Riddle: Why dose prefect seem so upset, all I said was hello and they were irritible
Ace: Do you not know? The greasy hair, the eyebags, the tanking grades.
Riddle: Greasy hair?
Carter: I fixed that with some dry shampoo
Ace: Do you seriously not know?
Riddle: Know What?
Carter: Ya bitch is goin through burnout or depression
Trey: Yea... it looks like it
Riddle: Then why are they angry and not sad or mopey
Carter: My guess Is that Ace forced then out of bed
Trey: Where are they now?
Ace: Deuce is forcing them to take a bath
Cater: I got em some clothes
Riddle: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY FORCE!?
Ace: Chill, I just swapped the lock around do Deucey boy is gonna lock them in the bathroom till they shower.....By the way Deuce and trey are in charge of emotional support
Trey: Not complaining. I'll totally do it but but why me?
Carter: LMAO he thinks the rest of us could do it
Trey:....Fair enough
Carter: Oh and Riddle your on their grades and shit
Carter: I don't know what you saw in him, Yuu. Do you really like him?
Yuu: You know… I like him like Ariana Grande….
Carter: What do you mean?
Yuu, looking away and singing softly: There's something you should know before you go……
Carter remembering the song: WOMAN CONTROL YOURSELF
“Alright, Prefect! Big day ahead!” Cater Diamond’s chipper voice rang out as he twirled on his heel to face you, his ever-present smile lighting up the area. His phone was already out, snapping a quick selfie with you mid-sigh. “Don’t worry, you look adorable—even with that pout. #CandidCutie!”
You groaned, waving the cracked flip phone in your hand for emphasis. “Remind me again why we’re doing this? I’ve survived just fine with this little guy, thank you very much.”
Cater’s eyes flicked to the phone, and he visibly winced. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure that thing predates me! And while I get the whole vintage aesthetic, don’t you think it’s time for an upgrade? How’re you supposed to keep up with Magicam trends if you’re stuck with… that?”
You gave him a deadpan stare. “I don’t exactly have the budget for a Magicam-worthy phone, Cater. Being the Prefect of Ramshackle doesn’t come with a paycheck, you know.”
“Which is exactly why I’m here!” he declared, tossing an arm over your shoulders and leaning in closer. You caught a faint whiff of his cologne—fresh and citrusy. “Consider me your tech-savvy fairy godmother. I’ll help you pick the perfect phone. My treat!”
You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at him in disbelief. “Wait—you’re buying me a phone? Cater, that’s way too much. I can’t let you—”
“Shh, shh, shh!” He pressed a finger to your lips, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I want to do this for you. You deserve something nice.” His voice softened at the end, and for a moment, you swore you saw a flicker of something earnest in his usually playful gaze.
Still, guilt gnawed at you. “But Cater, it’s not like I can pay you back…”
“Y/N,” he said, tilting his head with a lopsided grin. “Seeing you happy is all the payment I need.” He blinked, realizing how that sounded, and quickly turned away, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, I mean—what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help out, right?”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you let it slide.
Before long, the two of you arrived at the bustling electronics store. Cater practically dragged you inside, his enthusiasm contagious as he pointed out the latest models.
“This one’s got a great camera! Perfect for selfies with yours truly,” he said, striking a dramatic pose. “Ooh, and this one has cute case options! Imagine it with little sparkles—totally your vibe, don’t you think?”
You chuckled despite yourself, watching him dart from display to display like an excited puppy. It was clear he’d put a lot of thought into this—maybe more than he’d let on.
Finally, he stopped in front of a display and picked up a sleek phone in a soft pastel shade. “This one! Affordable, great specs, and it matches your aesthetic. Plus, it’s durable enough to survive life in Ramshackle.”
You hesitated, staring at the phone in his hands. “Cater… are you sure about this? It’s such a big gift, and—”
“Y/N.” His voice was firm, but there was a softness to it that made your breath hitch. “Let me do this for you, okay? You’re always taking care of everyone else. It’s about time someone took care of you.”
The sincerity in his eyes left you speechless. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay… but I’m not calling it a gift. Let’s call it a loan.”
“Deal,” he said, though the way his grin widened told you he had no intention of taking anything back.
As you walked out of the store with your new phone in hand, Cater casually slipped an arm around your shoulders again. “Alright, first order of business: a selfie! C’mon, Prefect, say cheese! #NewPhoneWhoDis!”
You laughed, leaning into his side as he snapped the picture. For a brief moment, the world felt a little brighter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it had less to do with the new phone and more to do with the boy holding it.
“Lilia, hand him over.” Lilia whipped his head towards Leona, eyes flashing.
“What?!” he snarled, teeth bared as his grip tightened on Sliver’s sleeve. Lilia was draped over his son’s weak form, ready to defend him from the enemy that surrounded them.
A series of events had landed Lilia, Leona, Carter, Grim, Yuu, and Silver in a dark gray wasteland with no food, water, or even sunlight. During these events, they met a tyrannical Overlord who instantly became taken with Silver’s beauty, demanding the teen as his. Silver—and, of course, Lilia—refused (loudly in Lilia’s case).
After their escape, they came across more dangers, one of these resulting in Silver becoming horribly injured, which eventually led to the severe illness the boy was now suffering from. Now, the vagabonds had caught up to them and demanded that—in exchange for their safety—they surrender his child.
And Leona agreed.
“We don’t have the strength or numbers to fight them,” the Savanaclaw House warden reasoned, tail flicking. “More than that…” His gaze dropped towards Silver and furrowed sympathetically.
“Silver is injured and sick. One of those would be bad enough? But both? In a place like this? It’s a death sentence.” The lion moved his gaze back to the surrounding enemies, who had their guns leveled at them, growling as they tried to approach.
He continued, “We have no way of helping Silver in our situation. We’ll be lucky if WE can survive out here. And if Silver isn’t treated soon, he’ll die,” he emphasized the last word to get his point across. Lilia pressed his lips as the logic sank in despite his stubbornness. Leona pressed on.
“These guys want him alive, and they have the means to treat him. So, if we want him to live, we have to hand him over for now. Otherwise…” He didn’t need to finish. Lilia knew it.
Day and night, Lilia sat at his son’s side, changing bandages—which were just torn clothing from everyone--trying to treat the wounds that became infected despite their efforts, watching what little color the boy had faded from his skin. He knew that without a doctor and medicine, Silver would die like Leona said.
‘But—’ Lilia’s brow pinched in pain.
Leona had no idea what he was asking Lilia. If they took him—if they took his son—then Lilia would never find him again. Lilia could never find anybody. That meant that he would never see Silver again and this moment would be the last memory he would have of him. And who knew what these villains wanted? They could be co-signing Silver to a fate worse than death.
Yet--
Lilia lifted his hand, cupping Silver’s face.
Silver could barely open his eyes to look at him. His beautiful features were flushed with fever, and under his aurora-stone eyes were dark bags from exhaustion. He parted his chapped lips. Despite not just Lilia’s but everyone’s best efforts, they weren't able to get him the water they needed, being trapped in this cursed wasteland.
“Fa…” Silver’s voice cracked and fell to an airless gasp. The teen was so weak he couldn’t even finish his sentence. His breathing was irregular, and the breaths he did take took effort.
Lilia gripped the boy tighter, hand shaking violently with the rest of his body as he fought back his anguish. He then dropped his head, hair covering his eyes.
He made his choice. And it broke his heart.
Lilia stroked his cheek one last time, touching Silver’s feverish forehead to his.
“I’m sorry, Silver,” he whispered through haggard breath.
Lilia had to physically throw himself from the other, tearing a piece of fabric from the already damaged sleeve as he was unable to open his grip.
He fell to his knees, ripping his stockings and tearing his knees. He choked up a sob as he clenched his eyes shut, his heart aching more than it had done in a long time. Footsteps approached, and Lilia dug his nails in the soil, grinding his teeth as he fought the instinct to attack, to stop them from taking his precious angel, his light in the dark.
They didn’t touch him—they had too much of a survival instinct to do that—but Lilia still flinched as they grabbed Silver, hauling the boy away from the fae. Lilia’s form quaked with many emotions, his mind and heart begging him to do something, to stop them, to not let Silver be taken away.
Even so, he kept his head down, weighed by shame and guilt.
His shoulders were hunched, teeth grinding till they hurt. How could he let it come to this? To the point that he could only save his son by surrendering him to an enemy that had already proved itself merciless?
‘Have I really fallen so low?’ The fact he was on the ground with his head bent as others took his son away answered it all.
As he heard the footsteps walk away a few loose tears fell from Lilia’s face, hitting the ground.
This was it. Lilia somehow always knew they would part one day. But to be separated like this...
“Dada!” A little boy with the softest, most loving gaze stared at Lilia from a memory long ago, an acorn bracelet in hand. “Dada, you will always stay healthy. Then, let’s always be together, okay?”
The sob he had been trying to hold back escaped his throat, and Lilia couldn’t stop himself from lifting his head. He did so just as the ship holding Silver lifted into the air. The craft hovered for a moment --just to taunt him with the temptation to jump on it and take back what was his--before blasting off at a speed Lilia’s eyes were unable to follow until they were gone.
Till Silver was gone.
Lilia’s entire being went numb. He froze like a statue, paralyzed with grief. The torn sleeve with the Diasomnia insignia was pressed to his chest, serving as the last thing he had of the other.
This was it. Silver was gone. His son, his moonlit angel, was gone.
He barely felt the hand tightly clasp his shoulder in what could have been comfort.
“We’ll find him, man,” his friend Carter promised, bitterness edged on his words, his face scrunched with remorse. “We’ll find him.”
Lilia wanted to believe that but couldn’t.
He just knew that--just like how he lost Reven--he lost Silver.
And like Reven, Lilia would never find his son again.
