Drago

The first thing you noticed as you groggily opened your eyes was the cold; not that it was entirely surprising to you, of course.

You were used to the perpetual icy winds of Sneznhaya. You grew up here after all.

The thing that did bother you though, was why it had invaded the usual warmth of your bedroom.

Sitting up in bed, you blinked what sleep you could out of your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dark room before you.

That’s when you realised he wasn’t there.

The Regrator, Pantalone, Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers; or as you knew him: Feofan - your Husband.

Glaring at the empty space and ruffled sheets as though it had personally offended you, you swung your legs over the side of the large bed and let out a groan.

“Feo’…? If you’re working again I swear to the Tsaritsa I will drag you back to bed by that pretty hair of yours.”

You wasn’t normally this irritated by his absence. You were used to finding him awake at god awful hours, desk piled with paperwork. But he had just returned from Sumeru after several weeks away, and you just wanted to be close to him again.

Slipping on your dressing gown, you pull open the door to your bedroom and step out into the hallway.

All of the maids and servants were sleeping, and the guards were stationed far enough to guarantee your privacy, so you wasn’t too concerned with anyone seeing your disheveled state as you begrudgingly trudge the corridors to his office.

This was the first place you checked whenever you wanted to find him.

Knocking on the door out of habit, you push it open and take a peak inside.

Of course, there he was.

This was different to the familiar scene you were expecting, though.

The fireplace was unlit, and the lights around the room were off, leaving the moonlight to be the only thing allowing you to make out your husbands figure as he sat at his desk.

“Feo’? Everything alright?”

Your voice had seemed to pull him out of his thoughts as his head snaps up to look at you.

“Ah… my dear, what are you doing up at this hour?”

As if he didn’t know.

“I woke up, and you wasn’t there. You promised me you’d be taking some time off when you returned…”

Shutting the door behind you, you make your way over to his desk, taking in the subtle smell of polish that the house keepers had used earlier that day.

“Yes, forgive me. I suppose sleep wishes to evade me despite my efforts.”

Holding out his hand, he gently grasps your own and places a small kiss against your knuckles.

Something seemed different about him. His smile looked tired as it struggled to make it up to his eyes, and his voice had a hoarseness to it that he rarely allowed anyone to hear, not even you.

“Hey — are you okay? You seem… off?”

He pauses for a second. Eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, and you can practically see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes.

“Mm… yes, I’m alright, My Love. Just a little worn down I suppose — nothing to concern yourself with.”

For someone whose entire position was based upon his abilities to charm and deceive his way in and out of situations, he was a surprisingly awful liar when it came to his emotions.

He was only human, after all.

“Hm.”

Not wanting to push him, you move to stand behind his chair and wrap your arms around his neck. Chin resting on his shoulder as you take in the contents scattered across his desk.

It was relatively organised as usual. Pens and stamps placed neatly in their designated places, paperwork that had yet to be looked through stacked in a tray next to ones that were ready to be filed away. That’s when it caught your eyes.

A small glass vial, filled with a luminous blue liquid.

That’s when you pieced it together.

You wasn’t personally that close with the Second. Sure you had met him a handful of times and endured his rather bold approach and views on his work — but Feofan was a far different case.

They were close. Two people who shared past experiences and present ideals for the same cause.

You knew of his past. How Dottore had helped him after he had been shot long before he gained his ranking as Harbinger. How he had, albeit begrudgingly, helped maintain his health, including performing a major transplant.

The blue vial contained an elixir. The Doctors life work that was now the reason your husband was here hundreds of years after his birth, despite still being human.

And now, the cunning and infamous Regrator was left mourning the loss of his friend.

Letting a soft sigh escape your lips and taking in the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to his clothes, you wrap your arms around little tighter around him, hoping it could bring at least a little comfort.

“You’ve been smoking again.”

“Vices are vices, My Love.”

A small silence falls over the two of you as you try and figure out the best way to comfort a man whose walls were notoriously impenetrable.

“You can talk about it, you know that, right? It’s just us here.”

Feofans shoulders tensed. His jawline setting into place as he bites back the urge to put up his defences.

“There is nothing to say about the matter. What’s done is done, and that’s all there is to it.” A pause, “Him and I both knew the outcome long before the contract was even signed.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to grieve. He was your friend.”

“Indeed he was.”

Letting his shoulders droop, he lets out a resigned sigh as he leans back into your embrace.

He knew you were just concerned, and he wasn’t about to let his own emotions get the better of him.

“He would think me such a fool.”

“For being upset?”

“Dottore-… ‘Zandik’ prided himself on being above emotional outbursts. He often chastised me for favouring his company to my colleagues.”

Ironic, you think. Considering the fact Dottore often made excuses to visit Feofan at least twice a week.

That’s when you noticed the subtle shaking in his breathing.

“Feo…?”

“Forgive me, I-… I was prepared, but I just…”

Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands.

There wasn’t any sound to hint at his distress, but the soft tremble of his shoulders told you all you needed to know.

“Hey- hey it’s okay, let it out.”

Shifting your position to kneel down beside his chair, you quickly embrace him. He didn’t resist.

“Can you believe he had the audacity to ask what I’d be doing once everything was over? To expect me to just continue without his persist pestering.”

Removing his glasses, you gently tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Who shall I talk with during the meetings with the Tsaritsa? Where do I place his funding? It was meant for him, not some boorish director from nowhere important.”

“Sweetheart…”

It hurt you to admit it, but you wasn’t exactly sure how you should comfort him. It was extremely rare to witness him cry, let alone break his walls down like this.

You choose to let him have a moment. The tremble in his shoulders gradually coming to a stop as he lifts his head from his hands, revealing his tear stained cheeks.

“Did he think I failed him…? In his last moments, did he resent me?”

Your heart sinks farther than what it already had.

Lifting your hand, you gently wipe the tears from his cheek with your thumb before cupping his face with your palm.

“No, no of course he didn’t. You said it yourself: he already knew the outcome of this. You didn’t fail him, Feo’… you helped him complete his goal despite everything.”

For a moment, he just stared at you.

You didn’t know if you said the wrong thing or not, but he had stoped crying at least.

After a few seconds, he reached his arms around you and held you in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this…”

“No, I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t let me see you like this. I love you. Whether it’s Pantalone, or Feofan. You never have to apologise for the version of you that you show me.”

“Thank you, My Love…”

The two of you stay like that for a moment. A Harbinger reduced to a man seeking comfort, and you gladly providing.

With a small sigh to compose himself, Feofan gently pulls away. Unfolding his glasses and placing them back on, he gives you a weak, yet genuine smile this time.

“If you wish to return to bed, you can. I’ve already kept you awake far longer than I should have.”

“Nonsense.” Quickly waving your hand in protest against the idea, you stand back up and place a kiss on top of his head. Black waves tickling your nose as you inhale the soft scent of his shampoo.

“If you think you can send me away after being gone for so long, then you’ve clearly forgotten who you married.”

He chuckles. Of course you wouldn’t give in like that.

“You stay here and I’ll go fetch some tea, alright?”

With a nod of his head and ‘hm’, you give him one more kiss on his head, before hurrying your way out of the office.

Door clicking shut behind you, Feofan leans back in his chair and stares at the vial.

Picking it up in his hand, he gives it a gentle swirl. Purple eyes watching it splash about inside the glass.

“Thank you for everything, Zandik.”

With that, he opens up his drawer and carefully places it on top of some handkerchiefs, allowing it to illuminate the other contents with a soft, blue glow, before closing the drawer and locking it.

“You were truly something special.”

─────────────────────────

“Touya! Touya, I missed you so much! Did you know I’d be here? Are these your friends? I think I’ve just seen Shoto! Hello, everyone, I’m Touya’s best friend.” You speak far too quickly, and Touya groans, making sparks flitter in his hand before he finally is able to look at you.

The fire goes out.

“Y/N?”

You nod excitedly. “Touya!”

“Touya?” the hand man repeats in disbelief. “Who the fuck is - holy shit, so that’s your real name, Dabi?” You wrinkle your nose in confusion, and ignore Touya trying to pry you off his back. Whatever. He used to do it to you growing up.

“What’s a Dobby?”

“Dabi,” Touya hisses. “My name is Dabi.”

“Then why’d she call you Touya?” a blonde girl asks. Suddenly, she gasps and claps her hands. “Is she your girlfriend?”

The man with the hands - who looks strangely like a villain you saw on the news - snickers and takes a picture of you casually sitting on Touya like he’s your throne.

“She’s absolutely his girlfriend, Toga,” he confirms. “Look at the way he’s letting her do this. Now I have blackmail. I like you, random girl.”

Finally, Touya manages to push you off, though it’s gentle. You smile expectantly at him. You don’t know why he looks weird or why he’s hanging out with villains, but you’re sure he has a reason. Likely infiltration, as he’s got to be a hero. Maybe Dabi is his hero name?

“Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you even recognise me?” Why would he question that? Duh, you’d be able to tell it was him. He’s your oldest friend. You shrug.

“I mean, how could I not? Just cause you look and sound a little different, doesn’t mean I’m not gonna recognise you. You’re Touya.” You boop his nose and the hand villain - is it Shigaraki? - applauds you and takes a picture.

“Thank you for the blackmail. I won’t even Decay you.” Oh, so definitely a villain.

You probably should’ve been scared, but whatever. Touya would protect you. He always used to whenever you were scared of a spider or the dark or the coat hung up that looked suspiciously evil.

Touya damn near chokes as you snuggle into his back.

“I missed you!” you chirp. Shigaraki is grinning smugly to the point you think he might ascend. The blonde girl is also giggling, and the gecko mutant next to her is fighting back a smirk.

“So, Touya then?” Shigaraki asks. “Wanna tell us why you didn’t think that was important?”

Touya curses and you gasp and smack him. Rei always said to not swear, and you spent so much time at her house that every lesson she gave you was firmly instilled in your head.

“Fine,” Touya groans, standing up. He looks at you, still clinging to him. The ghost of a smile passes along his face, and you get the feeling that while he might be acting grumpy, he’s actually happy that someone recognised him. “I take it you’re not going to get off me?”

He laughs when you shake your head.

“Got it, weirdo. Guess you’re coming back to the bar.” You jump up and piggyback on him. The gecko mutant finally laughs to himself at the sight. Okay, maybe it is embarrassingly childish because it’s been so long, but you and Touya always used to be like this, and you never got closure from his friendship while away.

“Oh, and Y/N?” You look up at him expectantly. “When you go see the others later, don’t mention that you saw me. In fact, it’ll be better if you didn’t see them at all.” Your face falls. Fuyumi and Natsuo were your friends too. You remember teaching Shoto how to play patty cake and hopscotch, and how to steal cookies from the kitchen without being caught. Heck, you remember being the one to introduce him and Touya to cold soba.

“Why not?” you question. Touya hums and ruffles your hair. In that moment, it’s like nothing’s changed. You’re still enamoured with him, and he eats it up like a starved man.

“Just because. You owe me a ‘no question’s asked’, so I’m calling that in.” It’s annoyingly true. He’d earned it from you after you’d asked him to come over at 2am to film an adaptation of Sailor Moon with your toys - except the furbies were scaring you.

You pout and then sigh. You adore his siblings, but it doesn’t compare to how much you love Touya.

“Alright, alright.”

As soon as he hears your agreement, Touya hoists you up so you get a better grip around his shoulders.

“Well then, Y/N. Welcome to the League. Worst bunch of assholes you’ll ever meet.” With that, a purple portal appears in front you. The other three step through, but Touya waits a heartbeat after they’ve gone.

​"I do lock them. You just happen to have a weird habit of lurking," you replied, rolling your eyes. You stepped aside to let him in, but he stayed put, tapping his fingers against his thighs. "So, how did the League stuff go anyway?"

​Dabi let out a dry huff, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "It was alright." He glanced at you, his eyes scanning your face, shifting the subject before he could get too specific about the blood on his boots. "What about you? Did you actually do something productive today, or just watching that boring TV show?"

"Hey, I actually cleaned the kitchen," you defended yourself, pointing a finger at him. "And I did my laundry. Unlike some people, I don't just run around setting things on fire for a living."

​"Sounds exhausting," he drawled, his voice dropping into that familiar, mocking tone. But then he glanced down at his boots, then back at the dark staircase. His smirk faded into something a bit more distant. "Anyway, I shouldn't have come here looking like this. Go back to your boring TV show since I'm ruining your night."

​He turned and started walking down the stairs, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

​As you watched his back move away from you, a sudden wave of guilt hit you. His voice had sounded normal, but the way his shoulders slumped told a different story. You realized your joke about him being scary might have actually hurt his feelings. 

​"Touya, wait!" you called out, stepping out into the cool hallway.

He stopped on the steps but didn't turn around right away. He kept his back to you, his voice sounding a little forced when he finally spoke. "What? Forgot to ask for takeout? I can hit the convenience store on the corner if you're hungry."

​Before you could answer, he let out a dry, humorless sigh. "Better get your requests in now, anyway. The League is getting way too famous. Pretty soon, I won't even be able to grab you a soda without some annoying hero trying to pick a fight with me."

​You walked down the hallway and down the first few steps until you were standing right behind him. Without giving him a chance to say another sarcastic remark, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist from behind, not caring about the ash or the lingering heat radiating off his leather coat.

​Dabi went completely rigid.

​His breath hitched loudly in his throat. He was still radiating a feverish, dangerous heat from his quirk, but you didn't care. You just squeezed him tighter. For a long, quiet moment, the feared villain of the League of Villains was completely paralyzed by a simple hug.

​​"I don't want anything from the store," you whispered against his jacket. "I just want you to stay."

Slowly, the tension left his shoulders. His hands came out of his pockets, and he covered your hands with his own, his grip tight and almost desperate. He let out a long, shaky exhale, the last of the smoke finally clearing from his skin as he leaned back into you. 

"...You're gonna get ash all over your floor," he grumbled.

​"I have a vacuum," you said. "Get inside."

Vil didn’t look up from his tea. “Do I even want to know?”

You, with the biggest grin on your face, flopped into the chair across from him like it was a casual meeting and not the sanctum of beauty and refinement. “Okay, so. Hear me out.”

“No.”

Ignoring him completely, you launched into your story. “So I was in the botanical gardens, right? And I saw this big, fancy plant, and I thought, ‘What if I just… take it?’ You know, for science or something.”

Vil lowered his tea slowly, eyeing you like you’d just declared you were going to break into a highly secured vault for fun. “You what?”

“I took it! It’s in my bag!” You looked so proud of yourself as you patted your bag. “I was thinking it’d look great in your room.”

Vil blinked at you, mouth slightly open, as his brain struggled to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. “You stole a plant? From the botanical gardens? For me?”

“Yup! Because you like pretty things, right?”

A strangled sound came from Rook, who had been quietly observing the conversation. Vil shot him a glare to silence him before returning his attention to you. “Let me get this straight,” Vil said slowly, carefully, as though speaking too quickly would cause his head to explode. “You, with absolutely no regard for rules or consequences, took a rare and likely highly poisonous plant, stuffed it into your bag, and brought it to me?”

You blinked innocently. “It’s poisonous? Huh. Well, that explains the rash.”

Vil’s hands went to his temples as he let out a long, pained sigh. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”

“Pfft, nah. I just get bored.”

There it was. The sentence that encapsulated everything about you—no self-preservation, questionable morals, and an insatiable hunger for something, anything, to entertain you.

Vil leaned back in his chair, staring at you as though trying to comprehend how someone like you even existed. “Do you realize how dangerous that is? How reckless? How utterly insane?”

You shrugged. “Danger is subjective, really. And anyway, you’ve faced worse in your overblot, right? At least I didn’t curse anyone.”

“That’s not the point!” Vil snapped, standing abruptly and fixing you with a glare so intense it could wilt your newly acquired plant. “You’re acting like an absolute menace!”

“And yet,” you said, leaning forward with a grin that could only be described as unhinged, “you still keep letting me hang around.”

Vil opened his mouth to retort but stopped. He couldn’t deny it. No matter how infuriating you were, no matter how many ridiculous situations you threw yourself into, he never really tried to distance himself. Sure, he scolded you, lectured you about proper behavior and responsibility, but at the end of the day, you were still there, waltzing into his life like you owned it.

“And,” you added, leaning even closer, “you can’t deny that you like it. Admit it. You’d be bored without me.”

Vil scoffed, turning his nose up. “As if. I have plenty of things to occupy my time.”

You tilted your head, that same manic gleam in your eye. “Oh really? Then why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”

Vil’s eye twitched. You had him there. He could list a dozen reasons why you were the worst—your lack of decorum, your disregard for rules, your baffling ability to be where you weren’t supposed to be—but at the same time, you were… fun. Infuriating, yes, but you always kept him on his toes. You were different from the people who usually fawned over him, who tried to impress him. You didn’t care about any of that. You just did whatever you wanted.

He took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll admit it. You’re… amusing, in a way.”

You grinned wider. “See? I knew you liked me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Vil said quickly, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re a menace to society and a walking disaster waiting to happen. But…” His voice dropped to a soft murmur, “you’re not entirely unbearable.”

“Wow, that’s practically a love confession coming from you,” you teased, still beaming like you’d won some sort of grand prize.

Vil turned away to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Don’t get any ideas. I simply tolerate your existence.”

“Tolerate it all you want,” you said with a wink. “But I’m still going to hang around and cause chaos.”

Vil rubbed his temples again, as though trying to stave off the headache you were undoubtedly giving him. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Liar,” you sing-songed.

He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it. “One day, you’re going to get yourself killed. Or worse—ruin my skincare routine.”

You laughed, pulling the now-wilting plant out of your bag. “Wanna help me plant this in the dorm garden?”

Vil stared at you in disbelief. “No. Absolutely not.”

“You say that now, but I’ll grow on you. Just like this plant.”

“I am going to bury you and that plant together.”

You winked. “As long as I’m with you, Vil.”

Vil groaned, but he didn’t kick you out, didn’t storm off in disgust. And somehow, that was all the confirmation you needed.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia, prince of Briar Valley, feared and revered by many, could handle just about anything. He’d faced fierce enemies, commanded respect with just a glance, and maintained an air of elegance befitting his royal status.

And then there was you.

You, with your complete and utter lack of self-preservation. You, who seemed to treat life like an ongoing game of “how can I make the Grim Reaper quit?” You, who treated Malleus Draconia like just another guy in your chaotic orbit.

“Tsunotarou!” You barreled toward him one evening, skidding to a halt at the last second, as if barely remembering that you shouldn’t throw yourself headfirst into the chest of a centuries-old fae prince. “You’ll never guess what I did!”

Malleus blinked, tilting his head in curiosity. “What have you done this time, Child of Man?”

You grinned like a cat who’d eaten the canary. “I may or may not have… accidentally started a small fire in the potionology lab.”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly, though he remained composed. “A fire? Are you unharmed?”

“Oh yeah, I’m totally fine! But Crewel’s coat definitely wasn’t. That thing went up in flames like it was soaked in gasoline.” You waved your hand dismissively, like setting your teacher’s coat on fire was a normal Monday activity.

Malleus stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he let out a soft chuckle. “You are truly fearless, aren’t you?”

“I like to think of it as ‘enthusiastically living life without regrets,’” you replied, crossing your arms proudly. “Besides, if something goes wrong, I have you to bail me out.”

“Do you intend to make a habit of relying on me to prevent your untimely demise?” Malleus asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You shrugged. “I mean, if the shoe fits. You’re like my own personal dragon-shaped safety net.”

Malleus blinked. “I am not a net, Child of Man.”

“No, no,” you waved off his literal interpretation. “You’re like the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card. Like, if I almost die doing something dumb, you’ll just bring me back, right?”

Malleus paused, tilting his head again, as if genuinely pondering your question. “I could… but do you not fear death?”

“Nah. It’s not that big of a deal.” You grinned, clearly thrilled by the look of confusion that passed over his normally composed face. “Besides, it’s boring to worry about things like that.”

Malleus stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if trying to comprehend how you could be so nonchalant about life-threatening situations. He was used to dealing with those who were cautious around him, who feared his power or treated him with excessive reverence. And then there was you—just casually asking him if he could resurrect you after you threw yourself into danger like it was a sport.

“What am I to do with you?” Malleus mused, more to himself than to you.

You perked up. “Take me on a super dangerous adventure?”

Malleus blinked. “I was thinking more along the lines of keeping you out of danger.”

“But that’s boring!” You leaned forward, poking his chest with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, big guy, don’t you ever just wanna go wild? Let loose? Maybe blow up a tower or two for funsies?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “Blow up a tower?”

“Yeah! Like a good ol’ fashioned castle demolition!” You threw your hands up in the air like you were some kind of crazed architect.

Malleus let out a soft sigh, but there was an undeniable hint of fondness in his gaze. “I believe we have different definitions of fun.”

“And that’s exactly why you need me,” you said with a grin. “You need some excitement in your life! Can’t just sit around being all broody and regal all the time.”

Malleus looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his emerald eyes. “You are… quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

You beamed. “That’s because I’m awesome.”

“That is certainly one word for it,” Malleus said, suppressing a smile.

“And you like that about me,” you teased, leaning even closer with zero respect for the concept of personal space. “Admit it. You enjoy the chaos I bring into your life.”

Malleus chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “It is… refreshing.”

“Ha! I knew it!” You jabbed a finger at him. “You love my reckless, devil-may-care attitude!”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it love…” Malleus started, but you were already on a roll.

“Face it, Tsunotarou! You’re absolutely smitten with my chaotic energy.”

Malleus watched you with that same fond amusement, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “You are certainly… something,” he said, his voice soft, yet filled with warmth.

“And don’t you forget it!” You twirled dramatically, like you’d just won some invisible competition. “Now, let’s go scare some people in the hallways. We’ll use your glowing eyes and spooky fae vibes to freak everyone out.”

Malleus sighed again but stood up, towering over you with a resigned yet playful expression. “If I agree to this madness, will you at least promise not to throw yourself into any more dangerous situations today?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. No promises, but I’ll try.”

“That is the best I can hope for, it seems,” Malleus murmured, shaking his head with an affectionate smile.

As you grabbed his hand and began to drag him toward your latest scheme, Malleus couldn’t help but think that, for all your recklessness and lack of self-preservation, you brought a kind of chaos into his life that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

And strangely enough, he didn’t mind it.

Tonight, you’re going to kidnap the young master.

It sounded less ridiculous in your head, but the village’s plight had pushed you this far. Unfair taxes, people going hungry, all thanks to the greed of the lord’s family holed up in their luxurious estate. Someone needed to stand up for the people. That someone just happened to be you.

You’d never kidnapped anyone before, but how hard could it be? Grab the rich guy, ask for a ransom—specifically, less ridiculous taxes—and stroll away like a hero. Easy.

The manor looms in front of you, all dark windows and dramatic architecture. It's almost too easy to slip past the guards. You start to wonder if they’re just really bad at their jobs or if this is some elaborate setup. Still, you can’t help but smirk. You’re so good at this, it’s almost criminal.

Well, it is criminal. But you know, details.

Inside, the place is eerily quiet. Every shadow seems to be watching you as you slink through the halls, making your way toward the young master’s room. You’ve heard the rumors—aloof, cold, basically allergic to feelings. Intimidating him into compliance? Piece of cake.

After a few minutes of creeping around like a ninja, you find a room with the door slightly ajar. A faint light flickers inside. Jackpot. You steady your breath, grip your very intimidating (okay, slightly makeshift) weapon, and push the door open.

Sitting at a desk, seemingly unfazed by your dramatic entrance, is the young master.

“Ah,” he says, turning slowly to look at you. There’s a glimmer of... curiosity? in his eyes. “A visitor. How... unexpected.”

You blink. This is not going to plan. Where’s the panic? The yelling for help? The appropriate reaction to being ambushed at night?

Determined to salvage the situation, you wave your weapon and try your best "intimidating kidnapper" voice. “You’re coming with me! I’m here to kidnap you, and if you want to see your precious manor again, you’ll lower the village taxes!”

There’s a beat of silence.

The young master raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidnapping me? How... amusing.”

Amusing? You falter. “This isn’t a joke,” you insist, shaking your weapon for emphasis. “I’m serious! Ransom, taxes, starving villagers—ringing any bells?”

Instead of, say, panicking or fleeing, the young master stands up from his chair, all calm and composed, like this is a perfectly normal Tuesday night activity. “Very well. I suppose I should humor you.”

You blink again, utterly at a loss. “Wait... you’re just agreeing to this?”

“Of course.” He tilts his head, giving you a strange, intrigued look. “I’ve never been kidnapped before. It sounds rather... interesting.”

And just like that, he strolls toward the door as if this is his idea. You scramble to follow, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

As you lead him through the estate, you’re still grappling with the bizarre reality of the situation. Here you are, attempting to kidnap someone, and the guy is practically rolling out a red carpet for you.

“You know,” you mutter, glancing over at him, “most people don’t just let themselves be kidnapped. It’s not really how this works.”

He turns to you with a serene smile that’s entirely too pleasant for a hostage. “Why should I resist? You don’t seem the type to harm me.”

You narrow your eyes. Is he flirting? Intentionally or not, this guy’s nerve is off the charts.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he says suddenly, voice smooth as silk.

“I’m not giving my name to my hostage,” you snap back. This is Kidnapping 101.

“Ah, of course.” He nods, clearly amused. “Then I’ll introduce myself instead. I am Malleus Draconia.”

Your stomach drops to the floor. Malleus Draconia. THE Malleus Draconia. The name practically vibrates with power and danger, and you suddenly realize you’ve made a colossal mistake. You haven’t kidnapped the young master of the manor—you’ve kidnapped the prince of the fae.

“Oh no,” you mutter, horror creeping into your voice. “Oh no, oh no, this is bad. This is really bad.”

Malleus watches you with mild amusement, an eyebrow raised. “Why the sudden distress?”

You whirl on him. “You’re Malleus Draconia! I— I wasn’t supposed to kidnap you! This is a mistake—like, a huge mistake. I’ll just let you go and we can pretend this never happened, okay?”

But instead of looking concerned, Malleus just smiles wider, a wicked little gleam in his eyes. “Let me go? But I’m having so much fun.”

You gape at him. “You... want to stay kidnapped?”

“Indeed.” He seems completely unbothered by the sheer absurdity of the situation. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve had such an engaging evening.”

Well. This is officially the weirdest night of your life.

The night only gets stranger when you run into his retainers.

“Young Master!” a voice bellows, and you look up to see a tall, green-haired fae charging toward you, fury in his eyes. “What is going on here?!”

Before you can even explain, Malleus casually steps in. “Ah, Sebek. Allow me to introduce my kidnapper.”

Sebek freezes mid-charge, eyes wide. “Y-Your... kidnapper?!”

Malleus nods with an unnervingly calm smile. “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Sebek’s brain seems to short-circuit, and he storms off, shouting something about telling Lilia and Silver. You groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is a disaster.”

Malleus, of course, chuckles softly beside you. “On the contrary. I think it’s rather amusing.”

Of course he does.

By the time Lilia and Silver arrive, you’ve already resigned yourself to your fate. At least they’ll make your execution quick, right?

But Lilia just grins mischievously, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well, well. This is certainly the most interesting kidnapping I’ve seen in centuries.”

Silver, on the other hand, just raises a brow. “He seems to be enjoying himself.”

Malleus smiles at you, as though being abducted by a random stranger is the highlight of his week. “Quite.”

You’re about to protest when Malleus turns to his retainers with a firm nod. “I’d like to speak to my kidnapper alone.”

Sebek looks like he’s going to explode, but Malleus’s sharp glance shuts him up. Lilia throws you a wink as they all leave, and just like that, you’re alone with the fae prince. Again.

Malleus steps closer, his calm mask slipping just a little. “You know, I’ve grown quite fond of this little adventure.”

You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”

He tilts his head, lips quirking into a smile. “I propose a deal. I’ll help your village with the taxes. In return, you’ll... continue kidnapping me.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait... you want me to keep kidnapping you?”

“Yes. It’s been rather fun.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “What do you say?”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is the weirdest deal I’ve ever made.”

Malleus grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Wonderful. Now, shall we shake on it?”

And so, your bizarre, extremely non-traditional kidnapping arrangement begins.

Every few days, it’s the same: you sneak into his manor (more like casually walk in, since he always leaves the window open for you now), and the two of you embark on whatever adventure catches your whimsy. Sometimes it’s sneaking into human markets where Malleus marvels at the mundane—like street food or ridiculous trinkets. Other times, you explore abandoned castles with winding, forgotten hallways that echo with untold stories.

It’s almost normal now, the way he expects you to “abduct” him with little more than a raised eyebrow and a soft chuckle as you half-heartedly demand his presence for another outing. The most feared prince of the fae is now, apparently, your willing partner in crime.

The first time you take him to a local fair, though, you realize just how out of his element he truly is. Malleus spends a good twenty minutes, completely entranced, watching a cotton candy machine.

“Is it... magic?” he asks, his (very pretty) eyes locked onto the swirling pink clouds as the vendor twirls the sugary fluff onto a stick.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound coming out far more amused than you intended. “Nope. Just sugar spun into fluff. You’ve really never seen this before?”

Malleus watches the process with a reverence usually reserved for ancient relics, finally accepting the cotton candy as if it’s some kind of delicate treasure. He takes a cautious bite, his expression lighting up like a child’s.

“Incredible,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “It dissolves on the tongue.”

You bite back another laugh at the sight of this powerful fae prince, someone who commands fear from almost everyone around him, completely taken by spun sugar. “Glad you like it.”

After that, it’s a night of him eagerly trying every strange, sticky fair food he can find, utterly fascinated by things as simple as corn dogs and funnel cake. You can't decide if it’s endearing or a little embarrassing, but either way, you’re having more fun than you’ve had in a long time.

As the weeks pass, the more you look forward to your little "kidnapping" escapades, and that in itself is a whole other problem. Malleus’s wide-eyed curiosity about the human world is... strangely adorable, and while he’s still every bit the regal fae prince, there’s something endearing about the way he asks you questions about everyday things with such genuine interest. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, his quiet intelligence making for great conversation—when he’s not completely sidetracked by things like human street food.

The more time you spend with him, the harder it becomes to ignore the truth creeping up on you. You’re starting to fall for him. It’s ridiculous, and yet... here you are.

Of course, not everything goes smoothly.

“Human!” Sebek shouts dramatically one afternoon as you and Malleus return from yet another outing. “How dare you abduct the Young Master again!”

You roll your eyes, half-expecting this by now. “Sebek, I’ve told you before. He wants me to kidnap him.”

Sebek bristles, sputtering indignantly, his green hair practically standing on end. “Lies! The Young Master would never allow—”

“Sebek,” Malleus interrupts, his tone calm, but with that unmistakable edge that immediately silences his retainer. “I went willingly. Again.”

Sebek’s jaw drops, looking like someone just told him the sky isn’t blue. “But... Young Master...”

Malleus gives him a slow, deliberate look, his lips curving into a faint, almost predatory smile. “You should try it sometime. You may find it... enlightening. Although,” he turns to you, his voice soft but with an unmistakable possessiveness, “you’ll have to find another human. This one is already mine.”

Your breath hitches as Malleus’s words hang in the air, and you can't help but feel your heart skip a beat. Sebek, meanwhile, looks utterly scandalized, his eyes wide as saucers. Lilia, who has been watching the whole thing with far too much amusement, claps Sebek on the back.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Lilia chuckles. “Let them have their fun.”

Sebek looks like he's about to explode, but instead storms off, muttering something about propriety, while Silver smirks quietly from the sidelines.

One night, after another "kidnapping," you find yourself sitting beside Malleus on a hill overlooking the village, the faint glow of the fair still visible in the distance. The stars hang bright overhead, and there’s a soft stillness between you as the cool air nips at your skin.

Malleus’s voice breaks the quiet, low and thoughtful. “You’ve given me more than I expected.”

You glance at him, curious. “What do you mean?”

He turns to you, his dark eyes holding a depth you hadn’t seen before. “Companionship. I hadn’t realized how much I longed for it until... until you.”

Your heart does something funny at his words, the raw sincerity of them tugging at something deep inside you. Without thinking, you reach out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, your fingertips grazing his skin. The air between you seems to still.

“I’ve grown... quite fond of you,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

You swallow, feeling your pulse quicken. “Malleus, I—”

But before you can find the words, Malleus leans in, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel the warmth of his hand gently cup your cheek. The world seems to fade away as you both hover there, caught between anticipation and something more.

“I do believe,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as his eyes darken with something you can’t quite name, “that I’m falling for you, my little kidnapper.”

Your heart stutters, and before you know it, you’re closing the space between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, everything else ceases to matter—no fair, no adventures, no strange arrangements. Just the two of you, finally giving in to the pull that’s been drawing you together for weeks.

When you pull back, breathless, Malleus smiles, and it’s the softest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Does this mean,” he says, his voice still low and teasing, “you’ll continue kidnapping me?”

You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep in your chest. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Malleus grins, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “No, I suppose not.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is my first time posting here so i have no idea what i'm doing and the formatting is probably off because i'm on mobile but i'll slowly figure it out.