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When the thought of being seen is too much, but you yearn connection…
I don't really have any good name for this AU I have in mind for Idia and Kiki, other than it takes some inspiration from Eros and Psyche's myth and happens in more historical time of Twisted Wonderland because I want to draw clothes inspired by victorian and edwardian era.
Anyhow, I wanted to draw something self-indulgent and actually finish it xd
✨Vgen || Blue Sky || IG || Ko-Fi || Commission Queue list || My Store✨
TWST TAG TEAM:
@windalchemist001 @twstsandturns @the-trinket-witch @katriniac @lorei-writes
@nerenda
Dunno if I will ever yap about this AU, but it has been infesting my mind for the last couple of weeks. This is something purely self-indulgent to the point I don't really care if it sounds silly. I just wanna think about yearning :)
hii hii @lorei-writes and @pond-lilies!! thank you so much for hosting the event and I was very honored to participate!!
My giftee was... @dicenete!!!! yay!!! Honestly when I saw your tierlist I was like "huh.. i don't usually write any of these tropes..." so it was a real but good challenge for me to go outside my comfort zone and write a trope I don't typically write.
Now go enjoy some good fluff with a hint of idiots in love!! :D
It was a beautiful summer day in Rhodolite; around the time the roses fully bloomed in the country. Lady Aino had visited the country under the pretext of a political visit, which happened quite often to keep up relations with Rhodolite.Â
Today, Aino sat in the garden of the grand palace of Rhodolite where their renowned flower grew in masses. The flowers lined the hedges; some hedges short, some tall, and even some trimmed into intricate designs such as birds and deer. The leaves rustled in the slight breeze of the day, which carried the smell of fragrant floral along with it. To some, this was a wonderful place to enjoy a tea party; this weather was perfect for this sort of occasion after all.Â
However, to Aino, she felt terribly out of place.
It wasn't that she hated the outdoors; quite the opposite actually. It was the fact that a garden with beautiful roses was elegant; she however didn’t share this sentiment. Elegance was an unfamiliarity for her; spending days on a battlefield teaches you to be tough, not proper and poised like a delicate flower.Â
Yet, here she was sitting before Licht Klein, the Sixth born Prince of Rhodolite, and the man she was betrothed to on a date-of-sorts that his older brother Yves had set up for the two of them under the guise of “spending more time together”.Â
She was impartial to being here on this date. On one hand, this was to the man she was supposed to be with out of duty for the safety of her country. On the other hand… she knew quite little about the Prince, despite her many attempts to get to know him.
Now here they were, sitting in front of each other drinking tea scented like bergamot and peppermint with an array of freshly baked good made with love from the Fifth Prince of Rhodolite on three-tiered dessert towers, and Aino, figuring out if she should tuck her pinky inward or leave it out when drinking the tea and making sure not to chew too loudly or with her mouth open.
“Hold your pinky out, like this.” Lichi explained in his ever monotone voice as he raised the hand that held the teacup to demonstrate how it was to be held, bringing the liquid to his mouth, enjoying its contents.
“Ah, thank you.” Aino replied as she then followed suit, copying the movements shown before her, bringing the liquid to her mouth as well. The tea was warm, minty and slightly sour, but was quite a refreshing beverage to have on a sunny day.
Bringing the teacup down she quietly placed it back on the plate as a silence passed between the two of them.
“I’m sorry, I’m not the best at casual tea time banter,” she adds as an apology.
“It’s fine. I appreciate that.”Â
He then reached over to the first tier of sweets tower to grab one of the many darioles scattered on the tray.
“Is that your favorite?”
The man before her answered with a nod grabbing another from the tower. Instead of eating it, he extended his hand over to her, offering the sweet treat.
“Here, take it. They’re good.”
Extending a hand forward to grab the small pastry, she raised the dariole to her lips, taking a bite from the velvety delicacy. The pastry had a rich creamy texture on the inside that simply melted in her mouth as the second passed.
Finishing the pastry, she made contact with his red eyes.
“You know Prince Licht, you’re kind of like a Rose; prickly to the touch, but you’re quite kind even when you’re trying to distance yourself,” She absentmindedly blurts between bites of the delectable pastry.
“Ah…” he let out as his eyes averted from hers, pink dusting his cheeks. Then, her own eyes looking away due to his lack of a reply.
Yet another bout of silence fell over the two royals. This time it was an awkward silence as they looked at the surroundings pretending a hedge was far more interesting than each other's presence.
“I’m sorry if that offended you.” Aino let out an apology for the awkward air that was created between them, hand reaching behind her neck; a physical display of the discomfort of the difficult social situation.
“No. I appreciate that you felt comfortable enough to speak your mind.” A blunt, fast, yet honest reply from the Sixth Prince.
“You don’t think that it was unnecessary?”
Her eyes traveled back to meet his, already looking back at her own eyes.
“I do not. I honestly prefer that you’re honest with me.”Â
A small smile formed on the Prince's lips, the first she had ever seen from him in the years she had known him. Her lips then formed into a small smile as well, mirroring the exact one he was adorning.
Elegance was never Aino’s strong suit. However, it is most certainly not her weakness.
special thanks to my beta readers @lorei-writes and @elysieverie for their last minute beta reading of my fic!!
Idia x OC (@dicenete's Kiki); ~3.8k; Premise: Kiki has to choose between her internship and the relationship with Idia. As a result, she needs to leave the Island of Woe.
My part of the trade with Dice >:3
Retina scan authentication: Failed.
The entryway parted in a hurry. Metal rattled as it slid inside the walls, red light blazing to signal the arrival of an intruder. Stirred by an alarm siren, S.T.Y.X. headquarters lost its calm, but still clung to the cool.
“You’ve done WHAT?!” Idia screamed upon stomping into his father’s office, his voice like that of a banshee. A portable PC clutched under his arm, he typed away at the holographic keyboard, fast and made all the more furious by each missed key. Idia cursed under his breath. The security system still showed the signs of a collapse – half a second of a delay would not change any fates.
“Language,” the director sighed.
“Language my ass, I’m turning that ship back!”
“You are not.”
An error message appeared in the air, followed shortly by another, and another one. The beeping issued by the struggling OS multiplied, cascaded like the waterfall breaking its neck on hard river floor – if it was up to Idia, he would consider jumping too. His teeth dug into his lip. His eyes narrowed.
“Idia.”
“Shut it,” he spat out. They had nothing to talk about. Idia needed his focus elsewhere, the conflicts multiplying like the misfortunes befalling his life. The moment he cleared one, ten more swarmed him. His fingers began to cramp. His eyes scrambled over the displayed code, but it was overwritten at a breakneck pace, the symbols morphing, switching, replicating parts of themselves a hundred times whenever he blinked. Idia stared harder, as if that alone could stop the mutating cross-over gibberish encoded evolution from taking over the display.
The fans inside the mini-case went to high speed.
Those damn holographic keyboards were a mistake.
CRITICAL ERROR.
The machine scalded his side.
He could still turn the situation around. Idia slammed the keys with more force, his fingers phasing through them. He knew how to overtake the security AI. He had made it. He would be able to kill it as well.
3…
2…
1…
Death. Idia threw the damn device to the floor. Of course, the PC had to cook itself – he should have stayed in his room, or better yet, should have taken over the central computer and performed the operation from there. Idia gripped his head, strands of fiery hair spilling through the gaps between his fingers. His jaw clenched.
“I’m sorry, Idia,” his father said.
He couldn’t see him, his mask, couldn’t hear his concern. Idia turned his face towards the director, not his parent, and his lips twisted. He choked down his cry, his voice a glitched, poorly assembled, clip; nevertheless, he had to ask, “Why?”
“I’m sorry, Idia. I believe it was best for both you and Chioni—”
“Because what? Somebody started yapping? Give me access to CCTV cameras and I’ll give their annual performance review a reaaal good look.”
“You’re proving the point I was trying to make.”
“Point?” Idia grinned. “Maybe start trying to prove mine. You got rid of the one good thing I had on this crappy island of doom and gloom, and you’re telling me it was for the organisation? The organisation that I – I! – carry on my back?! Don’t give me that crap. You could fire half the staff in all the departments yesterday and you wouldn’t realise they’re gone as long as I’m on board.”
“Idia…”
“What? You know I’m right. And it’s rich for all those morons to run their mouths when the moment you were gone, they were more than happy to let a damn teen handle all the executive decisions. Holier than though much, don’t you think? And they’re the ones talking about advantages and norms? Hahahaha, lmfao, I’d be rolling dead on the floor if I laughed for reals.”
His face burned, strained muscles writing while upholding his smile. It was a sharp, cursed grin, a feral mockery of what should be sweet, exactly like the entire rest of his existence. Tainted by the sins he hadn’t committed. Decided upon by decisions made for, rather than by, him. It was a long scarred-over brand, a wound that still stung and somehow, after centuries of grief, threatened to reopen, to split his mouth apart and let all the bitter bile flow. In a sense, he wasn’t much different from a titan. Yet she still loved him. A worthless abomination that he is, she still loved him and paid the price for it.
“You know what? Fine!” His hands shot up above his head. “Fine! I say F-I-N-E! Have it your way! For all the duty and power we have, at the end of the day, we are all just slaves. Ever seen a happy Shroud? Me neither, man!”
Idia stormed out of the room, leaving his feather to rest his weary head in his hands. Perhaps… Perhaps Mister Shroud had his own doubts.
***
The winter that year began suddenly, the frosty air of the simulated atmosphere underneath the dome pricking Idia’s skin like needles. He walked Kiki to the chariot and they talked about… nothing. Nothing in particular. Games, mostly, and her plants, and how to take care of them, the crappy Wi-Fi at her family home, and the shows they would need to stream together as soon as she settled in the Kingdom of Heroes. Her voice was the last dying breaths of summer, however, and the moment she turned silent, the chill crept in. Echoes of their steps filled the hollow corridors. Idia… It was a vile, normie thing of him to do, but he grabbed her hand.
“It’ll pass in no time,” Kiki assured. “And you can visit me sometimes too?”
Right. She wouldn’t be able to get a visa.
“Yeah, I will. Not sure whether the sun won’t burn me to a crisp, though.”
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“I got a tan while interning at Olympos and I didn’t even leave my station once.”
Kiki giggled. At least he managed to make her giggle. He’d have to store this memory and ration it carefully in the coming months. The chariot engines started. They… needed to say their goodbyes. He didn’t want to.
“Well…” Kiki cleared her throat. “I’ll call you once I’m home.”
“Yeah. I’ll be waiting.”
He didn’t let go of her, not consciously – her fingers gave his a squeeze, laced with them tightly and then, the very next moment, she was gone. Kiki stood up on her tiptoes.
“See you,” she whispered against his lips, still warm with her kiss. She didn’t linger. Perhaps she too couldn’t risk being too close for too long, lest she wished to stay forever.
An idiot frozen to the spot, he watched her board the vehicle. First step, second step, third, fourth… His Kiki got closer to disappearing with each elapsed breath, and with her, all the traces spring and sunshine would soon be gone as well. The entry hatch closed. She waved at him through the window.
Something inside of Idia lurched.
“I’ll be waiting!” he hollered as loudly as his puny lungs allowed. He needed her to hear him and it appeared that Lady Luck smiled upon him – or perhaps it was just Kiki’s smile. Whichever the case, he didn’t have the time to ponder over it. The chariot took off, uprooting all the summer hopes that had been sown in his world.
***
The timer app went off for what felt like the hundredth time. For some godforsaken reason, he had selected chirping as the alarm sound and the shrill trills now split his head, his eyes dry and burning. The screen didn’t look particularly sharp, but… Idia just needed to squint his eyes harder. He swatted away at his bed until his hand landed on his phone. What was it again this time?
WATER SUCCULENTS
Idia set his work laptop aside. The room seemed to float and undulate, as if the ocean had broken into the headquarters and replaced the air. It felt too heavy for him to breathe in with ease, his shoulders slumping as he approached the solitary streak of light in his room. Idia scratched his head. He chewed on his lip while his eyes searched the floor for the watering can. At least this thing he could still do right.
The plant rack resembled a pillar if not a tower, long spider ivy stems cascading from the top shelves, past the multitude of different peperomias, fuzzy-leafed violets, proud orchids or relaxed ferns; finally, his eyes rested on the aloe vera, aeonium, echeveria, and others, the names of which he had forgotten. His knees weren’t happy, but he kneeled regardless.
“Kiki told me you liked it when she spoke to you… I think she was joking, but… You never know, I guess,” Idia sighed. “I could rant at you, but what if you whither from all that” — he gestured vaguely — “and that” — Idia rolled his eyes. The tip of the spout pressed against the rim of the first pot — “and for what? It’s not like you could grow your roots into the earth and dunno, sneak her in or something. Or at least I don’t think basic supermarket plants can cast ancient long-distance teleportation magic, but you know, be free to prove me wrong. GMO power.
“Although I guess… If you could, then I bet you would have already done it; it must be kinda meh to have a dude like me watering you now. Total downgrade. Your fertiliser prolly got NERFed too.”
A cactus pricked him, perhaps to voice its silent disagreement. Idia smirked.
“Yeah, yeah, no water for you, ezz. I gave you some yesterday, at precisely 4:31PM, so chill.”
The lamps continued to emit a low buzz, the plants slowly extending their leaves and stems towards Idia – so slowly it remained unnoticed, his eyes turning back towards his bed as soon as he was done with the task. To think that not so long ago… No, no, he shouldn’t even… Idia let his eyes linger on the pots once more. His nose burned. Pollen. It was definitely just his pollen allergy acting up from all this new, foreign life in his space. The metal he was used to was cold and static, forever locked in a state of permanent indifference. This… That… The things he’d been dealing with, they were far more delicate and impermanent, complicated in ways he could barely understand. Precious as it made them, it… He… Some days Idia wished all was back to harsh, frigid steel again. That it truly could replace the warmth of a human hand.
***
“I don’t think you should open that door.”
“But we’re missing just one piece of the puzzle and it’s the last location we haven’t been to.”
“Yes, I guess… But… Idia!”
Idia wasn’t sure what made him jump in his seat – Kiki’s squeak streamed directly into his ears or the pixel art cut scene, long, gnarly fingers reaching over the edge of the door to push it open from inside. The animated hinges creaked. Idia glanced towards his second monitor, the crossed out microphone icon by her username causing his brow to crease. He hit the pause button.
“Hey, everything all right there?”
Seconds stretched out into infinity as he waited for a reply. At last, it came and brought with it some breathable air.
“Yeah… It’s just that…” Kiki spoke in a small, timid voice. “I’m sorry for the noise. It couldn’t have been pleasant.”
“Pfft, hahaha, come on.” Idia shook his head, the dim glow of his hair disrupting the darkness inside of his room. “It’s nothing.”
“I saw you jump.”
He could swear he’d turn purple and then pink in a matter of seconds.
“The hand has just caught me off guard!” Idia protested.
“I don’t believe you. You played all the Biothreat games without a hitch.”
Idia pouted or rather, struggled to contain his pout. “The classic RPG Maker horror games pack a different kind of punch than insect-spread disease.”
“Hmm… Even if it’s not that, I still don’t want to scream over the game. You may miss out on cues if I do.”
“Kiki…”
Her microphone crackled only to be struck down by an angry, red line. Quiet. Three dots floated at the bottom of the chat window.
Kiki: sec
Kiki: brb
“Take your time,” he reassured her, although not without struggle.
Idia leaned back in his chair, another notification appearing in the corner of his screen.
WATER FERNS
He looked at the chat. No sign of Kiki typing.
brb too, gotta water the plants :Idia
His feet shuffled against the floor. It was as if the watering can rushed into his hands by itself, its spout now something of a trusted NPC companion rather than a sour reminder of his new duty. For all Idia could tell, even the plants had become rather pleased to see him… or perhaps they had resigned to their fate. Maybe both. Whichever the case, he pruned the dry leaves without a second thought, his hand tipping back the moment the appropriate amount of water was delivered to the pot, precise to the point of being near robotic. The orchids had gone into bloom again and he took it to be a good omen. He knew better than to waste this RNG blessing.
At last, Idia returned to his PC.
Kiki: hehe, I’m glad to see you’re friends now :3
Kiki: did you give them fertiliser?
Kiki: they’ve grown sooo much
“Yeah, I’ve been following your instructions to the T.” Idia puffed out his chest and slid his headphones back over his head. “Not a single root shall rot with me on guard. I’ve been maintaining proper humidity too – you bet those leaves are all shiny and plump, not a single wrinkly…”
Her camera turned on and his mind went blank. Her cheeks painted over with feverish blush, Kiki lay on her side, her head propped on a tabby cat plushie. Her hand reached over to the keyboard. She wore his hoodie over her usual frilly pajamas. He must have left it behind while visiting – and now Idia could only wonder how often she’d put it on.
Kiki: can’t wait to see them in person. i'm sure you’re taking great care of them
Kiki: can you stream and read the chat?
“Yeah, of course!” Idia announced, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
Kiki smiled at him through the camera.
Kiki: sorry, i look like a mess
Kiki: but i can type? at least during the scary parts
Kiki: this way i won’t damage your ears lol
“A mess? Nah, you look hot—” Idia stopped to mentally facepalm himself. “I mean, yeah, of course you do, you always does – do – but—” Another facepalm, this time physical and crowned with an audible slap. “YOU HAVE FEVER!” he shrieked, defeated by his very own inability to wield words.
Kiki: i told you i was feeling a bit ill :(
“It looks more than just a little ill… Get under a blanket, k? I’ll wait.”
A frown flickered across her face, but she gave in to his request. Kiki showed him a thumbs up to then reach for something just outside the camera frame. It wouldn’t be long until she was all tucked in and ready to watch… Yet Idia didn’t seem to be in much hurry to return to the game. His gaze slid across the bracelet on her wrist, the garnets stark against her skin. Six stones precisely, each bearing a different ward. Would any of his inscriptions target the illness? It could technically happen, at least under certain circumstances…
Kiki: all good to go! let’s explore the scary room!
“Let me know if it gets too much and we’ll switch to Cometrain Valley. What boyfriend would I be if I gave my girlfriend nightmares.”
Kiki: come on, i won’t get nightmares
Kiki: probably
Kiki: but cometrain valley would be nice too :D but now, let’s go! after the weird hand!
Idia returned to the game, but his heart wasn’t all in it. The Kiki cam occupied more space in his mind than the dark corridors and the flickering torch of his character. If only he was there… He could do more for her. He would have done more for her.
***
Hosting parties at S.T.Y.X., the home of all the introverts and hopeless nerds, should have been forbidden; “should have”, as, unfortunately, it wasn’t. A paper cup gripped in his hand, Idia leaned against a wall and listened in to the low music, the undercurrent of fragmented conversations seeping into his ears. He took a sip of the punch and his eyes slid across the room. The “no phones, smartwatches or other devices” rule felt targeted, but perhaps it was just as necessary to force the researchers out of their shells as the cheap alcohol. The fresh interns wouldn’t know what they got themselves into for at least a few more days and by then, they would have been too far along into the move to the Island of Woe to reconsider their choices… Although perhaps, to some, uncovering the secrets of blot while cooped up at the very bottom of the ocean was a dream come true. In either case, Idia couldn’t relate.
“It’s a bit cold in winter. I don’t know why they make the simulation this accurate. Couldn’t we be, I don’t know, a tropical island?”
“Yeah, really, everybody’s really reasonable here. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Cafeteria has great food.”
“You can set the RBGs in your room to whichever colour you like.”
“Mine are green. It’s calming.”
“I prefer blue.”
“Pink for me.”
“There was this pink-haired girl here last year…”
Idia strained his ears.
“… she got together with the Director’s son. I don’t think they’re still a couple, but she had to quit either way.”
His hand twitched. Idia shot a glance towards the group, but his feet remained firmly bound to the floor. No… A frontal attack with no ammo would do him no good.
“To be honest? Good for her. That dude’s a real creep. There’s no way somebody this cute really wanted to have anything to do with him.”
Idia ground his teeth. That man… Tall. Lanky. Brunette. His face rang some bell, but Idia couldn’t quite place his finger on it. The absence of his phone left him with a dull burning ache, an echo of a phantom pain left after a lost limb; for a second he found himself wishing he was a cyborg, so that he could not be separated from the tech, not even by his genius mother. The database he needed was one access key and two rooms away. The remaining punch swirled inside of his cup.
“Idia? Is there something wrong?” Ortho’s voice crackled out of nowhere. “You’re crushing the cup. At this rate, the drink will spill in estimate 4… 3… Oh, you loosened the grip.”
“You’re just what I needed, Ortho.” Idia breathed out in relief, a wide grin splitting his face. “Will you help your big bro?”
Ortho tipped his head to the side. “You seem rather angry. Of course I will.”
“See that dude?” Idia pointed at the man with his chin. “I need access to his files. ASAP.”
“Security footage too?”
“Give me anything you can find.”
The party moved on, but Idia’s mind most definitely did not. His focus sharpened, he listened to Ortho’s report, drunk every word and got intoxicated with revenge. Jason Argus. The IP address the complaint about Kiki was sent from matched his department; with little work, they could trace it back to his work station. Intern, up to be offered the job contract in two months. Specialised in textile restoration… Seen after hours with intern Corin.
Idia downed the cup of punch and then another. He approached the group. Made courageous by the low-alcoholic drink, he slammed his hand on top of Jason’s shoulder. Almost like an extrovert.
“Jason, hi!” he announced loudly. “How are things going in the art department?”
“All good, chief!”
“Great to hear that, man. The Director sends his thanks for your hard work on the Golden Fleece project, you’re a real upstart rookie.” Idia gave him a fiery thumbs up. “We really need people like you on the team.”
“Thanks, chief!” Jason shot him a smile. “I’ve been feeling great at S.T.Y.X. too. It’s rare to see family-run companies with great history be this egalitarian in their approach.”
“Haha, I guess you could say we’re all one big family on the Island of Woe. Not a secret to be had when there’s only a couple hundred people working here… Everybody knows everybody, man. It’s double bad for me – can’t exactly NOT stand out with this look.” Idia’s voice dropped. “Talking about family, how’s stuff with intern Corin? Great to see that something started working out after Chioni turned you down.”
Jason turned red in the face. He coughed, spitting his drink in the process.
“Intern Corin? Ahaha, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shot a cautious look to researcher Aeetes. “Really. I have no clue.”
“Yeah?!” Idia feigned surprise. “I thought you guys were totally going out. I mean, good for you, dude, it’s great when you don’t have to worry about people gossiping about your relationship being just a ploy for personal gains. Gotta say, I kinda envy that.”
Researcher Aeetes pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose bridge.
“No, no, it’s nothing like this between us.”
“You sure? Because the CCTV camera guy asked me to tell you not to get so handy where we can see it. Like, really, dude, get a room.”
Researcher Aeetes turned around and left the group.
“Maddie! Hey, Maddie! He’s making this crap up!”
Idia let go of Jason’s arm. The intern bolted after researcher – Madea – Aeetes, completely disregarding the looks he was getting from the crowd. Perhaps… his performance review would soon drop, although that was only a speculation on Idia’s side.
***
The suitcase wheels rattled against the chariot hangar floor. Idia folded the handle and approached the ship.
“Idia,” his father called after him. It was a good day for mister Shroud… He seemed less ill. As if there was more spring to his step. “Have a safe trip.”
Idia turned on his heel. “Yeah. I will. And you make sure to approve that visa application for Kiki. I wrote it, there’s no way in the Underworld anything’s missing.” His lips twisted into a wicked grin. “Want any souvenirs from the Kingdom of Heroes?”
“Your mother mentioned fridge magnets.”
“You’ve got it then.” He began to climb the steps, but stopped before disappearing inside of the vehicle. “I applied for the full six months. I WILL file an appeal if she gets anything less. Got it?”
“Yes. We wouldn’t want to deal with any needless bureaucracy, after all.”
He could hear his father smile as the chariot took off.
Idia x Kiki (@dicenete's OC; aka my OTP) // Fluff, comfort, comedy // Torturing Idia with feelings and awkwardness // Scars // Because Dice's art is fuelling my brainrot and this has been BEGGING to be let out ever since she posted that art of Idia with post-overblot scars
The apartment has been left unlocked – a bad habit Idia is yet to correct despite staying outside of the S.T.Y.X. headquarters for a few months now. Apparently living under the watchful eye of the Cerberus security system may make one impervious to the wonders of such primitive technologies as a key-lock pair. Kiki shakes her head, a pink cloud of hair bouncing lightly above her shoulders. Perhaps he’ll learn another day. For now she needs to wean him off instant ramen and jello. Baby steps. Baby. Steps.
Her hand presses against the door and it gives in willingly if not eagerly. The entryway to Idia’s flat could be called minimalistic were it not for the stacks of empty Wonderzone boxes guarding the corridor. Balancing the grocery bags hanging from both of her arms, Kiki pushes the cardboard away with the side of her foot and slips out of her flats, the shoe rack she’s bought standing right where she left it the last time she visited. Idia’s trainers are also in it, which alone sets off the swarm of butterflies inhabiting her chest aflutter. She is all warm ohs and gentle good, goods, as incomprehensible as it is. What is worse, she… does not mind it, not truly. Kiki scrunches up her nose, if only to will dissatisfaction to come onto her – she needs to focus. She’s bought dairy and meat. It needs to go into the fridge, the same way she needs to get her head on straight. Barely able to fit through the narrow space, Kiki makes her way to the kitchen, counting every breath to calm down her mind. Her entire body freezes in the doorway, however.
She has been too preoccupied to notice the smell of his shampoo and shower gel.
And now?
Now it is already too late.
A fish stick from the very bottom of a freezer at the back of a small town grocery store, Kiki stares, utterly unprepared for the sight before her. She takes in the still pristine stove, the grey counter largely taken over by the microwave, the tiny, round table and the cabinets that are too tall for her to reach comfortably. She comprehends the tiles and that whoever has laid them left an error in the pattern. She understands why the plant on the windowsill has been fated to wilt from day one. Her mind still blanks out at the figure hunched over in front of the fridge, moist hair clinging to his naked back and shoulders. Idia is dressed in nothing except for a towel and oversized headphones. How he can wear them? That is beyond her.
Idia stretches, the white LED sliding its frigid fingers across his ribs. When he forgets to slouch, he is of an actually rather imposing posture – tall and broad, although entirely too thin. Kiki swallows, although her throat remains parched. She knows where this is going and she is NOT willing to wait until Idia turns around and his towel slips and either of them falls over the other. It is not even funny when such things happen in comedies, much less in real life. Careful as not to disturb the delicate balance of items scattered across the floor, she prepares to make a strategic retreat, but just as she assumes the clumsy crane pose, a strand of hair slips from where it’s rested against his skin. What it unveils is grey and lifeless, a twisted black scar on the otherwise spotless canvas. Kiki can only wonder where it came from. She sets her foot down… right over an empty ramen wrapper.
Something falls onto the floor. Kiki watches as it – the strawberry yoghurt drink she’s left for Idia to try – flows along the grouting and down the black tiles, light pink just like her hair. She tears her eyes away from it. Idia too is pink now. A fish caught above the water, he opens his mouth and closes it, his headphones hanging uselessly around his neck.
“The door…” Kiki mumbles. “I… The door…”
The sounds evade her, just as they elude him.
“The door…” Kiki attempts again. “I-it…” she stutters. “The DOOR WAS OPEN!” she finally shouts.
Idia nods frantically, his bony finger pointing at the bags that she’s still holding in her hands.
“I-I… I CAN TAKE THOSE OFF YOU!” he forces out. “They must be heavy and you’ve been standing here for a while and —”
“I’ve only just came!” Kiki squeaks. “I haven’t been watching you like a creep.”
“Who’s saying anything about creeps?!”
Idia is right in front of her, mint breath, pine tree deodorant and warm skin. Her eyes shut tightly just as his fingers brush against hers and take over the bags.
“C-Come in!” he chokes on the words. “Just watch your step. I’ll start the robocleaner in a second. The new model I’ve ordered has increased suction capability on top of legendary steam-cleaning engine and…”
His words fade, but she follows into the kitchen regardless. The chairs have never before felt quite so surreal, never mind the image of Idia scurrying to put the groceries away. Kiki can only follow him with her eyes, inquisitive as she searches for the hints of decay.
“… and it also runs WI-RE-LESS. No issues getting to and from the docking station and —” Idia turns around on his heel. The flow of his chattering is cut short at once. “Hahaha, yeah, wait a moment, I’ll got get dressed and —”
“Idia.”
Her voice has him freeze where he stands.
“Are you… okay?”
Concern has etched furrows into Kiki’s brow, her blue eyes growing stormy while they search him for the traces of answers. Idia rubs his neck.
“I mean, you did walk in on my half-naked and the towel gag hasn’t happened yet, so I AM feeling the breath of inevitable fanservice segment right on my nape.”
“No, I mean… I mean yes, get dressed, but… Your back?”
“Oh.” Idia crosses his arms in front of his chest. “It’s nothing. Just scars from when the og Ortho hooked himself up to me and pumped me full of blot.”
Her quiet turns scalding as the last word leaves his lips. It is his time to stare now, but he cannot bear it. Idia clears his throat and scratches his head.
“Back when I overblotted. You know.” His stomach contorts, folds in on itself, whines while his insides shrivel down. Idia grips the towel, just in case it indeed was destined to slip and make things even worse.
“I… Would you… Would you mind showing me?” Kiki squeaks, barely louder than a mouse.
He still hears her.
Hers is the only voice he cares about.
That afternoon chair legs will scratch against the – still yoghurt-covered – tiles. The wilted plant will still sit on the windowsill, and the door will remain unlocked. The kitchen table will shudder when his elbows hit it, and the light above will prove too dark… And her hands will be too gentle, too caring for the likes of him as they trace the old, lifeless scars. And Idia? He will pray for this moment to last.
Idia x Kiki (@dicenete's OC; aka my OTP) // Fluff, comfort, comedy // Torturing Idia with feelings and awkwardness // Scars // Because Dice's art is fuelling my brainrot and this has been BEGGING to be let out ever since she posted that art of Idia with post-overblot scars
The apartment has been left unlocked – a bad habit Idia is yet to correct despite staying outside of the S.T.Y.X. headquarters for a few months now. Apparently living under the watchful eye of the Cerberus security system may make one impervious to the wonders of such primitive technologies as a key-lock pair. Kiki shakes her head, a pink cloud of hair bouncing lightly above her shoulders. Perhaps he’ll learn another day. For now she needs to wean him off instant ramen and jello. Baby steps. Baby. Steps.
Her hand presses against the door and it gives in willingly if not eagerly. The entryway to Idia’s flat could be called minimalistic were it not for the stacks of empty Wonderzone boxes guarding the corridor. Balancing the grocery bags hanging from both of her arms, Kiki pushes the cardboard away with the side of her foot and slips out of her flats, the shoe rack she’s bought standing right where she left it the last time she visited. Idia’s trainers are also in it, which alone sets off the swarm of butterflies inhabiting her chest aflutter. She is all warm ohs and gentle good, goods, as incomprehensible as it is. What is worse, she… does not mind it, not truly. Kiki scrunches up her nose, if only to will dissatisfaction to come onto her – she needs to focus. She’s bought dairy and meat. It needs to go into the fridge, the same way she needs to get her head on straight. Barely able to fit through the narrow space, Kiki makes her way to the kitchen, counting every breath to calm down her mind. Her entire body freezes in the doorway, however.
She has been too preoccupied to notice the smell of his shampoo and shower gel.
And now?
Now it is already too late.
A fish stick from the very bottom of a freezer at the back of a small town grocery store, Kiki stares, utterly unprepared for the sight before her. She takes in the still pristine stove, the grey counter largely taken over by the microwave, the tiny, round table and the cabinets that are too tall for her to reach comfortably. She comprehends the tiles and that whoever has laid them left an error in the pattern. She understands why the plant on the windowsill has been fated to wilt from day one. Her mind still blanks out at the figure hunched over in front of the fridge, moist hair clinging to his naked back and shoulders. Idia is dressed in nothing except for a towel and oversized headphones. How he can wear them? That is beyond her.
Idia stretches, the white LED sliding its frigid fingers across his ribs. When he forgets to slouch, he is of an actually rather imposing posture – tall and broad, although entirely too thin. Kiki swallows, although her throat remains parched. She knows where this is going and she is NOT willing to wait until Idia turns around and his towel slips and either of them falls over the other. It is not even funny when such things happen in comedies, much less in real life. Careful as not to disturb the delicate balance of items scattered across the floor, she prepares to make a strategic retreat, but just as she assumes the clumsy crane pose, a strand of hair slips from where it’s rested against his skin. What it unveils is grey and lifeless, a twisted black scar on the otherwise spotless canvas. Kiki can only wonder where it came from. She sets her foot down… right over an empty ramen wrapper.
Something falls onto the floor. Kiki watches as it – the strawberry yoghurt drink she’s left for Idia to try – flows along the grouting and down the black tiles, light pink just like her hair. She tears her eyes away from it. Idia too is pink now. A fish caught above the water, he opens his mouth and closes it, his headphones hanging uselessly around his neck.
“The door…” Kiki mumbles. “I… The door…”
The sounds evade her, just as they elude him.
“The door…” Kiki attempts again. “I-it…” she stutters. “The DOOR WAS OPEN!” she finally shouts.
Idia nods frantically, his bony finger pointing at the bags that she’s still holding in her hands.
“I-I… I CAN TAKE THOSE OFF YOU!” he forces out. “They must be heavy and you’ve been standing here for a while and —”
“I’ve only just came!” Kiki squeaks. “I haven’t been watching you like a creep.”
“Who’s saying anything about creeps?!”
Idia is right in front of her, mint breath, pine tree deodorant and warm skin. Her eyes shut tightly just as his fingers brush against hers and take over the bags.
“C-Come in!” he chokes on the words. “Just watch your step. I’ll start the robocleaner in a second. The new model I’ve ordered has increased suction capability on top of legendary steam-cleaning engine and…”
His words fade, but she follows into the kitchen regardless. The chairs have never before felt quite so surreal, never mind the image of Idia scurrying to put the groceries away. Kiki can only follow him with her eyes, inquisitive as she searches for the hints of decay.
“… and it also runs WI-RE-LESS. No issues getting to and from the docking station and —” Idia turns around on his heel. The flow of his chattering is cut short at once. “Hahaha, yeah, wait a moment, I’ll got get dressed and —”
“Idia.”
Her voice has him freeze where he stands.
“Are you… okay?”
Concern has etched furrows into Kiki’s brow, her blue eyes growing stormy while they search him for the traces of answers. Idia rubs his neck.
“I mean, you did walk in on my half-naked and the towel gag hasn’t happened yet, so I AM feeling the breath of inevitable fanservice segment right on my nape.”
“No, I mean… I mean yes, get dressed, but… Your back?”
“Oh.” Idia crosses his arms in front of his chest. “It’s nothing. Just scars from when the og Ortho hooked himself up to me and pumped me full of blot.”
Her quiet turns scalding as the last word leaves his lips. It is his time to stare now, but he cannot bear it. Idia clears his throat and scratches his head.
“Back when I overblotted. You know.” His stomach contorts, folds in on itself, whines while his insides shrivel down. Idia grips the towel, just in case it indeed was destined to slip and make things even worse.
“I… Would you… Would you mind showing me?” Kiki squeaks, barely louder than a mouse.
He still hears her.
Hers is the only voice he cares about.
That afternoon chair legs will scratch against the – still yoghurt-covered – tiles. The wilted plant will still sit on the windowsill, and the door will remain unlocked. The kitchen table will shudder when his elbows hit it, and the light above will prove too dark… And her hands will be too gentle, too caring for the likes of him as they trace the old, lifeless scars. And Idia? He will pray for this moment to last.
He still hears her.
Excuse me for a moment I need to-
AS I SAID BEFORE!!!!:::
YOU GENIOUS BASTARD! YOU REMARKABLE DEVILISH PLOTTER!
I BOW DOWN IN FRONT OF YOUR THRONE OF SONGS!
I LOVE THIS WAY TOO MUCH AND IT FILLS ME FULL OF SILLIES AND FUZZIES T-T
THANK YOU <3333
Twst ver. part 6, Idia as a boyfriend headcanon. no ortho ofc(his my baby/lil bro)
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idia shourd:
As a boyfriend, Idia Shroud is a socially anxious, introverted gamer who prefers a low-stakes, virtual relationship over anything in the "normie world." He is incredibly intelligent and passionate about his hobbies, but his lack of self-confidence means he needs a partner who is patient, understanding, and willing to enter his digital realm to connect.
Idia as a Boyfriend
The Virtual Connection:Â Forget traditional dates like dinner or walks in the park. Dates with Idia will primarily be co-op gaming sessions online, watching anime marathons, or discussing new tech and obscure internet memes. He is most comfortable interacting through a screen or in his dorm.
Subtle & Non-Physical Affection: He is not a physically affectionate person. He won't hold hands, hug often, or engage in PDA. His affection is shown in practical, tech-savvy ways: making sure your console is running perfectly, building you custom tech, or sharing exclusive game codes. Playing games with you for hours is his version of quality time.
Passionately Talkative (About Hobbies):Â While he's usually a gloomy recluse, bring up video games, anime, or engineering, and he becomes a fast-talking, energetic enthusiast. He needs a partner who can listen to his passionate rants and ideally, share in these interests.
Needs a Confident & Patient Partner:Â Idia's self-esteem is low, and he often calls himself "gloomy" or "insignificant." He needs a partner who is confident enough in themselves not to need constant validation and patient enough to deal with his social awkwardness and reluctance to leave his room.
Easily Flustered:Â He is very much a novice in romance. Traditional romantic gestures or compliments will cause him to short-circuit, blush furiously, and likely retreat behind a screen or into his hair.
A Hidden Protective Streak:Â He won't throw hands like the Pomefiore or Savanaclaw guys, but if his partner is genuinely in trouble, he will use his engineering genius and the resources of Ignihyde (and his brother, Ortho) to solve the problem efficiently and remotely.
dating Idia Shroud requires you to enter his world. He offers a relationship built on intellectual connection, shared geeky interests, and subtle acts of service, perfect for a partner who is an introvert themselves and values emotional security and tech-savvy thoughtfulness over traditional romance and social outings.
Idia x OC (Chioni "Kiki" Ceres by @dicenete) ; Comfort, Fluff, mostly Idia being pathetic; work at S.T.Y.X. ; Idia can't handle feelings; falling in love (and falling literally) ; ~1.7k
In appreciation of Dice and her creative generosity. And Kiki also. Man, I love Kiki.
The corridors of the S.T.Y.X. headquarters seemed desolate even by their own measure — courtesy of the late hour, Idia presumed as he dragged his feet across the cold floor, each of his steps resonating through the metal. The rivets in the walls grated at his nerves with their chatter. Most things did at the time; his arm pressed against the wall, his shoulders hunched over, the steady glow of his hair mingling with the sharp light of the retina scanner. The clearance couldn’t come soon enough. What a drag…
The director’s – his father’s – office had become an increasingly familiar place over the course of the years. Initially only a locked-off station, a mysterious playground he and Ortho were allowed to visit in the rare hours when nobody could watch over them, it had gradually turned into something of a memoir or a data log, some entries in it recorded by his very own hands. Each and every one of them came too soon. Always too soon… And with the recent incident, Idia expected the situation to only exacerbate. It was one thing to be cursed, but… Seeing his father wither away, ever-diligent as he upheld his post and watched over the Island of Woe… To know he fainted again, to be aware of the increasing frequency of his weakness spells, to expect them to… No. Idia didn’t want to think about that. Like it or not, for the time being, he was the acting director and it was entirely up to him to ensure that neither of his parents would accumulate any unnecessary morale debuffs while still not out in the clear. He should focus on his role. Nothing else. This time, nothing else…
Chair wheels squeaked, the seat sighing heavily underneath his weight, the sounds creeping up his spine. He never picked up on it when visiting. Had his father grown thinner again? But the med team said he was doing well and —
No.
Idia propped his elbows on the desk, his eyes searching for the documents he was yet to read through. The pile must have grown while he was consulting with the data specialists in the Research Facility #1, a new equipment cost breakdown from the agriculture department intruding on the parts of the desk previously taken up by the annual Charon unit phantom acquisition report. He would need to contact the accounting… Issue a comparative analysis overview request to the archives… Review the success rates of the new field gear… And that would only mark the beginning of his night. Just thinking about it was exhausting; Idia set the ambient lights to blue and typed in the order for an energy drink or a couple. A little caffeine never hurt anybody, but it did often make the work all the more bearable. He needed to lock in.
The membrane keyboard used by his father was nothing like the mechanical marvel Idia was used to; nevertheless, the quiet tapping of the worn-down keys proved to be rather soothing in its own way… for as long as he forgot everything – and he did try – related to its high failure frequency and low repairability rates. Weren’t they typing a lot at S.T.Y.X.? Couldn’t they cut corners somewhere that weren’t the peripherals? He would have to investigate the matter while still in charge, or better yet, immediately. The perfect, fiery e-mail to their supplier had already drafted itself in his mind, however, Idia never got around to actually writing it down. One last report remained on his desk, from a few days prior. The periwinkle folder it came in felt jarringly ill-suited for the task as it lay in the steel letter tray, entirely too bright to inhabit such a dark and gloomy place. Nevertheless, he couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Idia reached for the papers.
The work with ancient artifacts was a tricky one, some of the old, worn-down sigils and glyphs becoming misshapen to the point of acquiring unexpected, if not simply unprecedented, qualities. It brought quite a headache upon the arcane historians of the prior centuries — enchanted pots that produced fire in place of water, trunks that coated any of the wares stored within them with spicy, sticky honey, or combs that sheered rather than unravelled knots, those and plenty more seemed utterly devoid of any sense. Their existence sparked many theories, as humans tend to reimagine their roots as more fantastical than they were. The emergence of technomancy put an end to that mindless guessing game, but what it revealed wasn’t always particularly pleasant or convenient. And one of the truths it unearthed? The ancient hexes reacted to electricity like metal did to acid and salt. Any reports from the restoration department were written by hand. Idia inhaled sharply; he’d rather read through another impersonal page filled with Arial, font size eleven, interspace set to one and a half. It’d be easier on him.
Kiki’s… No, Chioni’s… Intern Ceres’ handwriting was tidy, slanted rows of plump, round letters filling their designated spaces precisely and without any undue crowding. It was a diligent work, one she could most definitely be proud of. Idia read through the descriptions of the initial state of the received inventory, nodding his head absent-mindedly to each mention of a scratch or a disrupted inscription, his eyes struggling not to get lost in a smiling curve of her “c”s or the resolute tails worn by her “i”s. One thought he couldn’t shake off, however… Kiki’s… Chioni’s… The letters from underneath her pen were as small as her voice. On any other day, he’d complain about the lack of zoom in the analogue media, however, he couldn’t bring himself to. Idia cleared his throat. It felt uncomfortably tight.
Intern Ceres was a new – and most definitely temporary – addition to the roughly five million unfortunate souls inhabiting the Island of Woe. Idia could only assume what dire circumstances had pushed her to apply for a position in their restoration department, although he didn’t dare voice those thoughts. Renowned as it was, S.T.Y.X. had never gained any notable level of recognition in the world of history research, let alone ancient art. There had to be a better position for her out there. Perhaps with a suitable review at the end of her term, she would indeed be able to transfer to some brighter, truly hopeful place. The paper rustled in Idia’s hands, his eyes scanning each line with more than the due attention. Intern Ceres was meticulous and consistently produced sound results. He only wanted to match that dedication. As a token of thanks, if nothing else.
Item: “Mona”, a living portrait
... extensive overpaint, signs of vandalism, moth and weather damage to the canvas,…
… Restoration efforts summary… interleaf lining… laser used to… enchantment adjustment over the reconstructed…
Additional notes: The old varnish combined with multiple layers of overpaint seems to have contributed to the state of severe brain fog displayed by Mona. Restoring the original design of her robe and removing the varnish has improved her condition. She responded well to receiving simple oral instructions and appropriate warnings ahead of time…
Idia shook his head, a few loose strands falling over his eyes; he was long overdue for a trim. Perhaps he should consider it. Perhaps it’d make him look more put together, more competent, calmer, and then, the next time they — His lips twisted in a derisive scowl aimed only at himself. Metal wheezed as Idia leaned back in his chair, the periwinkle folder returning to where it previously lay over the desk. There would be no second time. Not after he fumbled and Chioni… Kiki… saw him at his worst, crumpled like a receipt haphazardly shoved into a crowded hoodie pocket and completely unable to draw an even breath. It was beyond kind of her that she didn’t run away the moment she saw him enveloped in a blaze of his own creation, his hair strewn across his crouched-down body like burning debris. Fuelled by fear and worry and the ugliest of doubts, it scorched his nape, as unpleasant as an overheated CPU about to damage its solder. Yet she stilled combed it back. In that moment, Kiki was a gentle breeze, breathing the azure calm of the vast skies above into his sails. Idia couldn’t explain himself. He could neither push her back nor pull her in. As still as a statue sunken to the bottom of the sea, he merely watched, constricted as if in tetanus grip.
Director… Idia… He recalled her voice as it settled in the air, barely louder than a speck of falling dust. Please, breathe with me. In… She paused, her chest raising slowly, deliberately. With measured precision typical only for those who have practised it many a time before. And out… One… Two… Three… Four… Five…
The first breath was excruciating; the second he eased in with less strain. Once in control of his body, Idia could begin to tighten the reins over his thoughts, or at least attempt to do as much. Her hand touched his shoulder, filling his head with another kind of rush.
The metal screeched as Idia turned in his chair, the motion doing little to shake off the memories. He hid his face in his palms, entirely too aware of how pink his hair had to be. Like clouds at sunset and… Back then… When she… Kiki most definitely had seen it then too. She was an angel not to comment on it. Yes, yes, yes, definitely an angel, a saint, an SSR Friendly Neighbourhood Girl taken straight out of the safe comfort of the pages of his favourite manga. He spun around and away from the desk to flee the thought and the uncomfortable, fluttering tighness building up in his chest. The wheel got caught on the uneven floor. Idia tumbled over, but not before bringing the unfortunate letter tray down together with him, his hands clutching it right as the papers burst into the air. They scattered like snow, and what was worse, that too reminded him of Kiki. She was like the landscape covered in…. NO! NO! NO! NOT in his father’s office! And who was he to wax poetic about AN INTERN?! SOME NORMIE CREEP?! Mildly sore, Idia jolted upright, just in time to hear the knocking on the door.
“Is… Is everything all right?” Chioni asked, her voice clearer, reinforced with concern.
Idia gripped his head. No, nthing was right. How would he explain this mess to her?!
I'M STILL NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS! <33 Thank you!!! @lorei-writes
AAAAAAAAH!! MAYBE WITH THE POWER OF BRAINROT I CAN FINALLY FINISH KIKI'S DESIGN AND SHARE IT!
Adrian Hex - RSA Junior Student - Based on the Beast/Adam from The Beauty and the Beast
Among several TWST OCs Adrian has been cooking for some time. Not the oldest by any means, but things happened and I got some motivation to finish him ^^
Pairing him with Vil, he is a junior in RSA, tho his temper would fit better at NRC : D I imagine he works in alt fashion modelling and after some events gets a chance to model with Vil for a cover image.
As much as I like to see Idia paired with OCs that are all as quirky and nerdy as him, but I also love the idea of him being paired with OCs that are as or even more socially anxious, shy and soft spoken than him. Someone who hyperfixate deep but softly, someone who could probably pass as a "normie" but if you pay attention you see and hear their quiet quirkiness. :)
WoW designers called Idia, they wanted the huge shoulder armors back.
This jacket has lived in my head rent free for the whole... three days or so. So of course I had to draw Idia in it : DD Looking like a real BBEG there, boy. But I'm happy that he finally got a housewarden uniform. :)
Blue Sky || Cara || Ko-Fi || Commission Queue list
TWST Tag Team:
@windalchemist001 @twstsandturns @the-trinket-witch
Undirected Connection || Idia x Reader || Chapter 1
Prologue
Author’s note: wow I actually updated. :) Also the mandatory: English isn't my native language so...
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Idia/Reader
Words: 3 884
Tags: GenderNeutral Reader - Reader is from Ignihyde - Cat and mouse chase dynamic - minimal editing - I just try to write stuff - no beta, we die like men
The Board Game club. A place for introverts alike to find their voice as they played against other students, something that they all had in common so they had something to talk about. Or for people who like to stay one jump ahead of everyone else, like Azul Ashengrotto, the housewarden of Octavinelle. In the whole college, there was no more ruthless businessman. Strategy games? Be ready to be dominated by the cephalo-punk (as Savanaclaw's housewarden called him). Or witness him develop the best technique to throw the dice so he would always land the favorable numbers for his turn in a game of chance. Either way not many people were willing to play against him. Other than Idia, who could give a good fight and occasionally even win. It was a battle of equal wit and smarts. A match to witness.
But this evening, Idia found himself struggling. Not because of the game but because Azul's newest obsession and he needed Idia's help.
“Just name your price and we can negotiate.” Azul's clear and benevolent voice slithered towards Idia, like a seawitch's tentacles wrapping around someone valuable.
“No.” For once Idia didn't stutter. Maybe it was because they were in the middle of a game, one of his favorite games in fact. The Court of Wonders, a board game of horror and mystery, taking place in an old gothic city based on Fleur City. Fully cooperative, roleplaying puzzle game with combat and story campaigns where the player characters could investigate, fight eldritch beings, die or worse, go insane and start sabotaging the fellow players. Idia had been so excited when he got the newest expansion for the game that he brought it to the club without a second thought. He had done the prep work for it ahead of time. He had a mental list of how he would convince Azul to play the game with him.
But he didn't need the list. Azul had accepted the choice of game way too easy. And now he knew why.
Azul let out a hefty sigh, trying to tug on Idia's heartstrings. Who would help the helpless, benevolent housewarden of Octavinelle? “You do understand that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity?”
Idia's brows knitted together in frustration as he gestured towards the game hoping that Azul would give up. “For you, now play your turn.”
“And I’m willing to compensate for your efforts. I’m not just a decent businessman, I'm a benevolent one!” The silver haired businessman smiled with controlled brightness, very sure of himself that he would eventually tear down Idia's defenses.
“Azul, it’s your move. What will your character do? We could really use more clues.”
“Listen, Idia, you aren’t understanding the gravity of the losses I’m having here. Through this Litae, I could be making thousands of thaumarks.”
To use his superior technical skills to locate one sorry student who had piqued Azul's attention? If anything, that sounded low tier D rank quest. Idia had better things to do than that. “I can make you a voice generation software, just play your turn.” He had already done the text-to-speech app for the presentations on the Culture event, doing a voice generation on top of that would be a piece of cake. He could look through the best voice banks and implement those to the learning algorithm. He would actually create something, not spy on someone's online activity.
Azul wagged his finger in front of him in protest. “No, no. That won’t do. I need the real deal.”
Why couldn't Azul just let it be? “I’m not going to use my free time to chase after some weird online voice.” The tips of Idia's hair started to shift their hue to more orange as his frustration started to morph into anger.
The change didn't go unnoticed by Azul. “... Very well, I didn’t want to do this, Idia, but you leave me no choice. Jade.” He looked at the door out of the classroom and Idia instinctively followed with his eyes to see the tall eel man with the most gentlemanly demeanor that hid something deep and dangerous beneath it.
The teal haired henchman gave his most polite smile to Idia, who's hair seemed to turn a bit paler in fear. “Yes, Azul.”
Before Azul could even give his orders to lynch the blue haired mage, tha panic had settled in Idia's mind. “Were you waiting for him to call you in like that?! Like some sort of BBEG?!”
“Jade here has some very interesting information on you, it would be a shame if someone made it public knowledge…” Azul crossed his hands in front of him and leaned in a bit, smiling deviously.
“... Wait wait, why are you taking this so seriously? Chill, dude, don’t you think you are going a little bit overboard with this? Like zero chill.” Idia saw how Azul loved to see him squirm under the pressure. He wasn't eager to let his browser history or his other cringe interested to be public knowledge. He was already half-way in becoming a social pariah, he really didn't need a boost for that.
“I just wanted to make sure that you understand how serious I am about this, Idia.” The merchant of the depths said his name with a singsong tune, happy about his victory in this game.
“Shees, I wish I could report you. … Fine.” Idia sighed and slumped in his chair, cursing the cephalo-punk in his mind.
“I’m glad we got into an understanding. Let’s discuss the details of payment.” Azul pulled a very official looking paper out of his bag, tapping it gingerly with an expensive onyx ballpoint pen.
***
It wasn't only the day for the Board Game club to gather, but also for the Film Research Club. All the members were busy with their newest project, a horror short film with stylized visuals and extravagant setting. Using the Night Raven College Campus for the setting was ideal, as the tall castle set the mood to the correct base line. [Y/N] loved the project idea. Even though their little family quirk could be used in many ways in performative art forms such as acting or singing, they loved creating stuff with their hands. It was a creative outlet, where their form or sound of their voice mattered little. Only what they created mattered and they poured their heart and soul into them.
They had just finished creating the base for a miniature hill with a large and bare tree on top and was preparing a glue mixture to cover it with. This served as the adhesive for the dirt, gravel and small pebbles. Vil had been very particular about the color of the ground so [Y/N] had to collect right colored rocks that could be grinded down to smaller size to fit the criteria. It was lot of work, but it was worth it. They would never admit it, but getting praise for a job well done from Schoenheit made them feel very proud of themselves.
While other members were busy with costume designs and hunting down the era specific props, [Y/N] had the workshop class all on their own. The Film Research club had used its funding to get all sorts of tools and smaller scale machines to help with the production, ranging from sewing machines to sawing machines. The big windows of the old classroom made sure the daylight filled the room and gave the best light to compare colors in different environments. Two huge workshop tables occupied the center of the room, the other now filled with all the tools [Y/N] would need for the miniature setting.
“And here is the last stop of the introductions." Vil's clear voice echoed clearly from the hallway as he opened the workshop door completely. Behind him floated a familiar figure to all Ignihyde students, Ortho. Idia's "little brother". A technomantic humanoid, a marvel of scientific potential. He seemed to scan around the workshop quickly, eager to take in everything he saw. Vil on the other hand didn't waste time as he strut with decisive steps to [Y/N]. "This is [Y/N], they are in charge of the special effects, practical and computer graphics. But as you know, the film industry is so saturated with CG that people like to see something real and tangible.”
As Ortho's face recognition verified that indeed, [Y/N] was part of the Film Research club, his eyes smiled. “Ah, [Y/N]! I was told that I wouldn’t be the only student from Ignihyde.”
[Y/N] lowered their headphones and gave a quick wave of hand to Ortho with a small smile. “Oh yeah, I did hear you joined the club.”
“Yes, I hope to understand human emotions better and be better at emoting them to others. I got special permission to enroll as a student here so I hope to be a good underclassman for you.” The young humanoid was eager to explain the situation, embodying the very essence of child-like curiosity.
[Y/N] gave a small laugh. They enrolled in NRC the same year as Idia, so it was weird to think Ortho as an underclassman. “... You have been here as long as I have been so I wouldn’t exactly say that you are an underclassman in that sense. But it is nice to see you excited about this.” Now that they thought about it more, Ortho seemed different compared to their first year. His movements and speech had evolved to be more natural, and one could see him hover alone at times, asking questions. Maybe he was trying to make sense of life even back then. But one had to admit, he seemed even more different now. [Y/N] wondered what had triggered it.
Ortho nodded enthusiastically, his eyes looking past [Y/N] and fixating on the miniature base model. “What are you working on?”
“As our current project is a short horror movie inspired by old school movies, we asked [Y/N] to create sets and effects to work in that context.” Vil was quick to take the center stage again, now looking at the work in progress on the table too.
“Yeah, what Vil said. This here will be a miniature set for an establishing shot for the movie.” Feeling already proud because of Vil's words, [Y/N] gestured towards the project. The little gray pebbles were now neatly placed as naturally as possible on the base, waiting for the glue to cure.
Barely audible sound of scanning took place as Ortho leaned closer to the project on the table. “Ooh, yes, I can see it now. You use hard foam as a base and then add details and such with other materials like polymer clay, artificial miniature grass and foliage to make it look like the actual environment. I’m familiar with it as I used to help my brother work on Pirates of Treasure Planet figures and battle arenas.”
The mentioning of the popular miniature strategy game made [Y/N]'s smile wider as the nostalgia flowed into their mind. “That’s pretty much where I picked it myself too. Well I didn’t play the game myself, but my older brother too used to be a huge fan of the game when he was younger.” Their brother let them help with painting the figures and designing the battle arenas that they then took to the local comic book store. The game itself seemed quite deep and complex, [Y/N] was more interested in the creative aspect of the hobby than actually playing the game.
“I see.” Ortho smiled.
Vil took a moment to look at the clock on his phone. “That said, have you informed the art club of our order?”
[Y/N] nodded, reaching out for their notes in their bag. As they grabbed the notepad, they could feel as the bag vibrated gently on silent. There was so many notifications coming a long. As soon as the club time was over, they would have their work be cut out for them. But every request would be a step closer to Wonderlink console. “Yes, I delivered the offer and advised them to send portfolios in the club email address. Right now there are couple applications but I haven’t checked them any further. I wait for couple more to arrive.”
“Very well. Forward the best candidates to me as soon as possible.” Vil would quickly take a look at his face through the front camera and then type a message to someone. He really was a busy and wanted person. Always going and reaching for new heights. One could hope to have such passion for everything that they did.
Ortho looked at Vil and then at [Y/N], trying to make sense of the conversation. [Y/N] gave a small shrug, it wasn't really a secret. “Candidates for matte painting for the background of this miniature set.”
“How exciting, you guys hire people from other clubs to work for the projects too?”
“Making films are collaborative efforts, dear Ortho. To get the best film, we need the best talent. Depending on the project, we might need a very wide range of talents to help with it.” Vil gave his signature pose whenever he was offering advice to anyone who just happened to be listening.
Ortho nodded and processed the information for a moment. “Say [Y/N], would it be okay for me to come to such meetings sometimes. I would like to know how these kinds of things really work in real life.”
“I don’t see a harm in that.” The idea didn't seem bad at all. Having someone like Ortho with such appointments would probably be very beneficial. He was an information bank and most likely had cameras installed into him. If some other student started to be too much of an arrogant bitch, they would have evidence. You never knew with students of Night Raven College, the S-rank troublemakers.
“Ah yes, the best way to learn acting and how people talk to each other is in the natural setting. I will allow it.” Vil gave his blessing, which meant that it was more than okay.
“Thank you!” Ortho beamed at Vil and turned back to [Y/N], his eyes fixating on their bag on the table. “Someone is really trying to reach you there. It is barely audible, but my sensors pick up vibration in frequency that would indicate that your phone is getting notifications.”
“Ah, sorry. Yeah, it is probably my friends sharing weird videos on magicam.” [Y/N] said as they pulled their phone out of the bag, the well worn phone charm dangling from it. A graphic presentation of constellations inside a silhouette shaped like a pegasus embellished with silver lines, giving it a look of an enamel pin.
The eyes of the young technomatic humanoid widen in recognition. “Is that the pegasus star system logo from Star Rogue?”
“Oh, yeah, it is.” [Y/N] moved the phone closer to Ortho, showing the small phone charm to him. It was an old charm, but it was beautiful. You rarely saw phone charms anymore, the smart phones rarely had any way to tie one on them. Even now, the old Star Rogue charm was looped around a self-made hole in the phone case.
“Me and Idia used to play that a lot when we were kids. It is one of my all time favorite games ever.”
Of course they would have played it. It was a cult classic. A legend of a game. The story, the graphics and the game mechanics were revolutionary when it was published. “It is a classic! I have played it too many times already, even tho I’m not that good at bullet hell games.” [Y/N] added.
“Maybe someday I can get Idia show you the no-death meteor run!” Ortho seemed more than happy to ask his brother to do that. Though [Y/N] had their doubts, it was already a rare sight to see the housewarden outside his room. Once in a full moon, the older Shroud emerged from his cave of a room and even then he tried not to draw any attention to him. Maybe he really just played all day and night in his room. Well, they could not be too mad about it, Idia still held best marks when it came to tests in school. Expect physical education. He really struggled with that.
“Oh, he has managed that? Serious props to him.” [Y/N] had to admit. It was a pretty amazing feat.
***
The cup noodles became too soggy again. Idia snarled but food was food and he had to eat something. Served him right as he got too immersed in the third volume of Sled Over Heels. It wasn't the newest anime around and the manga was only retelling of the anime, but the original creators were part of the writing process and he saw it 100%. Maybe one day he would learn to put on a timer and not trust his own judgement when 3 minutes had passed.
He sat into his gaming chair, the signed agreement generating damage over time, area of effect debuffing him, reminding him to do his "job". Major L. The agreement and the soggy noodles.
Fortunately, Ortho let himself into his big brother's room, enthusiastic as ever. “Hey Idia! How was the board game club today?”
“Ah, Ortho… It was a drag really… Azul was being crazy obsessed by some mystery entrepreneur and pretty much blackmailed me to help him locate them.” Idia didn't even look at Ortho's entrance, slurping on his meal and glaring at the official paper hoping it would burst into flames just then and there.
The smaller Shroud's eyes filled with worry and he approached Idia. “... You can’t let him do that. I will go to the Octanivelle dorm and have a chat with him.” He would. If no one else was his brother's friend and protector, he would be. It might have been his programming or the fact that his personality was based on Idia's dead younger brother, but he was always worried about him. Idia was quick to bend to his fate, whatever it may be. The depression and the social anxiety had him almost immobilized, and Ortho didn't want anything more than his brother to get better and find happiness and friends.
The offer made Idia's social anxiety raise its ugly head. “No, no no, no really, it is fine. I don’t want him to get super salty at me. It is already awkward to go to the club, I don’t really want the added awkwardness on top of that, plz.”
Ortho sighed. “Very well…” If Idia wished him not to say anything, he would respect his wishes. Even if it pained him. As much as it could pain a technomatic humanoid with artificial intelligence. But he wasn't sure if those were once again programmed emotions or was he truly feeling it. He shook his head. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Idia was feeling comfortable.
The silence that was born out of Ortho's submission to his wishes didn't help Idia's anxiety. “But hey, how was your club? The first day of the film study club.”
“Oh it was great! Vil showed me around and introduced me to everyone there. And guess what, I’m not the only Ignihyde student there.” Ortho didn't want to prolong the heavy atmosphere either and he truly felt excited about his day.
“Mm… I suppose there would be someone who would be interested in films here.” The older Shroud leaned back in his chair, trying to remember if there were any loud movie fans in the dorm. Or atleast any he talked to.
“It is [Y/N], they are from Class D of the third year” Ortho floated next to his charging station, preparing the device for the night.
Idia squinted. “... I have no recollection of them.” One would have to have a booming voice and loud opinions or otherwise eye catching for him to actually remember them. Someone like Malleus Draconia or the Leech Twins. Riddle Rosehearts made himself very unforgettable with his scary presence.
“Well anyway, they seemed super cool, and promised to let me observe as they would negotiate with other clubs for the film!”
“That’s pretty MVP behavior.”
“I know, right!”
Idia was happy to see his brother excited and making friends. At least one of them was and Ortho was always the more extroverted one anyway. It fit his character and Idia was content how the things were. Dealing with other people was tiresome and awkward. And with that thought, dealing with the stupid agreement he was blackmailed to agree to.“... Ortho, I would like to you to help me a bit with Azul’s demand. The entrepreneur in question makes personalized greetings for the clients, with the voices of known big wig celebrities or characters. If you could run your detection algorithm over the greeting I get to see if there is any indications of AI generation, patterns or pitches that could give us a lead for the person in question.”
Ortho tilted his head a bit as he assessed the brief. “Sounds doable. I suggest we choose a famous person who is well documented so we can compare the audio data against them.”
“Yeah. Hmm… How about Neige LeBlanche? He is pretty popular and active on Magicam so there would be lots of casual footage and professional quality audio to run the tests through.” Even Idia knew who he was, the rivalry between Vil and Neige was almost a meme on its own.
“That’s a good choice!” Ortho beamed and readied his audio sensors for processing the possible information.
Idia took his phone out and started to type in the contact information and request details for this mysterious Litae. The money would not be a problem, but his mind blanked as soon as he reached the request text box. “... What should I ask them to say…” He looked at Ortho.
“How about a good luck shout or encouragement? Or a good night's wish while playing one of their characters from a beloved film?”
“... Let’s go with that.” Who was he to shoot down the suggestion? He didn't have any better ideas. Hopefully this would give enough data that he didn't need to do this again. He typed in the request: "Neige LeBlanche. A good night's wish." He stared at the request details in silence only to admit that he didn't know any films starring Neige LeBlanche. So maybe his actor persona would be enough.
He pressed send and in ten minutes an audio file was sent to his spare email. There was no way he would use his primary email to something like this.
With a swift click of a mouse the audio file was downloaded and it played its contents clearly: “You look so sleepy… haha… maybe you should go to sleep. Don’t worry, I will bake you an apple pie tomorrow. Like I promised. Good night, my dream. Sleep well.”
It really sounded like Neige. No immediate detection of audio artefacts from audio generation. The voice was clear and soft.
And this all made shivers of cringe travel across Idia's back.
A little bit of Erika for this day. This sketch has sat in my files for so long, I wanted to draw something a bit lewd, and since now I have OCs that I feel like would feel confident in such situations, I gave it a go.
Maybe someday I will write and draw Erika more. I like her concept a lot. ^^
I will post the freed nipples version on BlueSky, but I don't think it adds much xd
Blue Sky || Cara || Ko-Fi || Commission Queue list
Everyone has their own traditions during the holidays, whether its handmaking ornaments together or hosting holiday parties. What is your favorite holiday tradition you’d want your favorite suitor to take part in?
╰❧ Daily Q's can be answered with your voice- or your OC's!
Nokto had found his way to his twin, shaking his head while letting out a dramatic sigh. The words of the 7th prince punched a violent cough out of Yves as the dainty prince was sipping his perfectly brewed tea.
Licht swallowed the remains of a sweet dariole and turned to Nokto. "How so?"
"She was all hunched over by the wall close by the castle kitchen, crafting a small door. She finally lost it." The signature grin decorated Nokto's thin lips as he sat on the setee next to his twin brother. "Told her that she was too big for that door."
Only Nokto was able to see as Licht's brows furrowed ever so slightly. He placed his plate on the table, gathered his gloves as he stood up to investigate this scene.
"I hope she told you were being rude. No matter what she was doing, you were being an ass." Yves gently and shiftly tapped his lips with a napkin, giving his usual lecture to the younger one.
"She told it was big enough for my soul." Nokto popped a small chocolate cookie into his mouth.
***
The corridors of the palace were busy, the winter holidays approaching meant that the whole castle needed its decorations for all the public events. With practiced ease Licht dodged the hasty servants carrying bells, winter rose arrangements and huge candelabras.
Nokto was indeed truthful in his words. Aino really was there, sitting as ladylike as she could on the floor, in front of a wall close by the castle pantry and kitchen. Her hands were arranging a small door, no higher than 30 centimeters, against the wall. Its wooden grain painted dark red with white details of simplistic stars and snowflakes.
Licht slowly moved next to her, looking down at the small decoration. "What are you doing?"
His words prompted Aino to look up, her eyes wide from embarrassment, only for her to return to the task at hand. "I... I'm putting up a door for the Jule elf..."
"The Jule elf?" Licht's voice had a curious undertone, even tho his expression stayed as it always was. Non-expressive.
"Mmm... Yes. It's a silly little thing. A superstition. I guess..." Aino took a tiny wooden planks to arrange like a porch in front of the door.
Aino took a deep breath, quickly brushed a runaway hair strand behind her ear. The unorthodox activity of crafting had loosened her updo a bit. The maids insisted that it was the best way to do her coarse hair. Licht didn't understand the logic. He found that he liked her hair, how it reminded of soft hay. Sturdy and warm.
"In Charoite... During this season, this way we let the Jule elf in to the house, visit the home elf and live with us. Protect the house, the residents and make sure all the festivities will go alright. ... It is like a protector of the home and hearth. And every building and place has its own protector." She placed a small felt piece on the small porch and turned to look at Licht.
"I see..." Licht stared at Aino and then turned to look at the door. "... It is an adorable door."
His words earned him a shake of a head, a quiet laugh and a warm smile. "I tried my best. I hope the elf likes it."
"I'm sure they will." Licht offered his hand to help Aino up which she accepted.
"Well I hope so. They might turn homicidal if they are displeased." Aino smoothed her dress and smiled at her fiance.
