Written with my friend’s oc @digitalsorcery in mind!! Potential ooc, first time writing in years and writing for twst.
* We all know Trey as the designated ‘Big Brother’ of Heartslabyul. He’s kind, patient, excellent in the kitchen, yadda yadda. What’s *not* to love?
* Except this young sir has a mischievous side! He enjoys fun, obviously, and likes pulling harmless pranks as seen with Ace and Deuce in book 1.
* But while he enjoys being the carefree big brother he does have a tendency to be lenient with his underclassmen. He is working on it after Riddle’s overblot but change doesn’t happen overnight. Enter our lovely Pomefiore student, Violet.
* Despite being a deer beastman, she isn’t timid to a fault and prone to freezing. She’s confident but not domineering. This difference allows the two to compliment the other well in their relationship.
* My friend, who created Violet, and I like toying with the idea of a parent day at NCR, so the following few bullets will go along with that idea!!
* Normally the students of NCR would see their relatives when on break, but wouldn’t it be nice if the parents of students could see how their children are faring at school? We know NCR is a really nice and prestigious school but that doesn’t mean the students are automatically succeeding.
* Trey’s parents were very loving and down to earth. The loved Violet the moment they met their son’s partner and were happy that he was in a healthy relationship.
* Violet’s dad on the other hand… hoof? Hoof-hand? Less than stellar finding out his baby was in a relationship with a boy. A HUMAN boy. Poor Trey being stared down by this hulking stag beastman when Violet introduced the two.
* Much like how the sea can be dangerous to live in, I imagine the forest can be as well, hence Violet’s dad being hesitant and not *as* accepting at first. Deer were prey animals.
* But he comes to terms that Violet isn’t a defenseless fawn. She is capable of standing up for herself and her friends. A little sad internally knowing she doesn’t need to rely on him anymore but is proud of the young woman she is growing into.
* But he does come around when he sees how well Trey treats his daughter. The upmost gentleman and how their dynamic is stable with a strong foundation. He accepts Trey a bit more into their relationship. :D
ushijima trying to win you over with his (not-so) elite flirting skills that has the grace of a falling anvil so he could court you.
wc: 1.7k, request
the sun was a violent, golden orb in the sky, beating down on the sand with the kind of intensity that usually only existed in ushijima’s serves. it was the sort of heat that made the air wobble and turned the ocean into a giant, shimmering bowl of blue gatorade. for the shiratorizawa boys’ volleyball team, this was ‘team bonding.’ for you, the manager, it was an exercise in preventing a group of elite athletes from devolving into sunburnt toddlers.
ushijima was currently standing over a charcoal grill with the same grim, unwavering focus he used to crush oikawa’s dreams. he was flipping burgers like he was executing a strategic maneuver. his muscles, which seemed to be carved out of the very granite of mount fuji, rippled under his sweat-slicked skin every time he moved the spatula.
“ushijima, if you stare at the meat any harder, it’s going to cook from intimidation alone,” you said, trotting over with a crate of chilled sodas.
he looked up, his expression as stoic as a statue in a high-security museum. “the heat must be distributed evenly to ensure maximum protein retention,” he stated. his voice was deep, like a landslide of velvet rocks. “would you like a burger? i have designated this specific patty as the most structurally sound.”
you giggled, the sound like wind chimes catching a breeze. “i’d love the structurally sound one, thank you.”
at that moment, something shifted in the tectonic plates of ushijima’s psyche. as you reached out to take a napkin, your fingers brushed against his wrist. to anyone else, it was a nothing-moment. to ushijima, it was a literal electrical surge that recalibrated his entire nervous system. he watched a bead of saltwater—from the ocean or sweat, he didn't care—roll down your collarbone, and suddenly, volleyball felt like a very small, very round distraction from the absolute masterpiece standing in front of him.
he realized, with the crushing weight of a thousand spiked balls, that he was utterly, hopelessly, and violently in love with you. it wasn't a gentle realization. it was a head-on collision with a freight train of affection. his heart, usually a steady, athletic thrum, began to do a frantic little jig in his chest, like a trapped bird trying to escape a cage made of ribs.
‘i must court her’, ushijima thought, his brain immediately switching to high-stakes mode. ‘i must demonstrate my value as a mate through superior provision and intense proximity.’
𓏵
the rest of the afternoon was… an experience. ushijima decided that ‘flirting’ was synonymous with ‘aggressive helpfulness and stating facts with extreme intensity.’
while you were trying to set up a beach umbrella, ushijima appeared behind you like a broad-shouldered poltergeist. he didn't say “let me help.” he simply took the pole from your hand.
“this umbrella is inefficiently angled,” he grumbled, his shadow swallowing you whole. “the uv index is currently high. i’ll create a fortress of shade for you.”
“oh, thanks, ushijima! you’re so thoughtful.”
he looked down at you, his eyes burning with a fervor usually reserved for winning nationals. “i’m not being thoughtful. i’m ensuring your skin remains undamaged by solar radiation. your complexion is… optimal.”
you blinked, wondering if you’d accidentally walked into a sci-fi movie where the hero was a very handsome, very confused robot.
later, as you were sitting on a towel trying to organize the team’s discarded flip-flops, ushijima marched over and sat down beside you. he planted himself like a sequoia tree. he then proceeded to stare at you for two minutes without blinking.
“is there something on my face?” you asked, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks that had nothing to do with the sun.
“you have a grain of sand near your ear,” he announced. before you could move, his massive hand reached out. his touch was surprisingly light, his thumb grazing your skin with the tenderness of a man handling a glass butterfly. he showed you the single grain of sand on his fingertip as if it were a diamond he’d mined just for you. “it’s gone now. you’re once again perfect.”
you let out a strangled sort of squeak. “thanks.”
“you’re welcome,” he said, puffing out his chest. “i’m very good at noticing details. for example, i’ve noticed that you haven’t drunk water in fourteen minutes. hydration is vital for the manager of a powerhouse school.”
he handed you a bottle of water that was so cold it was practically a solid block of ice. he had clearly been guarding it in the cooler like a dragon guarding gold.
𓏵
tendō, who had been watching this entire train wreck from the safety of his inflatable swan, was vibrating with unholy glee. he paddled over to the shore, his red hair sticking up in salt-crusted spikes.
“wakatoshi~!” tendō sang, dragging the “i” out until it sounded like a dying violin. “you’re being about as subtle as a neon sign in a dark alley. if you want to woo our lovely manager, you have to do more than report on her hydration levels.”
ushijima turned his intense gaze toward his teammate. “i’m providing. provision is the basis of courtship in many species.”
“yeah, but y/n isn’t a penguin, you big dummy,” tendō cackled, jumping out of his floaty. he leaned in, whispering loud enough for the entire prefecture to hear. “you have to be romantic. tell her she’s pretty! take her to see the sunset! give her your jacket even if she isn’t cold! girls love it when you act like their personal space heater.”
ushijima processed this. his internal processor whirred. “i’m naturally warm due to my high muscle mass. i can be a space heater.”
“that’s the spirit!” tendō slapped him on the back, nearly knocking ushijima into the sand.
𓏵
as the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple, neon orange, and a pink so bright it looked like a spilled strawberry smoothie, the rest of the team started packing up. the shouting of gishiki and shirabu faded into the distance as they headed toward the bus, leaving you and ushijima to do a final sweep of the area.
the beach was quiet now, the only sound the rhythmic shush-shush of the waves licking the shore. ushijima was carrying three heavy coolers as if they were made of feathers, but his eyes were glued to you. you were standing by the water’s edge, your hair blowing in the salt air, looking so beautiful that ushijima felt a genuine physical pain in his chest—like his heart had grown three sizes and was now too big for his ribcage.
“the sun is setting,” he said. it was a redundant statement, but he said it with the gravity of a king declaring war.
“it’s gorgeous,” you whispered.
“it’s acceptable,” ushijima corrected, dropping the coolers with a heavy thud. “but it lacks your consistency.”
you turned, eyes wide. “did you just… compare me to the sun, ushijima?”
he stepped closer, his presence looming over you, warm and solid. the smell of sea salt and his specific, clean scent wrapped around you. “the sun goes away every night. you’re always here for the team. for me. i find your presence… necessary. like oxygen. or a well-inflated ball.”
your heart did a spectacular backflip. “that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me involving sports equipment.”
ushijima reached out, his large hand cupping your cheek. he looked genuinely distressed by how much he liked you. “i’m not good at this. tendō says i’m ‘clueless.’ but i have a very strong desire to be near you at all times. i wish to be the one who ensures your safety and happiness. i would like to… court you. officially. with a permit if required.”
you laughed, a bright, bubbly sound that made ushijima’s knees feel like they were made of jelly—a sensation he’d never experienced in his life, and he wasn't sure he liked it, but he knew he wanted more of it.
“you don’t need a permit, wakatoshi,” you said, using his first name for the first time.
his pupils dilated so much his eyes looked like black pits of devotion. “you called me wakatoshi.”
“i did.” you stepped into his space, wrapping your arms around his broad waist. you felt like a kitten trying to hug a skyscraper.
ushijima didn't hesitate. he wrapped his massive arms around you, pulling you against his chest. being hugged by him was like being wrapped in a heated weighted blanket that could also bench-press 300 pounds. he tucked his chin over the top of your head, his breathing heavy and ragged.
“soon, i will be very good at being your boyfriend,” he promised into your hair, his voice vibrating through your entire body. “i’ll research the best dates. i’ll provide optimal snacks. i’ll defeat anyone who causes you even a minor inconvenience.”
“i believe you,” you giggled, snuggling deeper into his warmth.
you both sank down onto the sand, the coolness of the evening air beginning to settle. ushijima pulled you into his lap, treating you like a fragile, priceless treasure he’d just discovered on a deserted island. he leaned back against a driftwood log, his legs tangling with yours, his thumb tracing patterns on your arm that felt like liquid fire.
as the last sliver of the sun vanished, leaving the stars to pop out like spilled glitter across the velvet sky, ushijima squeezed you tighter. he was completely, utterly whipped, a giant of a man reduced to a puddle of affection by the girl in his arms.
“you’re very soft,” he murmured, his voice thick with a level of adoration that was borderline frightening. “i think i shall never let you go. that seems like the most logical course of action.”
you smiled against his chest, listening to the frantic, happy thumping of his heart—a heart that, from this day forward, beat exclusively for you and the occasional high-stakes volleyball match.
the bus driver honked in the distance, but ushijima didn't move. he was too busy inhaling the scent of your shampoo and deciding which wedding venue that would make you shine more, and what kind of house structure would have the best ceiling height for his future children’s vertical jump.
n: i toned down the stiffness of ushijima since i somehow ALWAYS get accused of AI whenever i use “i am”, “i have”, “i will”, etc. instead of “i’m”, “i’ve”, and “i’ll” 😭😭
bowl-cut enthusiast managed to trick a literal angel into liking him and now everyone is questioning reality.
w/c: 2.5k, request - reader is the ace of shiratorizawa girls vbc
the silence of the gymnasium was usually your favorite frequency. it was the sound of rubber soles squeaking against polished wood, the rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack of balls hitting the floor, and the steady, grounding thrum of your own breathing.
you were the type of ace who scored a point, adjusted your kneepads, and walked back to the service line without so much as a smirk. you weren’t cold; you were just focused. praise felt like a light breeze—refreshing for a second, but ultimately gone before you could even think to catch it.
then there was goshiki tsutomu.
goshiki was not a breeze. goshiki was a category five hurricane made of bangs, adrenaline, and a desperate, soul-deep need to be perceived by every living organism within a five-mile radius.
basically, you’re the calm center of a hurricane. goshiki is just the hurricane, but with more feelings and a worse haircut.
how the two of you ended up sharing a strawberry crepe every tuesday was a mystery that kept the entire boy’s volleyball team awake at night.
“i just don’t see the structural integrity of the relationship,” shirabu muttered one afternoon, leaning against the gym doors as he watched goshiki vibrate with excitement near the water fountain. “she’s a mountain. stable. immovable. he’s a… he’s a glitter bomb in a wind tunnel.”
“it’s statistically improbable,” tendō chirped, popping a grape into his mouth. “and yet, look at him. he’s practically leaking joy. it’s disgusting. i love it.”
even ushijima, the man who processed emotions with the speed of a tectonic plate, had paused during practice when he saw you waiting for goshiki outside. he’d blinked once, twice, and then looked at goshiki with a newfound, albeit confused, respect. to ushijima, you were the pinnacle of efficiency. to see that efficiency directed toward someone as chaotic as goshiki was like watching a master chef use a five-star kitchen to make a single piece of dinosaur-shaped toast.
goshiki, for his part, was well aware of his luck. he didn’t just love you; he worshipped the very ground your shoes touched. to him, you weren’t just the ace of the girls’ team—you were a celestial event. a supernova that had decided, for reasons beyond his comprehension, to let him orbit you.
the boy was down bad. he was drowning in the deep end, and he didn’t even want a life jacket.
“y/n! did you see that?!” goshiki shouted, sprinting toward you the moment practice ended. he didn’t just walk; he launched himself across the floor like a heat-seeking missile fueled by pure devotion. “did you see the line shot? it was at least eighty percent as good as ushijima’s! maybe eighty-two percent!”
you looked up from your sports bag, your expression as calm as a forest pond at dawn. you reached out, your fingers steady and cool as you brushed a stray lock of his fringe back into place. the touch was brief, a mere flicker of contact, but to goshiki, it was a holy anointing. his knees actually buckled.
“i saw it, tsutomu,” you said softly. “it was a good shot. your form was better than yesterday.”
that was it. no grand speech, no cheering, no “you’re my hero.” just a factual observation delivered with the gentle weight of truth.
goshiki looked like he was about to combust. his face turned a shade of red usually reserved for fire engines and overripe tomatoes. he started making a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a tea kettle reaching its boiling point.
“she… she noticed the form,” he whispered to the ceiling, his hands clenched into trembling fists of ecstasy. “the form was noticed. my life has peaked.”
“we have to go if you want that crepe,” you reminded him, swinging your bag over your shoulder.
he was moving before the sentence even finished. he scrambled to grab your bag for you—an unnecessary gesture since you were significantly stronger than you looked, but he treated your gym bag like it contained the crown jewels. he walked three paces ahead of you, then two paces behind, then right at your side, trying to find the perfect proximity that signaled “boyfriend” without accidentally tripping you.
the boy was a mess of limbs and longing. every time your pinky finger brushed against his sleeve, he gasped as if he’d been hit by a stray bolt of lightning.
at the crepe stand, he watched you eat with an intensity that was frankly alarming. he wasn’t even eating his own; he was too busy cataloging the way you held the paper wrapper.
“you’re so cool,” he blurted out, his voice cracking mid-sentence. “how are you so cool? if i scored half the points you did in the inter-high qualifiers, i’d have hired a skywriter. i’d have put it on a billboard. you just… you just walked off the court and bought a protein shake.”
you hummed, swallowing a bite of strawberry. “the game was over. there wasn’t anything left to do.”
“but the glory!” goshiki wailed, throwing his arms out so wide he nearly clocked a passing middle-schooler. “the destiny! the way the light hit your jersey! it was like watching a goddess descend to earth to personally dismantle the defense of dateko!”
you blinked at him, a tiny, genuine smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. you didn’t find his theatrics annoying; you found them fascinating, like watching a very loud, very colorful bird perform a mating dance. he was so full of life that it felt like he had enough for both of you.
“you have enough glory for the both of us, tsutomu,” you said, reaching out to wipe a smudge of whipped cream from his cheek.
goshiki froze. the world stopped spinning. for a moment, the only thing that existed was the sensation of your thumb against his skin. he looked at you with wide, watery eyes, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. he felt a sudden, desperate urge to do something magnificent—to jump over a building, to win the nationals single-handedly, to write a symphony in your honor.
instead, he just exhaled a shaky breath and leaned into your hand.
“i’m going to be the best ace in history,” he promised, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and thick with emotion. “for you. i’m going to make sure everyone knows that the guy dating you is someone worth looking at.”
“you’re already worth looking at, i’m looking at you.” you said, your voice a soft anchor in his stormy sea of ambition.
goshiki’s soul basically left his body. he spent the rest of the walk back to the dorms floating six inches off the pavement, muttering about how he needed to buy you a bouquet of flowers the size of a small shrub.
the following friday, the boys’ team were having a particularly grueling practice. coach washijo was in a mood, which meant everyone was being pushed to their breaking point. goshiki was struggling. his serves were hitting the net, his timing was off, and his confidence—usually his greatest armor—was starting to crack.
he was standing at the back of the court, staring at his hands as if they’d betrayed him, when the gym doors creaked open.
it was you. you weren’t there to make a scene. you didn’t shout his name or wave a banner. you simply walked over to the bench, set down a bottle of sports drink with a specific brand of energy gel taped to the side, and took a seat. you pulled out a notebook, likely for scouting or homework, and started writing.
the atmosphere in the gym shifted instantly.
goshiki’s head snapped up. he didn’t need a speech. he didn’t need you to tell him he could do it. the mere fact that you were there, sitting in your usual quiet, composed manner, was like a shot of pure adrenaline to his system. he felt your presence like a physical warmth, a steady light that cut through his frustration.
“goshiki! focus!” shirabu snapped.
“i am focusing!” goshiki roared, but this time, the roar had teeth.
he stepped up to the service line. he took a breath, bouncing the ball exactly four times. he looked over at you. you didn’t look up from your notebook, but you shifted your weight, a subtle acknowledgment that you were aware of him.
he launched the ball. he leaped. the contact was perfect—a sound like a gunshot echoing through the rafters. the ball blurred past the receivers and slammed into the back line, dead center.
“yes!” goshiki screamed, pumping his fists so hard he looked like he might dislocate a shoulder. he immediately spun around to look at you, his eyes searching for that tiny nod of approval.
you looked up, met his gaze, and gave him a single, slow blink. then, you tapped the top of your sports drink.
goshiki vibrated. he actually vibrated.
“did you see that?!” he turned to ushijima, who was standing nearby. “captain! she saw! the ace saw my power!”
ushijima looked from the crater on the floor to your calm form on the bench. “she is quite consistent,” he remarked, which was the highest praise he could offer. “it is no wonder you are so preoccupied with her. she provides a necessary counterbalance to your… volatility.”
“she’s the best thing that ever happened to me!” goshiki sobbed, wiped a tear of joy from his eye, and proceeded to play the best set of his life.
after practice, while the rest of the team was cleaning up, goshiki practically crawled to your side. he was sweaty, exhausted, and smelled like a locker room, but he looked at you as if you were made of starlight.
“did i do good?” he asked, his bravado replaced by a soft, vulnerable hope.
you stood up, picking up the empty sports drink bottle he’d drained during the break. you reached out and ran your hand through his damp hair, smoothing down the bangs that had been ruffled by the wind and the workout.
“you were incredible,” you said.
it wasn’t an exaggeration. it wasn’t a platitude. it was your honest assessment, delivered with that grounded, unwavering sincerity that made him feel like he was the only person in the world.
goshiki’s eyes filled with tears. he didn’t care that his teammates were watching. he didn’t care that shirabu was making a gagging noise in the background or that tendō was humming a wedding march. he surged forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“i love you so much,” he muffled into your collarbone. “i’m going to win every trophy for you. i’m going to build you a palace out of volleyballs. i’m going to—”
“tsutomu,” you interrupted, your voice a gentle hum against his ear.
“yes, my queen? my light? my guiding star?”
“you’re getting sweat on my jacket.”
he pulled back instantly, horror-stricken. “oh no! i’m a monster! i’ve desecrated the sacred fabric! i’ll wash it! i’ll buy you ten new ones! i’ll—”
you cut him off by leaning in and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead.
the silence that followed was the loudest thing in the gym. goshiki turned a color that shouldn’t be possible for a human being to achieve. his eyes rolled back slightly, and he let out a long, shaky exhale that sounded like a balloon losing air.
“okay,” he whispered. “sweat is okay. everything is okay.”
“let’s go home,” you said, taking his hand.
your fingers slotted perfectly into his, your steady palm against his frantic, pulsing heat. as you led him out of the gym, the team watched in stunned silence. goshiki was stumbling slightly, his head lolling toward your shoulder, a dazed, lopsided grin plastered on his face.
“i still don’t get it,” shirabu said, shaking his head as the doors swung shut.
“it’s simple,” semi replied, a small smile on his face. “he gives her the noise she doesn’t have, and she gives him the peace he can’t find on his own. plus, look at him. he’d jump off a cliff if she asked him to.”
“he’d jump off a cliff if she just looked at it for too long,” tendō added.
outside, the evening air was cool. goshiki had finally regained his ability to speak, which meant he was currently detailing his plan to become the top scorer in the nation just so he could mention your name in the post-game interview.
“and then,” he said, swinging your joined hands with enough force to potentially dislocate a normal person’s arm, “i’ll tell them that my girlfriend is the greatest ace shiratorizawa has ever seen! i’ll make them put your picture on the news! i’ll—”
“tsutomu,” you said, stopping in your tracks.
he paused, looking at you with wide, expectant eyes. “yes?”
you reached out and adjusted his collar, your touch slow and deliberate. you looked into his eyes—those bright, energetic, chaotic eyes—and felt a wave of genuine warmth wash over you. he was a lot. he was loud, he was dramatic, and he was currently trying to figure out how to buy you a literal star. but he was also yours.
you leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “you don’t have to tell the world anything. i already know.”
goshiki didn’t scream. he didn’t faint. he just stood there, his hand tightening around yours, his chest heaving with a sudden, overwhelming surge of devotion. he felt like he was glowing. he felt like he could fly.
he didn’t need the skywriter. he didn’t need the destiny speeches.
he just needed you to keep holding his hand while he figured out how to be the man who deserved it.
as you walked toward the dorms under the glow of the streetlights, goshiki started humming a song he’d heard on the radio, his thumb tracing circles over the back of your hand. he was still vibrating with energy, still the most extra person you’d ever met, but in the quiet space between your steps, there was a new kind of rhythm.
it was the sound of a boy who had found his center, and a girl who had finally found something worth making a little bit of noise for.
you felt the weight of his head as he finally settled it on your shoulder, his bangs tickling your cheek. he was finally, blessedly, quiet.
“i’m really glad you chose me,” he murmured, his voice finally matching the stillness of the night.
you squeezed his hand, the simple pressure saying more than a thousand grand declarations ever could.
“me too, tsutomu. me too.”
and as you walked into the shadows of the trees, the only sound left was the synchronized beat of two hearts that had no business being in sync, yet somehow, perfectly were.
n: as you can see, i really love jumping off cliffs.
Since I seen + read ur Lilia x fae reader.. can ye write Lilia x vampire reader 🥹 ( both 700 but ig she would be considered young since vamps live forever?? )
And like the reader was ALSO a general but for the vampires idk say vampires and vampire hunters got into a war or smth idk u pick what creature they fought idm !! )
She could be a carbon copy of him ngl and say she adopted twin girls ( let’s say gargoyles heh )
( I literally been borthering everyone for Lilia x vamp…GIVE THE OLD MAN SOME LOVE 💔💔 ps: I love ur work!! )
- 🩸🦇
Winter Soulmate
Synopsis. Who would've guessed that Silver gained a new mom and sisters over winter vacation?
Pairing. Lilia V. x Fem! Vampire! Reader
Contains. Reader has twin daughters (who are gargoyles), so much flirting, reader was a war general, set during winter vacay in Briar Valley, reader is around Lilia's height, one very suggestive comment
a/n. Lilia with a vampire wife is one of my favorite Diasomnia headcannons for LIFE
Winter break for Night Raven College has officially commenced! Lilia, Silver, Malleus, and Sebek were all right on their way home to Briar Valley. As they all parted ways, each to their own home, Lilia decided that before him and Silver got home that he would go out to get some groceries.
Walking into the store, Lilia heard the loud sounds of happy families who chatted and giggled in each isle. Clearly, all schools across the Twisted Wonderland were out for the holidays.
"Silver, can you go find these items for me? I'd like to make a celebratory cake for Christmas!" Lilia cheered after splitting his paper grocery list in two and giving one half to his son. Silver simply hummed as he set off to find everything on the list.
Lilia, all alone now, began browsing the aisles for his half of the list. To be honest, he wasn't sure of what a couple of the ingredients were, he just copied them from a cook book that he had lying around in his room as a birthday gift from his three boys (they begged him to use it because they didn't want to get poisoned again).
A rather short woman stood beside him in the spices aisle. She was quite stunning; sharp eyes, a chiseled face, the regal aura. Her (e/c) eyes scanned up and down each row, brows furrowed in confusion, "Why are there so many spices... what do humans even use all of these for?" She muttered to herself.
The man turned to her, "I don't understand this stuff either, humans are quite confusing." he smiled.
The lady smiled, her sharp fangs glimmering under the light of the store,"If only recipes had stuck to the old, traditional ingredients, perhaps I'd be able to understand them more. Yet, times have changed..." She huffed.
"Yes, I sent my son to find things I wasn't so sure of as he's more in touch with the human style than I am." Lilia giggled.
"Oh my Sevens, I did the same thing. My girls are finding the ingredients for cookies that they found on the internet..." The woman mused, "They're not even humans so I'm not sure how they know what to buy, but I trust their judgement."
"Oh? Your daughters are not human?" Lilia raised a brow. It seemed that neither the woman in front of him nor the girls she mothered were humans...
"No, I'm a vampire, my girls are both gargoyles."
Well now the man's interest was piqued! "Wow, I've never had the chance to converse with such an ancient creature like this! I myself am a Faerie, but like I said, my dear son is a human."
"My, and how did that work out? Is your wife a human?"
"No, I adopted the young man and raised him as my own. I've had no wife; just me and the boy." Lilia felt much pride retelling his little tale to the woman in front of him,"How about you, is your husband a gargoyle?"
"You'll find this amusing, but I also adopted my girls and I've yet to find myself a husband in all of my hundreds of years of living!" The woman laughed out loud at her words,"In my prime, I was the general of the Vampire militia in the great Vampire and Hunter war; I would've had no time at all to find a man for me."
This woman was completely full of secrets to Lilia.. the more she revealed, the more he wanted to learn."You were a general? Goodness, as was I-- I was the general of the Fae knights in the Faerie and Human war! We seem to have lots in common."
"It seems we do!" The woman then tucked a lock of her (h/c) hair behind her ear, "Would you care to tell me your name, or will I have to look in a history book to find out?" The woman teased.
"My name is Lilia Vanrouge, you are?" Lilia said with a smirk, putting his hand out for her to shake.
"I'm (y/n) (l/n). It is quite the pleasure to meet you, General." (y/n) winked, placing her hand in Lilia's and firmly shaking it.
"My goodness, your hands are frigid." Lilia exclaimed.
"Get used to it, I plan on holding your hand more often after this~"
Lilia's smile widened across his lips, clearly enjoying the woman's company. "Then perhaps I could invite you to my home tonight and you could put your chilling hands all over--" "Father, I'm back/Mother, we're back!!"
Three voices said -- two female and one male. As the two former generals turned around, their children were right behind them with their arms full of ingredients.
"Mom, we couldn't find eggs!" one of the sisters said.
"It was all that guy's fault! He took the last carton!" the other sister exclaimed, pointing right at Silver who was in his own world with Lilia.
"Father, some things were unavailable so we may need to go to a different store. It seems like everyone was reaching for the baking soda today..." Silver said calmly with a glare that was directed at both girls.
(y/n) and Lilia looked at each other in shock, then began to giggle at their children's antics.
"My goodness you three..." (y/n) sighed as she placed the new ingredients in her shopping cart.
Lilia patted his son's shoulder, "Calm yourself Silver, I'll be inviting this lovely woman over for dinner tonight. Be kind around her daughters, please."
The three teens all looked at each other in utter shock.
"Mom.. what did you two talk about while we were away..." One of (y/n)'s daughters whispered.
"Oh nothing much..." The woman brushed off.
Lilia smirked over to the woman, "Oh, but we did~"
(y/n), slightly scandalized, gasped with a small smile on her cherry red lips, "Shush, not around our children!"
"Oh my Sevens, Mooom..." The girls grumbled, looking away in disgust.
Silver simply sighed, looking away in more embarrassment...
"Then I guess I'll see you later, Lilia."
"Yes, see you later (y/n)." He smiled, quickly writing his home address on the back of his grocery list.
The man's red eyes practically turned into hearts as she slipped the paper into her top. She blew a kiss and waved goodbye as her girls bickered beside her.
Silver then noticed something, "Didn't you need that list, father?"
"Oh, we'll be fine, just pick ingredients with your heart! That's what I always do."
Pray for everyone going over to Lilia's house later.
ft Malleus, Riddle, Leona, Ace, Deuce + Crowley just for the giggles
Riddle Rosehearts
His day was going perfectly well until you decided to prank him- and bless his heart he doesn't ever remember days like April Fool's.
You come up to him very serious, the epitome of cold. "Riddle we need to talk." Riddle stops midway drinking tea.
"What's wrong my rose?" He says so sweetly you feel bad for what you're about to say.
"I want to break up with you." You say trying not to break character. Riddle's face becomes pale and his eyes widen.
"... Did I do something wrong? Was I too strict again?" He says looking down. "I-I am sorry I should have been-" You cut him off by jumping into his arms feeling so guilty and sorry for playing such a prank on him.
"Riddle nooo! It's April Fool's day it's a prank I'm so so sorry!" You say quickly and hug him tightly.
He blinks. Blinks some more. He gets red. From anger? Embarrassment? You can't tell.
"You owe me a tart for this." He says through clenched teeth but hugs you back.
You'll make him two.
Leona Kingscholar
He was taking a nap in his room peacefully when you decided to ruin it by your loud entrance. He prompts up in one arm and sighs.
"Leona, I want to break up." You say very seriously. But Leona just raises an eyebrow. He is aware of what day it is- he played many April Fool's pranks on Neji as a child.
"And I want to be King, we can't have everything in this life."
"Come on Leona react a bit!"
He stands up and in a quick stride of his legs he throws you over his shoulder and pulls you to bed with him.
"Leona!"
"You'd have to try better than that if you want to prank me herbivore." And with that you're caged in his arms until he decides to wake up. Good luck.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus isn't above playing a harmless prank when he's feeling particularly mischievous- he's a fae after all. He only learned of April Fool's recently, courtesy of Lilia Vanrouge.
So when you seriously told him you want to break up he immediately understood what was going on- and he absolutely had to play along.
"Malleus, we have to break up, our differences are too vast. I'm sorry." You say putting on your best sad face.
Malleus nods solemnly. "I understand my beloved. I will respect your choice. Now we have to do the seven rituals of disengagement."
"We are engaged-?"
He puts his hand in his chin as if he's thinking. "Although you'd have to be a fae like me to be able to do the rituals at all. I guess we are stuck together. A most unfortunate turn of events."
"Malleus it's just a prank!" You say flustered, confused and happy?
He just smiles smugly. "I know. It's "April Fool's day" is it not? Though beloved, I'd be very very sad if I had heard your words not knowing it was a prank." A dark look passes on his eyes for a moment.
"Sooorry Mal..." You say meekly. "But.. do such rituals even exist? Did you imply we are engaged?"
He just gives you a cryptic smile.
Ace Trappola
Ace played way too many pranks on you. You expected he'd be insufferable on April Fool's day. But to your surprise he didn't try anything. He was too bummed about having to re-take a test he failed at.
So you decided to fill in with your own prank.
"Ace, I want to break up." You say casually sitting next to him. "It isn't working out."
Ace shrugs. "Yeah, you're too much of a goody two shoes for me. Thanks for putting me out of the trouble of saying it first." He smirks.
You gasp and slap his shoulder. "Ace! It's April Fool's day I was just joking!"
He starts laughing so hard he wipes his tears. "Oh you should have seen you face! I know what day it is, duh. You can't fool me sweetheart." He puts down his book and stands up.
"How about we go play a real prank on the idiot Juice? Show you how it's done? My eyes hurt from all that reading." He gives you his hand.
"Deal". You take it.
Deuce Spade
Deuce was currently fixing an old Magical Wheel he found. He was very eager to make it work again that he forgot what day it was.
You hesitated. It was Ace's idea. Deuce looks so concentrated and happy fixing the old bike. Ace will call you a chicken for months if you didn't. You walk towards Deuce.
"Hey ah Deuce...?" You tap his shoulder.
"Woah! You scared me." He rubs the back of his head. "What's up? We didn't have a date did we?!" He looks frantically to his phone to check his planner (he forgets a lot).
"No no! Actually... ah... I want to... break up..." You say weakly.
Deuce widens his eyes. "What? Why?" He wipes his hands on a towel to grab your hands. "Please let's talk it through-"
"No I don't wanna break up! I'm sorry Deuce, Ace talked me into it, it's an April Fool's prank!"
Deuce's eye twitched at the mention of Ace. He's angry. "It was suspicious how quiet he was today. Now I know why. Oh he's got it coming." He cracks his fists.
RIP Ace 🕊
Dire Crowley
As the wife of Dire Crowley you knew firsthand of his shenanigans and how irritatingly irresponsible can be. But what can you do? You love that man much to your dismay.
Today it's April Fool's say and you decide to get your blood back for once by pulling a prank on him as soon as he returns home.
You grab a suitcase and pretend it's full of your stuff ready to leave him. Dire walks in with a dramatic display of tiredness. He sees you and stops.
"What's the meaning of this? Where are you going?!" He looks at the suitcase and back at you frantically.
"I am done Dire! I can't deal with you anymore. I want a divorce." You say seriously and finally.
"Nooo! My darling, we can surely talk it through! Maybe visit a marriage counselor?! Please I cannot give you half of my property if we divorce!"
"Dire-?" You start to say bamboozled.
"What about our poor kids? You cannot take them away from their father they need me! They will have therapy for this and become problematic adults."
"Dire we don't even have kids yet!"
"So they don't even exist to you huh? I see how it is. How heartless you are!" He starts crying as if all the woes of the world found him.
"DIRE IT'S A PRANK! Although I'm starting to rethink it."
"... Oh... Oh o-of course I knew it was a prank! Silly you, of course you love me too much to actually leave me right?" He says happily pulling you close hoping he saved it.
"You're lucky you're handsome." You say with a defeated sigh. Maybe you won't divorce him today.
Huge shout out to all the people who read fics. Who actually take the time out of their busy days to open a fic and read it
Before I started writing in earnest, I did not understand how much writing was going to eat into my fic reading time. We joke about having too many tabs open, but I have a different problem: the amount of tabs I have open on new fics is way smaller than it used to be. My ao3 wrapped would be a sad affair. Unless I’ve subscribed to an author or come across something on my dash, I basically don’t see it
Which has really driven home for me how much fandom cannot just be creators. You have to have people who want to read fic and meta discussions and joke posts. You have to have people who want to look at art and gifs. It has to be mutual.
Community thrives on flow. You have to have that movement of people sharing things with each other for a community to exist
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