Noelle: It's Christmas and I have to spend it in the company of the world's nastiest rat. Yay me.
Solid: Hey, that's just mean!
Noelle: Considering that you've spent the last sixteen years of my life humiliating and degrading me, surely I deserve a chance to insult you at least once...?
Nozel: Don't argue with your sister.
Solid: You're just saying that because she looks like our mother.
Nozel: No, I'm saying that because Fuegoleon threatened me into doing it, and by the way, this doesn't leave the room, understood?
Solid and Noelle: What did he threaten you with?
Nebra: He said he won't hug him ever again if Nozel hurts Noelle's feelings. If you ask me, it's pathetic.
Nozel: As your older brother and someone who knows how to appreciate a good embrace, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, Nebra. How the hell did you managed to get through a locked door, anyway?
Nebra: Magic. That, and you didn't lock it properly, /brother/ dearest.
Solid: How come you never hugged me?
Nozel: Since Fuegoleon never threatened me into not insulting you, I'll be frank with you: you are the absolute worst hugger in the history of hugs. Last time I embraced you, I ended up with a stuck up brat clinging to me for an entire hour - which is an hour more than I would like to spend with you.
Nebra: You barely ever hugged me either.
Nozel: With good reason. I'd be better off hugging an icicle than someone as cold as you.
Nebra: As if you can talk.
Noelle: But why did you never hug me...?
Nozel: My embrace policy includes "no tsunderes".
Nebra: Aaaand that is the only reason why he doesn't just hug himself when he needs a self-esteem boost.
Nozel: Might I remind you that I am still the eldest of the four of us?
Nebra: Might I remind you that I respect absolutely nobody and thus technically treat everyone perfectly equally regardless of gender, age, race, magic or class?
Nozel: That is with utmost callousness and zero tact?
Solid: Negative tact, actually, and infinite callousness.
Nebra: Zip it, braid face, or I'll tell father about your touchy-feely relationship with your cousin's cousin.
Nozel: We have a rivalry!
Nebra: Rivalry your touchy-feely ass.
Nozel: We hugged twice, and there was nothing more to it. They were just hugs.
Nebra: Right... that's not what Fuegoleon said...
Nozel: He... said he-? *blushes*
Nebra: Hah! So you are the twink that sleeps around with his cousin's cousin!
Nozel: I did nothing of the sorts! Besides that overly serious, self-righteous, incomparably a- annoying - idiot doesn't interest me in the least.
Nebra: Oh don't worry about it, most royals are inbreds anyway... What's the harm in breeding it in just a little more...? Except for the untainted line of Silva of course, but that goes without saying...
Noelle: *sigh* Another fun Christmas in the Silva household. I should have stayed with the Black Bulls. With Vanessa, and Charmy and Asta... Asta... Hhh... That lovable dork - wait, what the hell am I thinking?!
Narrator: That night Nozel had a fitful sleep, having been refused by Fuegoleon after Noelle ratted him out for calling her a "tsundere", Nebra wound up inexplicably covered in glitter, threatening to curse it into next Tuesday if it didn't leave her "flawlessly beautiful" body, Solid hid under the Christmas tree hugging a teddy in an attempt to sleep through the nagging of his guilty conscience and Noelle stuffed herself with ice-cream to ignore the voices in her head telling her to murder her siblings. Sanity had made itself scarce in the Silva household, but the house remained silent and nothing dared stir, not even a mouse. Of course, Santa Claus never did come, as Nozel's braid warded his reindeer off, like dream catchers do nightmares - so, a rare achievement, really, that should never have happened if stress and self-pity hadn't horribly deformed the once... decent... braid - and thus the next morning they woke up to find nothing but expensive wrapping paper and dull figurines, stiflingly formal clothes and a haunting note that said: "it's not gingers that don't have a soul. It's silvers." To this very day, Solid feels terrified of death, fully believing himself to be soulless and searching for a replacement soul. Doesn't help that Nebra eggs him on, fueling that belief and Nozel can't be arsed to tell him otherwise. "Even if I had a way of multiplying people's brain cells, you cannot multiply zero with anything and get a higher number than precisely zero. An idiot will remain and idiot, no matter how much logic you present him with." Noelle walked right out the house that day and refused to return ever again.
dededos
jbbartram-illu
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
areudirty
vaporwave
