Hrid from Fire Emblem Heroes. I wanna make body pillows so badly of my favorite blorbos

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Hrid from Fire Emblem Heroes. I wanna make body pillows so badly of my favorite blorbos
And what if Hrid could also join the festivities....
Dunno if tumblr will bonk me for this but I’m risking it
FEH channel version☁️
Pretty in Pink Ch2
Pretty in Pink 2: In Which the Summoner
image by @fisheem4mmal (super amazing, commission from them absolutely professional and delightful)
Word Count: 7.5 k
fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes (FEH)/ Twisted Wonderland
Tags: Idia gets robbed, Isekai, references to pop culture, hot woman, divergent from opening ceremony
Chapter: The Awakening
Loneliness wasn't something associated with Victoria.
Rather that was the assumption one makes when they see her. One would first spot her, dancing in the dark, her sequin dress glittering with stray rays of neon, accompanied by a gate of wandering faces, her bright golden eyes would draw you close adding you to her collection. Once aware of her, one would become aware of the others around her. Surrounded by crowded bodies of her mentors, friends, paramours, and family; one could barely get a scant moment with her alone. In her final hours, surrounded by her fellow vessels, their weapons held high above the crumbling bodies of demons, she laid down with them sealed away in the burning furnace beneath a mountain. When death came, instead of seeing a clear fountain or hearing the familiar rustle of golden feathers—she had stepped into a lush landscape overabundant with green trees, white capped mountains and high glittering castles whose tallest towers pierced the heavens. There, she could be found in the company of heroes and villains alike, who crossed the stars, the clouds of heavenly stardust and came in spirit to aid the realm of Zenith from all sorts of peril. Victoria stands at the helm, on each side of her, Princess Sharena and Prince Alfonse, with the Order of Heroes right behind her, numerous as the stars, glittering with their armor and weapons like the sea stars on the shores of Maldive.
Neither she nor the Heroes were there just for show.
When war rises so does the Order of Heroes who come down to stop mad man, mists of fae, and the ever so scornful gods. Regrettably, even a sword must be used against those who lost themselves to overwhelming loss and betrayal; their vengeance turning onto the innocent. Victory charged with them in their battles, when they won—for a moment the realm was content.
Nothing ever ends, but they all had to rest at some point. Even her. Summoner of Askr, vessel of The Sword. High titles bring duties that took much of her time. In spite of the exhaustion it left her—-restless feet that couldn’t stand still anymore, her mind heavy with dreams that spoke with mystery—the sight of union, the visceral joy in reuniting torn apart families; It was worth it. Happy tears, children finally meeting their parents and vice versa; that too mends the thick wound in her heart. From dawn to dusk; studying history from worlds; building bonds and camaraderie; her own life set on hold. Even if she can only spare five minutes for a brief chat, Victoria would devote herself to them.
Hrid called those few moments he had with her as gems; for how precious they were. The silver haired prince was reserved but so genuinely earnest. He was sweet in a way his words born from a stoic tongue, would ignite her core with just a few choice words. Usually Victoria would preen or even tease him for his honesty—instead his words sent a blooming flush of shyness through her. He wasn't shy with his gaze, not the way he touched her hand, never overstepping but rightly assured with his touches. That smile! Those teal eyes! His hands were cold, but they wrapped around her own so carefully, as if she would break under his touch. She had to be careful around him, men like him were dangerous. Just like Alfonse. Just like Lif.
She should wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up!
Awaken—!
With a sharp inhale, Victoria jolts awake sending a wave of nausea throughout her body. The world spun around her, a noiseless grunt reverbs in her chest as she wills herself to still. Cradling her head, she felt it throb painfully, her body aching like she had been run over. She didn't remember anything aside from the gates, dust everywhere and a large shadow charging with a thunder chasing. ‘---Oh,’, she thought dumbly,’So I did get hit by a horse.’ She was alone, and woke up in a very strange place. Everything around her was dark, there was no light, nothing to indicate that her eyes were open had she not blinked. She waved her hand in front of her, but she only felt air slip between her fingers. She cocked her head to hear something; anything; but she became aware of her blood circulating and her heart thumping underneath her ribs.
‘Oh not again, so soon? Just when we're about to celebrate?’
Waking up in a dark isolated place wasn't out of the norm for her. All her life from before and to her current life in Askr had Victoria taken to the hidden lairs of whatever enemy was of that year. She checked herself. First, she searched her body making sure everything was in place and that she had some source of light. She touched her hips, her waist, searched between her breasts for her phone –nothing!-- and even curled her legs to feel her heels. All she felt was the silky cloth, damp and heavy swirling around her calves, down to the smooth arches of her feet.
‘My heels? Where are my heels!’
Her face! Immediately she touched it, a wave of relief went through her as she could still feel her own features. It was her inheritance, after all. She was still dressed, albeit missing her heels and her phone…and the Breidablik.
Breidablik!
A sharp pang of panic came, but she stills that fear before it soured her heart. If she became scared, there was nothing she could be able to do if she lost herself in that second! With a slow inhale, her body relaxed itself as she focused on the image of the white golden body of the divine weapon, a connection between Summoner and Breidablik, she tugged at the thread sending it.
With a sharp thrust of her arm, she commands ‘Breidablik!’ A grand power surged calling forth the old relic, but it failed to come. When the gift of Askr did not appear, she called forth her dear sword and that too stayed absent from her side, even as her soul desperately beseeched it. For once, her mind was silent; not one whisper of murmuring angels nor the hums of souls tied to her own.
No way of contact….
Victoria was utterly alone.
‘Move, you cannot stay here,’She tells herself,’No one can hear you in this dark place.’ If Breidablik or her sword cannot find her, then Victoria knows Alfonse cannot find her in this desolate realm.
God, what of Lif? Her heart ached,’ My Alfonse? Oh Sharena!’
From the silence a soft trill spills through like thick waves in the void, its keen noise so high it almost sounds mute, drudges through the dark. It crashed through her, calling her to look at it.
Victoria turns. If she listened closely she could hear a light thrumming buzz of what sounded like the old TVs back in her old home. The hum of static felt like rain, pouring over her, flowing through ear to ear, coming sharply before fading away. Victoria’s ears ring, she kicks her feet but she feels nothing, her feet hanging listlessly as she did. The realm is weight-less, there is no ground and no walls. Just space. So Victoria began to swim, her long legs swathed in muslin silk. Her veil clings to the contours of her face, the white silk trailing behind her, a ghostly fish in the dark moana.
She twirls her body forward, her core burning as she swims with her makeshift tail. It felt soothing, as if she was a mermaid, arching into graceful whirls and big looping circles with her veil trailing behind her.
‘Where am I?’ she wonders, staying quiet. Just because it looked like she was alone didn't mean she was entirely alone. Some creatures prefer the absence of light, to hide their sinful acts or for others to hide away from what they are afraid to be seen by. Victoria was neither of these things and yet here she was; another drifter with no end or beginning in sight. After what felt like hours, there in the vast void a star appeared in her vision. Before her a white light pulsed–in and out, in and out–; growing stronger; bigger until it bursts into a supernova! Blinded, Victoria shuts her eyes the light, spots of peppering circle fluttering behind her eyelids. When it dimmed, no longer a threat of blinding her, did Victoria slowly open her eyes. From a small speck the light grew taller and wider, but it didn't come closer. Even with its sudden strange arrival, Victoria swam towards the bright beacon in the ocean of isolation. As she drew closer, a faint murmur of sound cut through the rainfall of static.
The first signal of life came with a voice.
“--Stupid!”
It rose, irritation overlaying a thick slab of anxiety, filled with groans made from weary reluctantness. While the tones were familiar, the voice wasn't anyone she knew in Askr.
The second came soon after, a dust of motes bloomed from the screen. Colorful specks of beads--- made of greens;reds;blues and yellows-warring along the blinding whiteness until something human appears. Fire. Bright blue flaming hair that rose from his head, cascading down his back, his thin lips were of a darker blue, all contrasted by his pallid complexion—with his thin frame and gloomier expression, he reminded her of the cohorts of Hel. What distinguishes him from the undead were his eyes. Eyes bright as polished yellow tourmaline stone, looking down at her— blue brows furrowed with a sneering grimace. He was pretty in that depressing unwashed way.
Behind him, she could see plastered all over his walls were posters of movies, anime, stuffed dolls of imps and characters, littering along tall bookcases; each shelf lined with books ranging from glossy covers and older cracked spines. All paragons of a modern fan, but what grabbed her attention is the sleek energizer in the corner of his room.
“Oh my God,” Victoria breathes, her body shaking in excitement," Oh my God! He's a bona fide genuine nerd!”
Electricity! Through all the worlds Victoria has come to know and travel, many were stuck between a fantasy that was bordering medieval times fused with apocalyptic aftermath— but not one world had what she really wanted. What she really craved, the addiction for power thrumming under her nails that even divinity cannot replicate. As divine power was genuine, not something to willingly falsify itself for. But this one! This one had potential. Victoria swam closer, lured by this desire that shook her hands and toes. “I bet you have Internet,” she murmurs with wonder.
“Is this what I’m missing out on?” He complained and it took a moment for Victoria to understand what he was saying. She leans in, eager to hear what was being said. The scent of gossip coaxed her to come closer. With one curious ear she heard names–-Roseheart, his brother Ortho, normies, and something about a ceremony— all new things to her. And that too made her wary. Resting herself against the warm glass, a shiver of electricity scurry along her skin, but it didn’t hurt her. From her touch the image shook, struck by a plague of dark splotches and warping green skin that had crawled from one edge to the other. The nerd shrieks and Victoria snatched her hands away.
Once again, the screen shaped itself back to normal. ‘Is this–?’ She tilts her head, curiosity fluttering beneath her skin,’I can push it’. Around her, the dark became a rich glacial blue like the icebergs that formed in the seas beyond Nifl. As if someone had turned the knob on a radio, the static rainfall slowly replaced by a familiar haunting song. The voice stopped suddenly, a faint tremor of his voice traveled through the static,”Hello?”. Kicking her feet, Victoria pressed her palms against the glass, forcing her entire weight against it. With a sharp rap of her knuckles, she signaled at the man behind the side of the glass.
She heard a screech of something scraping against wood, a heavy thud soon followed by this wrenching sound of gasps.
The heavy noises sounded louder, wheezing through filters like an old module, but she still couldn't see him! Victoria curls her legs, crowding the glass and finally—presses her face against electric light, revealing her to the other human on the other side of the screen. He hid, hunched over a gamer's chair, wide eyes fixed on her– Victoria's ego sore that it's not with filled admiration that she usually invokes– the whites of his eyes more pronounced than the brilliant yellow of his iris. His glossy blue lips shriveled into a dried iris bud, jerks of laughter came out in sharp wheezing huffs
“Poor thing,” she murmurs, watching how his chest heaves with every breath,”I must be scaring him.”
Hear me….
Turn yourself….
Ice shoots through her veins, her heart kicking against her ribs as a voice spoke behind her. It wasn't this guy in front of her who spoke; he would make a sad sight for anyone who saw him. No, this voice was smooth as marble and cool as rain, coiling itself around her, coaxing her to turn back to the darkness. ‘Don’t,’ Victoria shakes, her heart jumping in its place,’Get out of here.’ In the dark, a pair of lips rest against her cheek, the shock keeping her in place as it mouths its secret to her:
Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor…
My proud, beautiful flower of evil.
You are truly the fairest one of all.
O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat…
Reveal unto me the visage I seek…
A hand caressed her calf and Victoria shrieks. She kicked wildly, crushing cold flesh that touched her. Her scream thundering through the still night. With a new sense of urgency, she slapped her hands against the glass, the familiar song warbling with a whining groan as Victoria forces herself into reality. With every inch, she swayed, feeling the world spin around her as she struggled to get herself free. Her hands were burning by the living static, its electric layer buzzing through every strand of her muscles stripping away at her core. She had to get out of here, before whatever grabbed her could find her again. “Take my hand!” Her voice distorted by the static sounding hollow and shrill,”What are you waiting for!”
With every inch she took, Idia's breathing became louder.
Her hand slips through the glass, cool air soothing her burning skin. Victory!
Frightened blue flames rose with every heaving breath, rising from his chest. Eyes wide with terror watching the flowering crown break beyond the pixel glass; her veil parting like the sea tide. Behind her, she could hear the beckoning voice come again to lure her away. From the dark, a cold clammy hand grabbed her ankle tugging her back, its voice becoming louder, threatening, demanding her to follow it back into the dark abyss . She could feel her heart ready to force itself through her throat, adrenaline burning her muscles as she fought to free herself,” Take my hand and don't let go!”
From his flubbering lips slipped out his piercing scream.
.
.
“Ugh, why does this have to be such a big deal,” Idia drags his hands down his face, falling back on his chair, complaining,” Could have done this all over video!”
He was going to the ceremony, he promised Ortho after all. He just needed a boost! The spite that came from Riddle earlier had ebbed into that low festering anxiety that crept into Idia at the thought being around so many people. They're going to be whispering about him, he just knew it.
“Who's that weirdo with the flaming hair?” Idia mocks himself as he boots up his account, muttering,” Stupid. Can't deal with all these normies, Riddle doesn't understand what I've had to deal with!”
His screen had only one window open, the cheery neon lights loading the current updated model of Midnight Gospel: Isolation. The current remake of an old indie game was pretty good, Idia begrudgingly admits. He was afraid with all the recent wave of disappointing remakes, this one was going to be adding to the statistical failures of overconfident companies.
Thankfully it wasn't even close to that. The screen loads, the cutesy image of a city in bright neon fades into a row of characters, seven main routes to play. However, only one in particular, has his attention. She stands there, his bias. A tall curvy woman of brown skin; a mane of dark brown hair; gold eyes that held fierce confidence beneath thick dark lashes, paired with a teasing smile that completes her sensual air she was known for. A fan favorite, but to Idia she was so much more than just her looks. Popping up next to her was her bedroom that Idia had painstakingly grinded to overfill with her favorite things. A set of voice lines, over 100 to be exact, each one listed with specific events and days.
Victoria: Pep Talk-Heart Rumble 💞
“Just a boost,” He mumbles, his mouse hovering over her voice lines,” Do it for Ortho.”
But then she blinks, vanishing from sight leaving only a static silhouette behind.
“Wait,” Idia squinted, sitting up,”Where'd she go?” Leaning over, he hunches over the keyboard as the game stalls,”Oh I knew it was going to bug! I always figured it out at the beginning but I knew it –!”
A loud knock bulged through his screen.
“Aughh!” Idia screams, throwing himself away from his computer, knees slamming into the sides of his bed throwing him off his momentum. “Gah– fuck!” Idia’s knee throbs, hair flickering between red and blue, distress from whatever in Tarturas’s domain, just appearing on his screen. He heard it! Idia saw it!
He thought he was just hearing things—thought it was Riddle coming down like a hammer of unwarranted justice, the little tyrant—-but it wasn’t from his door. A whirl of unease pools in his already nervous stomach. The pressure to attend the stupid normie ceremony crashing down on him was more than enough to excuse him from going, but he didn’t want to disappoint Ortho; but he heard it. The sharp rap of knuckles that bulged out his screen right in front of him.
His screen flickers, dying, blotched with the plague of sickly green and deep blue, the familiar song of Midnight Gospel spills out of his speakers. Its smooth intro echoes through the static rainfall that overpowers it.
“W-What the fuck,” Idia looks around frantically, nerves wracking between annoyance and fear,”Hey! Who's messing with my screen!” His next words die on his tongue as his screen is cleared of any windows in a violent shutter, static shaking across the video call he had set up, before settling back to an unnerving deep blue.
“No way! This is something outta an Evans Bergspiel film!” Idia wheezed, hiding behind his chair. This has to be some kind of prank someone's pulling on him! “Ha ha!” Idia said mockingly behind his chair,” You're all hilarious–! Real comedians! Cut the crap, you can't scare a real—eek!’
Even with a possibility of (impossibly) getting hacked or a virus from a dodgy site he may or may not scroll through – nothing scares Idia more than the sudden smack of palms on his screen. Shoving, pushing, palms slapping until a woman's face stared right at him, her dark hair floating like ink around her. Her eyes scared him. Helios stares at him, shining embers burning with desperation, freezing him in place. For one horrible moment, Idia could taste acid climb up his throat with every beat of his heart.
Gross. Idia swallowed, as his hands groped the wall behind him, forcing himself to get on his feet. “This isn't real, not funny at all,” Idia said, his heart thumping painfully in his chest,” Ortho!” This had to be a joke, one his little brother’s attempt to get him out of his room.
Then it happens.
With a loud whamp—her hands break through, gripping the sides of the hologram, pulling herself out of the digital realm. Idia’s heart squeezes in his chest, as the woman's head pushes out, bending light around her beautiful face like an electric glacial veil. Ice rushes through his body freezing his shaking bones— a quiet whimper settles in his throat.
It's impossible, his mind thinks. It had to be someone messing with him! This was just like My 2D Girlfriend Came to Life or LOVE🌟COM where the protagonist synth singer Kami Tsune comes to the real world–
His fantasy crashes apart on the concrete of reality as the ghostly bride screeches. A loud, ear piercing horror spills from the woman's lips, a symphony of the archaic scatter of clicks, scattering static and a wave of white noise crashing through Idia's body— shaking his fleeing nerves into overdrive. The ghoul arches, thrashing; her golden eyes bright beneath the net of electricity, she lurches forward, her hands clawing at him.
“Skreehhh-!” Her veil flares up, a tidal wave of lace and brimming static.
“G-Geh! Ghoul!” Idia shrieks away, legs shaking as he runs out of his room,” It had a nose and everything!”
He fled, his robes left behind as he ran from the ghoulish woman, his hair lashing at the walls in his haste.
.
.
—-In haste he collided with the wall, a heavy crack resounded as he bounced off it. Victoria winces feeling the second hand embarrassment from watching him fall, curled over and absolutely knocked out. Whatever sympathy she did have was put on hold as she tried to escape—she didn't budge another inch. Instead she hung awkwardly out this guy's computer. “God, I'm stuck here like some terrible paperback erotica, with some creep tickling my feet,” She said to Blue Flames, who had no opinion. Because he was unconscious. She chuckles the nearest thing close to her—a stuffed imp plush- at him,”Wake up!”
It had no effect!
Despairing, as if to find some patience, Victoria looked upon the pale cieling–– and froze.
Stuck on the ceiling, tastefully framed, was a familiar face. The soft lighting of the poster highlights her cheeks, the sharp golden eyes and thick lashes lowered— a look she’d practiced until it became natural —a bewitching gaze. Thick dark hair, shapely lips, and the body she was so prideful of– all picturesque on this guy's ceiling. You can call her vain all you want, but Victoria can recognize what she looks like! And that there was definitely her! Even the small beauty mark dotted over the apple off her cheek was right there! Under her left eye!
Where, her doppelgränger, lay across the poster with a beckoning expression that had made the knees of weak men wobble, was scantily dressed. A pretty tiny red dress that had successfully gotten Victoria things she wanted with just a tactical sway here and there, her signature keyhole stockings and lastly her pride and joy, the thick chestnut fur coat under her. Overall it's a very sexy poster of herself she would have been proud to have. The real life bonafide version however, was dripping all over this man's keyboard and carpet.
“That's me,” she said dumbly, a rush of passionate ire warms her cold body, her voice rising,” That's my fur coat!---My red dress!”
Even the large heavy hoops that dangle from her double’s image matched the ones that hung from her own ears! All the outfits she owned! All over this guy’s walls, and– there! Her attention, her ire was stolen by the sight of a propped up figure in the corner of this guy's bed. A familiar curvy figure who looked over at Victoria, her gaze just as sensual pairing with another skimpy dress she owned.
Body pillows!
“Oh hell no.” The touch of the first spitfire she was ready to shoot died in her throat as she was pushed out to the real world; a pungent lingering scent of ozone and sugary vanilla wafts from the smoking screen. Falling through the warped reality, as an undignified heap on the carpet; her own thick hair almost drowning her and her dress water-logged, chilling her warm skin. Getting up, Victoria looked around, stumbling as her heels were finally back on her feet. “Ah!” She gasps, grabbing onto the chair,” Oh where have you been!” Even her phone has returned between her breasts.
“Heels, phone,...Jeanne!” A loud thud hits the bed behind her. There, between the remnants of a ruined body pillow, was her sword. Glowing, pristine, a wave of disdain emits from her oldest friend. “Oh you peach,” She tells it, laughing with relief flooding her heart,”You always knew what to do, you old lady, did you bring Breidablik with you?” Of course it had no mouth, but she felt the disapproval loud and clear. Even with its judgemental aura, Victoria was glad to see it. If she could summon her sword, then Breidablik should—-
She outreached her hand and pulled— nothing. Frowning, she tried again. Focusing, her power reaches out searching for the divine relic, she feels other things—magic and spirits but not the ones she bonded with— her soul searching for the thousands left in her care. Through this bond, flashes of scenery springing in her mind, classrooms, cloaked figures, glittering gems and darkness, wherever it was Breidablik could not return to her. “Where are you,” she murmurs to herself,” Breidablik, I need you more than ever right now, how can they find me without you?”
Right now she was stranded in some boys room, dripping wet in a see through dress that cling to every curve of her figure. Not a picture of the powerful summoner she came to be. She would have to find the relic if there was a chance to activate it, without her it would never light again.
“Ugh,” She grimaces, hiking up her dripping dress. It was clinging to her curves, revealing more than she wanted—a waste as Lif wasn't here to admire it. Snooping through drawers and doors, she found the unconscious flame head’s closet. She found the owner to be quite the fan. “Pumpkin Knight, Mika-Tsune—,” She raised a brow staring at the design,”--- Not my Queen, Miku.”
Oh Lei would have loved this, the thought of her old husband makes her giggle, setting aside the printed jacket. She rummaged through the walk-in closet searching for a passable disguise. Sifting through, she discovered a name, tagged on his elaborate costumes, as Shroud, Idia. ‘That must be his name’, Victoria thought sniffing,’Well Idia I hope you don't mind me borrowing your clothes, not after all I've been dragged through’. Picking out a robe that was dated a previous year, which she guessed seeing there was a lack of multiples of said tag, she held the black silky robes against her figure. Compared to her own white ornate Summoner robes, this one was its complete opposite but just as grand. The robe was made of silk, black, lined and decorated with golden baroque leaves along its sleeves, the inner lining was a deep rich purple, its fine craftsmanship. She could tell by precise seaming, her finger ran along the straight tight threads, no loose dodgy threading— perfect.
Expensive, she notes.
Stylish, something she would have picked out but right now she looks more like a run-away bride;sticking out like a sore thumb. Snatching up a long dark robe, she dressed herself, threw up the hood, and as she touched the door, Victoria paused. Looking over her shoulder, she gazed at the vibrant poster that taunted her from its frame. Contemplating, Victoria looks around, eyeing the unconscious Idia, then back at her poster. It was wrong to steal, but then again that's her up there. Was it so bad to reclaim her unauthorized images of herself?
Besides, Victoria glanced at Idia’s crumpled body, Not dead, slightly alive.
At this point two influencing voices spoke to Victoria. One utterly outstanding repute, who spoke with a sardonic comedic rise his actor could pull, said,”Well they say the only thing to do with all dead is to look through his pockets and search for loose change.”
And the other was Brenda Meeks:
"Well, we already committed murder, we might as well rob his ass,”
Both were right. Jeanee from her spot on the bed shakes in disagreement.The black frame held sturdy— until Victoria began prying it open with her nails. A benefit for being summoned herself– her nails never get ruined. “I'm not going to let this stay,” she said to herself,”Never gave anyone permission for this, not even the media back home! Oh, my sweet self, I'm taking you with me, you can be on my wall. Brighten up the place.”
Then a more mischievous smile curls the corners of her mouth,” If not my room,” her gaze strays away in thought,”... .then I know a certain prince would enjoy it.”
Or two.
It only took a bit of force for her to pry it open, pleased with it she rolls it up tying it off with a rubber band she took from his desk. From the ground, a whiney groan slips from the downed man,”Who are you?”
Startled, Victoria immediately kneels and covers his eyes.”You should sleep, it's all a dream,” She said, her voice soft enough to lull him back to the ground.
“A dream?”
“Yes,” Victoria insisted, even if she was currently robbing him,” It's all a dream, Ldia”
“Idia,” His lips twisted into a scowl, correcting her,” this is a terrible dream,” he found the energy to complain,”Who messes up their own name in a dream?”
“Are you sure about that?” Victoria said, innocently.
Idia balks,”Of course it's my name!”
“Is that who you really want to be?” She croons, her voice softens,” Not someone more different than old Idia? Someone more exciting? Stronger? Probably someone with a tan.”
For a moment, his lips flubbed. Sputtering, he said,” Am I having a crisis right now? In my own dream? More likely than you think!”
Victoria lit up! Finally a reference she knew! “That's a little too meta now, don't you think sugar?”
“What's the point anyway,” Idia said dejected, flaming hair wilting,”In a dream I can be anything, but it's not like it's going to change a thing, I can't even go to some dumb orientation event for Ortho. That's so embarrassing for him, having a brother like me who can't even do that for him.”
A testament to her own soft heart, Victoria spoke gently,” Oh baby, oh sweetie. I doubt Ortho would be angry at you, or be embarrassed. You tried at least to go, didn't you?” No one who spoke so distraught about failing someone they love, could not have tried at least once.
“Well duh! I have my robe ready—,” Victoria eyes shot down at the robe she wore,”— but you know what, it's Riddle's fault, coming here acting all uptown, like he knew I was going to fail! I was going, really I swear! He just…ugh ..he just got into my head,” Idia mumbles lowly,” I didn't even want to be a house warden, it's way too much work. I only did it for Ortho…”
“I failed Ortho–,”Idia groans, curling his legs up to his chest,”–and I failed Victoria. She's so confident in everything, she doesn't even have to hesitate about going into a big room of people. So much for that confidence boost, they wouldn't be impressed by me.”
“You wanted to get confidence from her?” Sure, she was a source of confidence for many back in Askr, but she didn't know this guy.
“W-What kind of question is that!,”Idia bristles, taking offence to her question,” H-Have you heard how supportive she is? Taking charge of any situation she’s in, being so calm and cool! Practically heaven sent for a reclusive like me, bet if she was here she could have done the whole thing instead. Believe it!”
Oh God, I'm his Naruto, she realized, feeling oddly honored.
While time was of the essence to get out, there was someone here who needed her. Victoria shifted, sitting next to the depressed fan. “Riddle, huh. Okay let's get this straight right now— he's wrong. Guys like that feel superior if you prove him right with his bias about you. Are you really going to let him lord it over you? No!,” Her voice raises with fierce passion,”He's going to be very wrong right now! Cause you will be going to that orientation.” She decided,” Not because of him, but for Ortho and me!”
“You?” Idia said incredulously.
“Yes me,” she retorts,” You can't disappoint both a brother and woman you know.”
Beneath her hand, she felt his lashes flutter. “.... Victoria?” Idia said slowly,” Huh, your voice sounds more….”
“Let's stop right there,” she interrupted him, preening with pride,” I know, I sound good don't I?” she flicks her hair back with pizzaz, hair sparkling even if he couldn't appreciate it.
“Only you can say that so cocky and make it sound good. This dream is starting to feel too real,” Idia said, trying to get up,” Hey–”
Quickly Victoria said,”Oh but Idia! I am just a dream. A really pretty beautiful dream that you wanted, I may be confident but,” she simpers so sweetly, that a flare of red covers Idia's face, and slowly she whispers,”I'll feel so shy if you look at me. I'm such a mess you know, I didn't even get time to powder myself.”
Never mind she's all soggy wet in a see through dress.
“But I can't even see you,” Idia retorts, suspicious.
“But you can!” She lies,” Just blink Idia! On the count of three, open your eyes!”
“This feels like a trick, but fine I'll do it.” She counted down with him; adjusting herself to be in his line of sight. He might not be as forgiving seeing she wrecked his room. The second three said, she moved her hands back just in time. Idia blinks hard, sitting up. Shaking his head, he focused on where he was, and turned his head to see Victoria next to him dressed in his robes. His eyes widened, mouth flapping open.
“Well, ain't that a confidence booster?” She teases.
“I am dreaming!” Idia shouts excitedly, his grin large showing off those pointed sharp teeth. Somehow she missed that. As if forgetting his woe, he leans forward aweing,” I never dreamed you like this— ooo so life like! It's almost like you're real!” but the more he stares, he begins to squint, frowning,”But you're really shiny, like a SSR card. M-Man, even my dream is trying to remind me I missed your ultra rare card!”
SSR? Not a five star? That would have to wait, as much as she wanted to ask how good her stats were, Victoria needed to speed this up. “You dream of me that often?” She teases,” Hope you're enjoying it then, I'm much prettier than a regular old card.”
“Too good of a dream,” Idia agrees easily, but then his gaze narrows as he takes her in. His face falls, mood plummeting,"Really? What's with the robe, even my dream is telling me to go to the ceremony?”
‘Oh no, he's starting to suspect again,’ Victoria realized, ‘Time for some fan service.’
“It's a test,” she tells him, her hands gliding over the silk lining of her robes. Her voice softens to a raspy husky coo,”You're going to take the first step here Idia. You want to prove you can go to the ceremony? Then take this off of me.” Taking his pale hand, she placed it over her clavicle, his palm resting over the soft plush swell of her breasts.
His hair shot up to the sky, a brilliant pillar of rosy pink. Victoria fell back watching it cover the ceiling, harmless before it shot back to the red faced Idia.
“What!” He whimpers, his eyes shot so wide she could barely see the iris. Flailing like his self esteem, he fumbles to get up,”Hold on! This is getting R rated too quick! It's so soft!” Out of nerves or sheer chance, his hand squeezes over her chest.
“Ah! You're so rough!” Victoria turns her head, hiding her grin,” IDIA! Baby, please, don't squeeze me so hard!”
Idia could only make a series of unintelligible noises, his face so red she was almost afraid he was going to faint again. Instead, Idia let out a silent scream.
“Skip!” He shrieks, covering his face,”Skip the cutscenes, I'm not ready yet!”
“Don't be so shy,” She hums, leaning over him as she brushes back a lock of fire from his face,”I'll take good care of you.” Her soft murmurs do something funny to Idia's loins, even if it's a dream Victoria practically radiated sensuality. So strong was his dream, Idia could almost smell the powder perfume her character wears in the game. A jolt of heat rushes down his body when she rests her hand over his thigh.
Heat! That's real heat!, Idia panics, Boobs big and soft!
“Can't you do the ceremony for me?” Idia diverts, his thighs shut close as he feels the press of her large chest against him. He adds frantically,” You can do that right! No one can resist your charm! Your charisma stats are the best in the game!”
“While I agree with you,” Victoria sets her gaze on him,” This is something you have to do, I can't step into your shoes and lead the game, this isn't my raid. I'm Victoria, not Idia Shroud House Warden of…well never mind the name, Ortho's worth the attempt right?”
“Of course he is, it's just,” he mumbles something under his breath, Victoria couldn't make it out. Must have been another bad hit against himself, she guessed. His anxiety was through the roof, that he didn't even notice the mess his room was in. Crossing her arms under her chest, Victoria sits back on her haunches,”Well, what if I carry you there?”
“Wha?”
“You say that a lot,” She notes,” What if I take you there?”
“You can't take me there, dreams not going suddenly drop me like some kind of loot box,” Idia argues,” It's not like I'll wake up from this and be right out the Hall of Mirrors. Be real.”
“You couldn't handle me even if I was real,” She stood up, and grabbed the extra robe off his bed, tossing it over his head. “Put this on, I'm getting you there one way or another.”
“Huh!” Idia shrinks,” Wait! I can't do this alone!” If this was a figment of his own dreams, the sheer fear of disappointing Ortho and his bias was more than enough to pull on his robes. “Do I look weird?” He asks her, his insecurities creeping right back in.
Not on her watch.
“You look handsome,” With a quick fix of his robe, she nods in approval,”I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Victoria promised him,” Don't worry Idia by the time you wake up, you'll be right out there at those doors.”
“Eh?! B-But, I'm awake right now!” Victoria raised her hand up, making Idia crawl backwards,”Wait! That's your judo chop, you're gonna judo chop me!”
“It's for your own good!” She tells him,” Don't worry baby, I'll be gentle!”
“Ack!” With a swift chop to his neck, Idia fell to the ground in a heap of silk.
Tucking the rolled poster under her arm, she squats down next to Idia, gingerly lifts his head, locking her arms under his knees and lifts him up and over her shoulder. She only stumbles for second, catching her balance with Idia as to not drop him. She's already robbing him, no need to add more injury to insult to a fan.
Curling her hand towards the bed, Jeanne returns to her hand with little resistance. Good girl, Victoria smiles.
With that, she escapes.
Only to rear back covering her eyes as the bright light of the hall blinded her. Outside the bedroom it was all bright lighting, a big difference from the dark bedroom and void she had been trapped in— walls with triangular patterns in muted shades of blues bordering purple, grid metal frames along the walls, even a polished tile floor that sparkled. When she has looked up on the high ceilings, she finds triangular trails pointing down different halls that show the path to freedom.
With its polished marble columns, reflecting the old Grecian aesthetics fused with a futuristic sleekness, it almost felt oddly sterile.
“The electricity bills must be insane,” Victoria said to Idia, taking a moment to adjust her vision. She’s gotten used to torch lighting for the past decade, even with her EVE cellphone, the screenings weren't as painfully bright as the hallway she stood in. Rubbing her eyes, Victoria began making her way out of here. Wherever here is.
She passed rooms and stairs but not one soul has occupied any hall she passed. It's as if everyone had stayed in their rooms and refused to come out. It felt rather isolating. As if Idia and her were the only living beings in the whole world. Victoria could practically hear Idia breathe from how quiet it was. Compared to the Heroes Barracks, which was almost overwhelming with its numbers of heroes, this dorm was almost absent from life.
Had it not been the monitors covering the hallways, it would have been the case. Covering most of the walls, holographics screens showing data of the weathers and reports of events happening around Sage’s Island. Not a name she was familiar with back at the castle, where maps of all realms were kept in the archives of the Royal Library. Regardless, she could only spare a brief moment to wonder over this school she landed in. Night Raven College. A college that bleed out millions from the way the dorm was decorated; one that can pay off all the damage their horses caused the Order.
She can practically hear the gold coins singing in Anna's hands.
“Okay where is the exit,” she murmurs to herself. Adjusting Idia again–he was almost as tall as her— Victoria passed a large cafeteria, then the common room, and followed the signs pointing towards the front entrance. If there was a moment of chance, she would have taken photos to show Sharena and the others back home, but her memories would have to do. ‘Close now!’
Just as the doors came into focus, did the glass door part let through a somber fog to settle over. From the dark rolling clouds that spilled over the shining tiles, did the first body emerge followed by another and another. Students dressed in smart suits and thick geometric patterned jackets came in carrying their bags, papers and others with spare bags they refused to hand over to their school. Some paused when they saw the cloaked figures but to Victoria's delight most looked away as if they simply were not to bother with her shenanigans.
“Sorry, make way,” She said, pushing through the crowd,” Have a house warden to take out!”
“Eh? House warden?” She heard someone questioned, she marched through until she felt the cool damp air sweep over her,”Hey! Newbie! Where’re you taking our House warden too? H-Hey don't ignore me!”
“Did we get a vice warden?”
“I thought that was supposed to be Ortho?”
“-I don't think I ever seen Otho with toes before-”
“Can't stay! It's already too late!” She shouts, keeping her hood down. In spite of the hood covering her eyes, she could navigate down the dark winding staircase, the click of her heels bouncing off the cave walls. The scene before her was breathtaking. The Grecian decor of the inner dorm was similar in aesthetics as it was outside but that is all the scenery had shared. Compared to the bright shining modern decor, the landscape was a haunting memory of the underworld. Holding the weight of the Hellenic temples, where the skeletons of the dead their backs burdened with upholding the comfort of the students that reside within their walls. Their eyes were great pyres of blue fire that gaze down at her with judgement as she fled with Idia on her back.
The House warden was as dead to the world with only an incoherent mumble muttered once in a while. Whatever money this school had, the maintenance of it had to be phenomenal. Towards the end of the winding staircase, was a small dock surrounded on all sides by a dark murky lake, its dark surface peeking through from the clouds of fog that rolled over its surface.
True to its gloomy weather there was no sun in sight, instead of a peaceful blue sky, it was grey stone ceilings with stalactites hanging over them. So gloomy was the weather, a spiraling circle of clouds could be found drifting listlessly over the pointed skeletal fingers that came from the lake.
“What a cheery place,” She mused, she shifts Idia to her side to give her shoulder some relief,” Hel would have loved this place. Now where too ....”
Instead of finding a boat to sail away, what stood before her was a polished mirror. Looking around, she spotted no one else, no lingering students that accompanied the ones from earlier, just her, Idia and a eerie mirror. If there is no boat here than the mirror should be, She gazed at the dark glass and it gazed back at her. Through all her travels in her own world, the supernatural and old traditions had centered itself with passages of the unknown through mirrors and reflections. It was believed one could find a new world a different reality once slipped through. A portal to the realm of the future and past. Victoria knew it. She crossed over before.
A lost soul could be caught, trapped in the infinite realms of living, the present and the ever after.
There was no other way out than this singular mirror. All around was nothing but darkness and the rolling dark fires that lit the way.
“If this kills me,” She whispers to Idia,” You better make sure to get me all the flowers I want. I demand lilies, angelicas and asters. You heard all of that Idia?”
Idia Shroud could only groan.
Victoria stood tall and stepped into the looking glass.
our sweaty ice prince
feh heroes comic with @novembernocturneart's summoner 🫶 for artscuffle
Some icons from the summer banner this year! ^^ Like/reblog if used!
I've seen the new silhouette 👀...
I feel old now 😭 but at least it's happening.
This is an old edit I made of S!Hrid and Fjorm. Back these days, I'm not sure Summer Fjorm was a thing.







