Sebek."

That was the last thing you said before leaving, suitcase in hand.

He came back to his senses, his voice returning to him as the door shut with a loud 'thud'. He called out your name several times, shouting at the top of his lungs. As if to mock him, the rain pattered against the windows even harder, silencing him. Without a thought he ran outside, his usually neat hair now wet and tousled. His eyes searched for you, his heart drumming inside his chest- his throat was raw from screaming, his vision blurry. His body was soaked, his tears camouflaging- becoming one with the drops of rain. His body shook, a shiver running down his back; it was now he realized that you had left. It wasn't a nightmare, nor a delusion, and it definitely wasn't a joke. This was reality.

Even if he found you, begged you to stay- your answer would remain the same. You were tired. You were sick of being a second option- no, a last resort. Someone or something always came before you. Whether it was his loyalty for Malleus or his affection for knighthood. You were never number one. Frankly, you had been alright with that, knowing your relationship with Sebek was fairly one-sided; you'd begged for his love, had you not? In his eyes you had. Not that he didn't care at all, but just not to the level you did. You were useful to him, always there when he needed you to be. Never once did you think of your own needs- neither did he. That was until you did. There was only so much you could ignore before you felt lonely- alone.

No matter how selfish it sounded, you wanted to bask in his affection. He was your spouse, wasn't he? He made vows to you, didn't he? He was your soulmate, was he not?

Then why were you ditched for his loyalty to Malleus? Then why had he made it clear that you could be replaced, Malleus couldn't? Then why were you never never first- not once?

Why didn't you mean anything to him, who meant everything to you?

Your love was unrequited, to an extent at least. You knew you had agreed to something of this sort upon falling for him- yet this daunting realization hurt more than you wanted it to. You wished for everything to go back to how it was- you wanted to be blind once more. You wanted to unsee this new vision, to go back to your old perception of reality.

You wanted to mend this broken relationship. As if you were a child who had just noticed that life was not, in fact, perfect you tried convincing yourself that it was. You were better off believing in the false perfection of the world- of your relationship. You didn't want to believe that he didn't care. You were not being neglected. You couldn't be.

You just had to communicate, that would fix everything.

You spoke up, he didn't listen. You spoke up once more, he had better things to do. You spoke up again and as expected, he couldn't care less.

It poured down as you spoke up for the last time, this time adding that you were simply leaving. His opinion didn't matter anymore- too many chances had been missed. You weren't a doormat, not any more.

You waited far too long for someone who wouldn't come around. That realization daunted upon him- he was guilty of a crime he wished he hadn't committed.

His body coiled up, quivering as his garments clung to his skin. He sat on the wet road, the sky darkening as the rain roared down. His eyes were fixed on the ground, shameless tears trickling down his face. If Malleus saw him like this- no, if anyone saw him in such a state, he wouldn't mind. He was confused to have such thoughts- he should mind, should he not? You were gone. It shouldn't affect him so much, not at all. What were you? A spouse, but only in name. Then why did his heart pang so loudly? Why was your sweet voice playing in his mind? Why was it now that he saw your pain? Why now, when it was far too late?

His life was different from there on. You had an affect on his life and took on such an important role, yet never realized - if you had, maybe you wouldn't have left. He wished both of you had remained blind, playing house forever- no matter how suffocating it got. Maybe then he wouldn't be so melancholic.

Days passed by.

His halls were empty, signifying his solitude. The little knick knacks you used to keep were gone, those stupid little hand-drawn doodles he used to find on random pieces of paper were all in the past. The times you cooked for him, no matter whether he he liked it or not- he missed it. The scent of your shampoo never lingered around the house anymore, neither did the sound of your sweet voice.

He would stand at the door everyday yet no one came to greet him once he returned home, neither did he have anyone to greet. No one played music that hurt his ears anymore- he never thought he'd miss that. He still made portions for two everyday, leave it on a plate only for the food to go stale. He still clung onto the last bit of hope that you would return- that he wouldn't have to be alone. Yet, everyday you proved him wrong.

Weeks passed by.

Was this how you felt? Was this how your heart ached? He wished he had listened to your rambles, that he'd paid attention to whatever stupid show you used to watch. Maybe if he had then he could watch those shows to remind himself of you- yet he didn't remember. He never thought he could cry so freely, never once had he been someone so sensitive. What else could he even do? There was no one to scold, to scorn at to scream at- he was rendered silent within these walls, isolation along with silence were his only resorts. He had lost his old self, grief took over his previously exuberant self. "He deserved it", he thought.

Your separation from him was his separation from himself. His memory of your was the only thing keeping him going. Every little thing you used to do reminding him of his mistakes, of what could have been. He'd underestimated your worth- he'd underestimated how irreplaceable you were.

Months passed by.

His previous priorities became second while you became number one. The only difference was that you weren't there to witness that. Wherever you were, away from him- you were happier. At least he hoped you were. His door was always open for you though, his heart too. Maybe if he'd cherished you, he wouldn't have lost you.

Despite all his lingering thoughts, he'd realized it was just "if's" now. There was no mending what he'd broken and there was no apologizing for what he did, not when you had clearly severed ties with him.

Was it illicit to hope you'd crawl back to him? That you'd beg him to take you back? It was wrong and he knew it but he couldn't help but delude in such thoughts despite knowing the only one who who'd beg for the other would be him, as of now. Though, he didn't mind begging if it meant you'd return. He knew he was being delusional- you'd never return. He knew that was the best for you, for if you did return- he wouldn't be able to let go no matter how difficult it got for you. He might've gone mad.

A decade passed by.

Years later he saw you, clinging onto another man as you pranced around at a store- one you used to speak of quite often as if urging him to take you. He never did.

As you and the unknown man walked inside the store he couldn't help but follow, silent as ever as he simply observed. He broke the moment he saw you picking a suit for the man beside you. You weren't his and maybe you never were.

He walked out of the store, his eyes stinging as he returned home. You weren't there waiting for him and no one ever would- he wouldn't replace you, not that he could. That would be another insult to your name.

He stood near the same window, on the exact spot where he watched you leave. Just like that day, it was pouring and the room was silent. He called out your name a few times, hoping you'd appear. Was he mad? Surely. Maybe he should drink again- doing so could help him hallucinate of you and if not, at least it would numb the pain.

He sighed as he sat down.

You were incomplete when with him while he was incomplete when without. You meant more than he had previously thought, so much so that it was only you he wanted to live for and with. If that was impossible, why live at all?

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: I hope Sebek wasn't too fanon/off, I just really wanted to explore a different side.

Note 3: Any unhealthy behavior depicted in this fic is not condoned nor encouraged by me. If you are facing any mental/physical abuse, please seek help immediately!

PART 2 OF "I LOVE YOU" IS GONNA BE UP TOMORROWWWW (I DONT THINK ANYONE'S GOANN READ THIS)

Edit: i dont know if ppl looked at this post but it's up guys

Bumbling Fools

Kalim Al-Asim x GN!Reader

TW: None, just fluff!

The sun set in the west, illuminating everything an ethereal golden. Pretty garnet eyes sought you through the nearly vacant halls, a fumbling grin plastered across his lips upon noticing you.

He sped towards you, in his hand an opulent card perhaps an invitation that he longed to hand over to you. His eyes shimmered with a sort of childish joy as he took in your features once more. A nervous grin danced across his lips, one he wishes would simply leave, as he parted them to speak.

"Prefect.." He said hesitantly, a sort of reluctance present within his voice, eyes glancing over you nervously as if you'd shun him away.

"Please come to my party, won't you..?"

He said, the words finally slipping out of his lips, an elated sigh leaving his lips after he could finally rid himself of the anxiety he felt. His hand practically slammed into yours as he quickly placed the card into it, a skittish chuckle following suit. It was a rare sight honestly considering Kalim was not a shy person, ever. In fact, he was the most extroverted person anyone might've known.

Needless to say, you were a bit confused by the sudden hesitance in his voice, something you were recently seeing build more off. Luckily for him, your obliviousness to such things was a blessing. At least it would be if he himself knew of his feelings, for he was oblivious to them.

It was honestly laughable how his sunny persona would fade into a stuttering mess in mere seconds upon the mere mention of your name. It was something even he couldn't pinpoint himself.

Thankfully, you couldn't either.

Upon gazing at you, he felt even more confused. He didn't know why but whenever he saw you, he felt as if he was messing everything up. But even if he was, just why did be care so much?

He didn't like the feeling, but at the same time he couldn't help but relish in your presence, in your company. He was confused, he couldn't comprehend why speaking with you made him into a bumbling fool, why his words would come out funny, and why his face felt so awfully warm. Maybe he'd figure it out if he saw the fluster of his face, the deep blush of his cheeks.

"It's nothing big this time, I promise. It's not even a party really...just some time in Scarabia, you and me, alone..?" He asked, his voice shaky, crimson eyes holding only admiration as nervous words spilled out of his lips.

He felt stupid, and it felt worse because he didn't even know why. It wasn't as if he said something dumb, not that he'd know what you'd consider dumb as you did always humor him. So why was it that whenever you came into his vision, his heart would race so incredibly fast? Why would his words come out either too slow or too fast?

And, just why was his mind clouded with one singular thought?

The need to engulf you in his arms, bask in your comforting warmth as he worshipped your very presence. The desire to spend time with you, alone, away from others. The childish want to be able to cuddle you, hold you whenever he pleased. The yearning to be able to call you his, kiss you like a prince would in a dreamy fairytale.

Was he going mad? It was surely that.

Jamil was right, he was an idiot, an idiot who was going mad and was somehow fixated on you. That must've been it. And for the most part it was, he was an idiot but not the usual deranged fool.

He was just another idiot in love, something he didn't realize himself.

He was awoken form his frenzy of thoughts as you suddenly spoke, a cheery tone surrounding your words as you looked at him so fondly. For some reason, that made him so awfully happy, so content.

"That's very sweet of you Kalim.." You started, eyes crinkling as a soft smile played at your lips, hands gently holding the opulent invitation. You opened it, reading the contents serenely.

"I'd love to go, and we can definitely stargaze together.." You said, a giggle following suit as you referred to the part of the invite in which he asked if you'd like stargazing. You did think it was a bit peculiar how he brought an invitation that didn't include a time, but the idea itself was quite endearing.

His eyes immediately lit up, the nervousness engulfing him almost disappearing. Almost.

"Let's go then, I'll even get Jamil to prepare some sweets for us..Oh! And we can go on a carpet ride too..!"

His words were so beautifully endearing, as if they conveyed how much he liked you, how much he cherished any of the time you both spent together. His hands fidgeted together as he awaited your response, innocent eyes gazing into yours with a gleeful smile painted across his lips.

"Then, let's go. It's been long since I saw the Scarabia moon.." You spoke, your words gently touching him at the positivity.

"And I'll definitely take you up on the offer of Jamil making some sweets.." You said, a childish chuckle escaping your pretty lips. His eyes only fixated on you; how ethereal you looked as the golden rays of sunshine basked you in their fleeting form. It was as if his breath was taken away from him, a breeze tousling his pristine hair as he only stared.

Then you both walked, his body following behind yours as if you were the one inviting him over. He could only stare, words not daring to leave his lips, sealed away in his heart. He might've finally understood what this gut wrenching feeling may have been, and he was so awfully scared of rejection.

His hand gently cradled yours upon arriving at Scarabia, Jamil sighing in relief upon Kalim's return. Curt greetings were exchanged between all of you, Kalim practically hugging Jamil when he already had sweets prepared. Kalim then whisked you away, one hand eagerly holding yours, hoping you'd dismiss it while the other held the tray of snacks.

There you both sat, underneath the stars as you exchanged words, laughter surrounding the room as the stars twinkled so brightly. You twirled underneath the celestial trinkets decorating the sky, the sweet hum of a song escaping your lips.

You looked up, gaze fixed on the stars while he looked at you, staring as if you were the stars.

He didn't know how he suddenly gained the courage, but he did. His hand held yours, bodies close next to each other as you danced underneath the glittering stars, no words were exchanged as soft music played in the background.

Garnet jewels were fixed on you, shimmering so beautifully. His pristine white hair was tousled so perfectly, his headband and ornaments jingling as you both moved. A sheepish smile danced on his lips, mischief hiding underneath the nervous grin. He hoped to not mess this up, to not mumble out a stupid phrase.

He only hoped to let this moment keep going on, make it timeless.

Maybe it was how the both of you danced or maybe the close proximity, but now he knew it. He was an idiot, not a deranged fool but a lovesick idiot.

And he loved it, because being in love with someone like you was nothing short of an honor.

Soon, his hands tightened ever so slightly around your waist, your eyes widening as his head rested in the crook of your neck. The movements were slow as he carefully guided you to a divan. The room was lit only by the stars and the gleaming moon, his tresses of white matching with the celestial bodies.

The same sheepish smile returned to his face, shyness hidden not so discreetly as he simply held you. It was a fragile moment, a gentle one. It felt nice, his eyes holding the purest form of what you could only register as admiration for you. A blush, the color of his eyes, now adorning your cheeks as the usually sunny boy held you like some prince in a fairytale.

"Prefect, I think I love you.."

His words were boyish, a childish smile adorning his lips. The roles were switched, now there he was acting so carefree while all you could do was fumble upon the sight of him. Your eyes could only widen at his words, your gaze averting to anything but him as you struggled to focus.

Then it happened, a magical moment, one which you could only describe as whimsical.

He leaned closer, ever so slightly, your hand in his as he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. A playful smile was etched across his lips, eyes studying you as if you were the most precious treasure one could lay eyes upon.

"May I..?"

He asked, leaning closer once more, this time to your lips. His free hand now held the back of your head, fingers spun around your locks. You nodded slowly, a little confused and a bit too flustered for your liking.

His lips finally met yours and everything seemed to stop. Your eyes closed and so did his, your face flushing more than you knew it could. The soft music in the background only made this moment even dreamier than you could imagine. His gentle hands carefully caressed you, his fingers locked around your hair as his other hand interlocked with one of your own.

The kiss was a fleeting one, one that was so awfully pure that it made your heart yearn. Both of your eyes opened at the same time, a blush coating both of your faces as he looked away in embarrassment. He turned his gaze back at you slowly, hoping he did the right thing. His hand was still interlocked with your own while his other one left your hair and was now caressing your cheek.

"Prefect, you are far sweeter than any of Jamil's sweets.."

He said, an endearing smile on his face as you only averted your gaze, forgetting to even speak. He made you feel so fuzzy, so blissfully dreamy that you couldn't help but lean into his embrace, closing in any space between you.

He was an idiot in love but his foolishness was infectious, infecting you so quaintly.

Now there were two idiots in love. Two little bumbling fools.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post and reblog! Thank you! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated!

Note 2: Kalim is the love of my life (づ > ᴗ < )づᡣ𐭩

(Edit) Note 3: Just edited it and proofread it :)

If you like someone's writing, art, or any other type of work they create- you should let them know. Be it through a comment, a follow, a reblog, a message, or an ask. A little reminder that their work is appreciated means so much. If you have requested something, just a like isn't enough- it's insulting. A simple "thank you" also does so much. Not to mention, how motivating it is, as a writer, to see people enjoy my works. If you like it, express it.

Kindness really goes a long way, it might just motivate your favorite writer/artist/etc to create something new.

-Brownie

Sweet Dreams

Lilia Vanrouge x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Lilia was certainly strange, visiting you out of the blue- saying things you could easily mistake for something loving. Truly, he was peculiar. Yet, it wasn't yet another prank- he had his reasons. After all, he couldn't see you suffer. Thus, he didn't let you suffer. With a sweet song and a bit of magic, you were lulled into his comforting arms.

TW: None, just fluff! (a little bittersweet at the end though, maybe-)

A serene morning; raven's cawing outside, Grim yawning as he clings to you, and the ghosts chattering outside your room. This was the usual for Ramshackle mornings, well except for the questionable singing outside. You'd just awoken, lashes fluttering open as you tried to pry Grim off of you. You sighed as his form wouldn't budge, sleepy rambles of tuna spilling from his mouth.

You stretched your tired body trying to accommodate to the chilly morning. Still, what was that strange noise- no, singing outside? It wasn't ghastly, quite the opposite actually. it sounded as though someone was singing lullabies- whoever it was must've been confused about the time of day, it was clearly morning.

Raising a brow in confusion you woke grim up who huffed angrily and complained about how lovely his dream was.

"Huh!? My tuna! W-where is my tuna and my servants!?" Grim exclaimed before you picked him up by the scruff.

"It was a dream, Grim. We have stranger things to worry about than tuna and you having servants." You said nonchalantly, a yawn escaping your lips.

"There's someone singing something outside." You spoke to wish Grim's ears twitched as if he was trying to listen.

"Henchman, you're right! But why're they singin' a lullaby in the morning?" Grim asked, his paw's rising up to jab you- commanding you to let him go. You sighed as you released him- he etched towards the nearest window to go peek at who was outside, and yell at them to stop.

"There's nothin' here." he said, to which you responded with a raised brow. You began to march over to the window too, certainly there was someone or something outside- music didn't just spawn without a source.

"What do you mean there's nothing? There has to be someone-" He was right, no one was outside neither was there something that could generate music. You and Grim glanced at each other in confusion then looked outside the window once more, in sync.

Out of the blue, a head popped up in front of you- upside down.

"Good morning, how's the day for you two?" You both only shrieked in response, backing away from the window- you swore your heart thumped three times faster. That is until you realized, that was Lilia and not one of the ghosts playing a prank on you- it didn't make the ache on your bum any better from falling down though.

"Lilia!? Why are you- what are you doing here," You said, quickly pausing to glance at the old clock to check the time before continuing. "at seven in the morning?" You asked with a huff, Grim nodding at your side- both your and Grim's arms crossed in sync, to which Lilia heartily laughed. He quickly got off your roof and began to float outside your window- this wasn't the morning you were expecting and you did mind, sort of.

"Well I merely thought it would be a lovely idea to visit you, isn't that what you do with loved ones?" He said, his tone filled with mischief and a cheeky warmth. At his mention of 'loved ones' your cheeks flared up, a wide-eyed stare following suit. Nevertheless, you brushed it off, realizing that he could very well mean a dear friend.

That stung.

"Not by scaring them first thing when they wake up, anyways-" You began after composing yourself, only to be cut off by Grim.

"Hey, were you the one singin' outside?"

"I certainly was, good ears." He winked before continuing once more. "I thought it would be a lovely gift for the prefect. I've heard that singing for the one you love is a form of endearment, no?" With that, he disappeared with another, cheekier, wink.

Grim simply nodded, still half-asleep- you did too, for a second that is, until you realized what he said. His words played in your mind: 'the one you love'. A soft blush coated your face yet you said nothing. You probably misunderstood him, he meant friend- that was it for sure. You should stop getting these wried thoughts.

Just a friend. Right?

A sigh escaped your lips as you got ready for classes, Grim draped across the couch as he napped for a while.

After your classes, the Adeuce duo's shenanigans, random tasks from Crowley, reminders that overblots could still take place, and Grim's constant yapping about tuna- you were simply tired.

You were ready to go back to ramshackle, climb into bed and not get up till late- mainly because there were no classes tomorrow, you couldn't remember why. With a tired smile you left a talkative Grim at Heartslabyul for the night as you treaded for Ramshackle yourself, ready to plop onto your bed and forget everything that took place around you.

The urge to just disappear from all your problems.

Upon entering Ramshackle, you felt so comfortable- not like you normally didn't, but there was something different. You weren't sure exactly what it was, but your dusty old room- it felt mystic. It was as if someone or something magical has visited your room, blessing it it with a sweet sleep spell. You were tired, yes, but rather than groggily falling asleep, you felt as if you were lulled to sleep.

As if someone was singing you a lullaby, cradling you in comforting arms.

Tired eyes fluttered, struggling to stay awake, scared to miss something- someone. A small yawn escaped your lips as you began to fall from the need to sleep.

Endearing.

Before you could fall on the hard ground, a pair of arms caught you- a cheeky smile etched onto Lilia's lips as he held your sleeping from. A soft sigh released as he continued to sing, only now actually entering your chambers. After all, what kind of lover would let his beloved fall?

A sweet hum left his lips as he finished his song, his arms cradling you one last time before placing you on your bed. A soft kiss was planted on your forehead, a kiss to keep away nightmares.

He'd felt wrong in the past, entering your chambers as he cradled you to sleep- his beloved crying in his arms. It could be immoral to enter someone's room, yet how could he leave? Nightmares plagued you every single night, Grim noticed too- thus clinging to you in desperation to comfort you, when sleeping at Ramshackle.

With no choice left, A sleeping spell was cast in the dorm by Lilia, ever since the day he noticed how these horrid dreams affected you. You'd toss and turn, cry and mumble in sleep. Maybe fear from overblots? Perhaps homesickness? Or maybe it was pure lonlieless.

Whatever it was, Lilia was there- whether you realized it or not. A soft, blessed, tune to sing you to sleep.

As his usual night routine went, tucking you to bed and leaving- he propped himself up from your bed as he prepared to return back to Diasomnia. Yet, a soft tug at his sleeve stopped him; an incoherent mumble from your lips as your brows furrowed- still asleep.

Therefore, a kiss was placed on your lips- a spell.

Now your nightmares were his to keep, a gift in his eyes- for as long as you didn't suffer, he'd remain content.

Before leaving, he sung one last song.

"Sweet dreams"

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!

Note 3: Just realized I spelt his name wrong- fixed it.

WOWWWWWWWWWW

赤面寮長ズ