𖥔REACH FOR THE STARS𖥔

ೃ⁀➷julien loki

you scoured the menu for something you liked. Loki was a bit distracted on his phone. he didnt really need to order, you already knew what he wanted so you were going to order for him. "so I'll have the Coq au Vin and my husband will have the Boeuf Bourguignon and for dessert we'll have the Guimauve Chocola." loki smiled at his phone and looked up at you. the waitress jotted down your orders and left.

and so the night proceeded. loki didn’t say anything significant. he just smiled at you while you blabbered about your day. he didn’t want to make it obvious that what you said gave him the biggest ego boost. after the meal it was time to pay the check, loki took the bill.

“I'll pay the bill” flashing you a smile with a hint of amusement in his eyes “I am your husband after all”

you looked at him. oh he liked it. perhaps a bit too much. you ordered an Uber back to your hotel. he teased you relentlessly the entire drive. "so does your husband get some special loving tonight?" "oh my gosh, enough with this already"

the Uber driver thought you both made a cute couple. "are you two married?"

you sat up looking at the driver in horror "no! we are—"

"yes we are. I'm her husband" loki interrupted, proudly announcing a title he unofficially just earned a few hours ago. he then looked at you. "isn't that right, mon amour?"

that night, while you were preparing for bed, loki walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing kisses on your nape. “someone’s awfully pleased with himself ” you teased. he pulled you closer. his lips grazed your ear and he whispered “why wouldn’t I be? You introduced me as your husband today”

“puhlease” you huffed. “it just slipped” you lied; you did it on purpose.

“did it?” he smiled, “but—” he continued “I liked it. It suited our status”

those words caught you off guard and you became flustered. you are screwed.

ೃ⁀➷sae itoshi

sae wondered how you managed to get him in this situation; fastfood drive-thru. “this is very unhealthy for you” he said, condescendingly. he could smell the greasy food that was escaping the kitchen through the vents.

“I'll be having the burrito and fries, extra sauce please” you turned to sae “anything you’d like?”

he looked at you with dead eyes “I don’t eat unhealthy filth”

you sighed and turned back to the intercom. “...and my husband will have a salad with spicy wings I guess…”

sae’s head shot back at you, his eyes wide and pupils dilating. he was so shocked that his stoic nonchalant, demeanour faultered for a second “what”

“husband? me?” he muttered in disbelief pointing at himself.

“did I say something?” you raised a brow towards him, with a flirty smile.

“no, I—” he let out a slow breath, regaining his demeanor “… you didn’t”

at the payment window, you volunteered to pay but sae wouldn’t let you. he intercepted, handing the cashier his card without even glancing at you. “I am the husband I'll pay”

on the way home, he didn’t want to face you,he couldn't. but you knew he liked it. his cheeks were lightly flushed while he focused on the road. and he kept his hand firmly on your thigh the whole ride home.

ೃ⁀➷michael kaiser

michael was concentrated on driving, his hand on the steering and his other alternating between the gear shift and your thigh, on the way to an expensive dinner reservation. you were occupied on a call with your friend. as you were approaching the destination you had to end the call:

“okay babe I have to go now, my husband and I are on our way to have some dinner—”

the car suddenly swerved just enough for you to have a mini heart attack and grab the dashboard.

“MICHAEL WHAT THE HELL!”

he regained his control over the wheel, a devilish grin forming from his lips. he kept on replaying those words in his head the rest of the way. once parked outside the restaurant he turned to you, with the biggest grin. “husband huh. I like that, say it again”

“uh wha—”

“no” he cut you off, rubbing his chin. “say it in german, ja?”

“michael we have reservations we need to go”

“that shit can wait” he scoffed “I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it”

good god you have created a monster.

“mein Ehemann” you eventually say.

music to his ears. “mhm yes I am Schatz. that sounds so good.”

he definitely did not let that go.

at the front desk he spoke out to the young lady. "good evening, she made reservations under her husband's name, my name" you shot him a 'stop that' glare.

oh he wouldn't shut up about it during the dinner as well, introducing himself to the wait staff as your husband.

you kept on nudging at him to stop. "shut up about what? being your husband??" and he said this loudly attracting the attention of all the patrons

a/n: I do intend on making a part two because I want to add nagi, reo and yukki. just didn't want to make this post too long. if you want anyone else added, please let me know!

first draft. I proofread the hell out of this and kept on becoming longer. dividers from @dollywons

pardon if there are any mistakes. english is in fact my first language, but I'm still on the learning curve of actually writing.

You've been at this for a while now, repeatedly calling out his name with a longing lilt in your tone, lashes fluttering obnoxiously as you greedily eyed up the ice lolly he'd purchased on a whim, feeling nostalgic of the past.

Something he doesn't even get a chance to fucking do.

Not when you're all up and over him, pawing at his arm to get his elusive attention, your pretty eyes all round and pleading as you stare him — the ice lolly — down.

"No…" He manages to force out, gaze desperately trying to avoid yours.

"But Sae!"

It's almost comical how quickly your mood shifts, your misplaced fury growing tenfold when he tried to pull his arm away from your vice-like grip.

Though, it's actually more comical how quickly he folds. The godforsaken memory of your tears resurfaces once more, haunting him of a future if he even considered the outlandish thought of refusal.

"Tch, here!"

Sae is surprisingly gentle despite his irate huff as he reluctantly hands you the ice treat, the pretty pink flush of his ears a telling sign of his extreme willingness.

"Thank you, Sae!"

Your gratitude has no effect on him, he lies to himself while rolling his eyes. But your next words, both ardent and considerate, send him into a spluttering mess of fluster.

"Wanna share w'me, Sae-chan?"

"No!"

It's more than just his ears that are flaming red right now, you're forwardness entirely to blame. And Sae hates to admit it, but part of him regrets refusing your golden offer of an indirect kiss.

"Damn it…" You grumble under your breath, your distracted nature failing to notice the blackmail worthy sight of his patheticness, something he's eternally grateful for, for he'd rather die than be caught—

"You were supposed to throw the stick in the bin after having the last lick..!"

"…."

julian loki is the kind of guy who's sometimes too competitive in his life. whether it's running the parent race and obliterating every father with a pot belly, or accepting an infant's challenge to a game and absolutely smoking them even if they've only just recently learnt the rules of said game, julian's never really been one to hold back or show mercy against his opponents. even if it means dealing with a bunch of profane complaints or snotty tears. funnily enough, however, julian can't seem to hold the same sentiment when it comes to you.

Loki can't believe how it's come to this.

How one moment, the huge sports court was filled with an entire class of student, split exactly in half and into two opposing teams for an average game of dodgeball. And how in the next — after the whistle was blown, signifying the start of the wretched game — one team had somehow reduced to exactly one member while the other, Loki's team, remained untouched.

Obviously, with Mr. Sweat on one team, his accuracy, speed and strength combined, they were sure to have been the victors of this game. But that wasn't the inconceivable part of this situation, the actual inconceivable part was how you, with your imbalance, slowness, and the aim of a blind bat, had managed to become the lone survivor of this game.

You're standing there like a newborn deer caught in headlights, shaking in your scuffed trainers as you stare ahead with your mouth agape, likely just as surprised as everybody else in the room was to be the last one standing.

The shouts of your despair ridden teammates prove to be of no use to you either. Their countless 'catch the ball', 'hit someone' and 'pick up the ball' falling deaf on your ears, only stressing you out further, something Loki is quick to pick up on.

"I- I, sniff, can't do this..!"

You're not even holding the soft ball properly anymore, dropping it on accident only to recollect it with the clumsiness of a bull in a china shop, your resolve completely driven to a standstill. A sight that infuriates Loki more than he'd like to admit.

Nothing happens for a good while, and Loki begins to grow just as restless and impatient as his useless teammates behind him that urge him to end this 'boring' game, tempting advice that goes ignored.

He feels slight pity towards you, who looks a moment away from bursting into tears, and even considers throwing a ball right into your hands so he could get himself out of this game when a yawn nearly threatens to slip past him in his boredom. That is until— your stance changes.

It's so sudden, how the air around you shifts in an instant, your gaze focused unlike before as you press your feet firmly against the ground. You hold one hand out before you, taking aim with the concentration of a veteran while the other, holding the soft ball, pulls back with fixed intent. Your positioning snaps him into one of his own, a defensive stance ready to catch the ball he was sure you would launch with all your might.

A useless endeavour, for the ball does not come to him at mach speed like he expects.

"Watch me unleash— Eeek-!"

In fact, it does not even come to him at all.

The ball's trajectory is strangely off, and Loki follows it with blank eyes, as it goes up high and back down anticlimactically, hitting you square in the head with a comically loud 'thwack' that has him half wince at your crumbling figure.

"It- It hurts—!! WAHHHH!"

He wastes no time when your pathetic whining reaches his ears, a noise that urges him into motion and under the ball that has bounced off of your head perfectly.

The ball hits his thigh before its motion is completely killed, the sudden stillness of it rebounding off of him signalling his defeat— something he doesn't get even a chance to be depressed over when he's rushing over to you instead, thoughts of how to comfort your dramatically weeping figure consuming his mind in its place.

bunny iglesias likes, or rather, loves to taunt people just for the pure sake of it. he's not exactly sure what of it gives him so much thrill, perhaps it's the way his insensitive comments have a way of wiping away people's jarring smile, but it's one of his favourite past times nonetheless. especially when it comes to teasing you who is comically expressive in your reactions. that is, of course, until you start crying.

"You look pretty today."

It's not often Bunny compliments you, it's not ever that he compliments you actually. The insensitive man's always trying to piss you off somehow. Be it pulling on your pigtails, pinching your rounded cheeks or stealing your belongings and keeping it out of reach, he never lets the opportunity to rage-bait you pass.

So it's no wonder that you — painfully used to his taunts and teases — can't seem to comprehend the kind words that have just come out of his mouth.

"Gah—" You blink owlishly, a noise of confusion slipping by you as imaginary question marks floated around the both of you in tandem.

"I'm not lying," he guards you with a slight curve to his lips, amusement visible in his jewelled eyes as he gave you another once over, nodding to himself like you'd passed his standards. "You look pretty."

"Uh… well!" You huff, quickly gaining sense of his unsettling but truthful words as the minutes passed. Placing a hand to your chest and using the other to flick your hair back, you returned his tight smile with a cocky grin of your own, very clearly pleased to finally hear his praises. "I am pretty—"

Bunny doesn't give you a chance to reaffirm yourself, not when he interrupts you mid speech, completely crushing your self fangirling with his petulant cruelty.

"Pretty ugly."

It's so comical how quick the blooming flowers around you wilt the way your smile drops, replaced with an expression of outrage that tickles him more than he'd like to admit.

"What?!"

"That's right." He hums with content, pinching his chin in mock thought while making a point to ignore your profane complaints, as if he didn't actively find sick enjoyment in your torment. "Maybe as ugly as a blobfish? Ah, but that's an insult to the poor blobfi—"

"I don't look like a blobfish!" Your fists clench as you shake your head profusely, absolutely adamant on denying his utter bullshit.

"What was that?" He cups the back of his ear and crouches low beside you, mockingly accommodating for your shorter stature to hear you better.

"I said I don't—!"

"You're uglier than a blobfish? Ah, tsk tsk," he kisses his teeth with disapproval only to continue with his sadism. "You should have more confidence in yourself, well actually, it's better to acknowledge the truth than lie to your—"

"I'm, I'm not ugly…!" You deny once more, except this time, your voice cracks with uncertainty, a tremble that does not go unheard by the taller man.

"What..?" Bunny's gaze flies to you in an instant, heart clawing in his throat when your glossy eyes, along with your wobbly and down-turned lips greet him in tandem.

"I'm not, sniff, an uggo..!" You whine pathetically, the globs of unshed tears finally falling down your cheeks in your bout of childish despair, a sight that knocks the wind out of him and urges him into motion.

Bunny's reaction is immediate much like his regret, one arm wrapping around your squirming figure and pulling you infinitely closer to his proximity.

"Yeah, yeah," he folds pathetically quicker, wiping away at your ceaseless tears with gentleness unfit of him. "You're not ugly, so stop crying… damn it."

lwk kinda rusheddddd, but uhhh lmk if u want part 2 w the other 3 ng11

perm bllk tag: @ran1a-sh2 @123dabby123 @luvvcharxo @itssnow1e @saintly11x @akatuenk @thetwinkims @lushbunsssmain @cosmosrainpuddle @musenami @krilleaterr @boba-rama @lua-1201 @nagisbunni

main! masterlist

Not only did it make the most sense, it would also be the most efficient method. A foolproof plan you were absolutely confident in, until, well, you weren't…

"It's what desperation does to a woman, y'know? But this one in particular has loose legs, why else would she spread them for a mere knight?"

Huh?

The comment is accompanied with a scoff of disdain, followed by a chorus of mocking laughter from the rest that only encourages the assailant further.

"A wench off the street would only know the wicked ways she grew up with, it's no wonder she's managed to seduce that arrogant Hugo into warming her bed."

HUHHHHH????

You nearly choke, eyes bulging out of their sockets as you replay the crude words that fall out the knight's mouth in his heated moment of passion.

While he made no blatant mention of this woman's name, it really didn't take an esteemed scholar to put two and two together.

Seduction? Hugo? And bed warming?

Only one person came to mind at the description, and unfortunately, it was yourself.

Me?! DOING THAT WITH HUGO?!!!

You've never been more grateful for the large pillar that put distance between yourself and the vilifying paladins, a fact that made you invisible to their knowledge, but still within earshot of their conversation.

Maybe, just maybe, it'll do you far better to avoid them entirely than even breathe their way, considering how you weren't exactly spoken about with reverence.

But sleeping with Hugo, huh…?

It's so outrageous, you didn't even know where to begin unpicking this misunderstanding.

How the hell did people even conjure this up—?

Oh.

Wait...

Right, now that you really considered it, whenever Hugo was brought up into your conversations, it was always followed up with the question of feeling cold.

A question like that was sure to be misinterpreted at some point, but who knows?

Maybe it was the truth.

You were fully convinced something did happen between the two of you while you were unconscious after all. A strange development that not only increased his love meter, but also the physical proximity that you shared with him. Having a sexual relationship with him didn't even seem that far fetched given how you were intent on seducing him in the first place.

Still, I don't think it was anything like that though...

Because while the claim made unusual sense upon first glance, it was beyond improper for a noble lady to have some sort of secret affair with a knight. The house servants would've expressed some kind of outrage at the very least, but they seem afraid instead..?

They could've been threatened into silence, but there's strangely no plausibility in that either. Especially with the addition of Charles, an anomaly who isn't the type to abide by orders and remain silent.

More than that, however, he's also the innocent type. Quick to feel guilty at the slightest mistake, and even quicker to feel embarrassed at anything remotely indecent. So, the fact that he was able to question you about wanting Hugo's presence without breaking into a fit of splutters, meant that it was unlikely you were doing anything obscene with him.

Though, of course, there was also the time when Hugo unintentionally let it slip last night that he'd been keeping an eye on your room. A blunder that could easily encourage the notion of you sleeping with him.

But, I think he's actually monitoring me…

Why else would he inquire about your food intake and insist on carrying you back to your room because your feet were 'hurting'?

It almost seems like he's been taking care of you instead, and likely under the vice-commander's orders at that. After all, Loki — out of everyone you've encountered so far — has concerned himself most with your well-being. It wouldn't surprise you if the vice-commander, swamped with endless work that came from his high position, left Hugo to handle your needs in his stead.

"…."

Not that I really care about the rumours or anything... I'll end up doing more than just sleeping with my love interests in the near future anyway… so yeah, it doesn't really matter.

The realisation of your pitiful situation dawns upon you once more. It pulls a wistful sigh out of you. One that lingers in your chest with irritating persistence. Suffocating as it clings to your throat, a physical reminder of your cruelly determined fate.

And it's just so goddamn demeaning.

That your survival is entirely dependent on these mens' opinion of you. That your existence lay solely in pleasing them to their heart's delight. That this second chance you've been given at life is nothing more than punishment disguised as a miracle.

It doesn't…

Your brows furrow against themself, denial quick to draw its walls over the truth your heart struggles to speak.

It doesn't bother me.

While it's a little humiliating having to hear someone's poor opinion of you, especially after having only dealt with people's silence, it's also… strangely pleasant.

The sincerity behind his hurtful words are much better than the house servant's hushed secrecy. They give you something to work with, context clues that help you infer the situation at hand. Which, at oftentimes, is better than having nothing at all.

Even if half the shit he says are just twisted rumours, there's always a grain of truth in them. Always. And it's a detail you can't afford to ignore, not when you're ignorant enough.

You snort, mildly amused by your masochism. To think there'd come a day where you would willingly put yourself in the way of discomfort.

Desperation truly had people seeking the worst.

Another sigh leaves you in tandem as you lean back on the pillar for support, the early noon breeze crisp as it weaves through your loosely pinned hair — a personal request of yours. One that was met with surprising protest from your attendant, and only just barely quelled with your complaint of headaches that came from the usual updos.

Apparently, the sight of a maiden's hair was as scandalous as her bare ankles. Sure to wreak havoc in the form of rumours and gossip.

Not that you cared much for that, not when these rumours were in fact more informative than the library's vast selection of books.

I'll listen just a little longer…

"That damn harlot only bears disgrace to the Commander's name! He's been graceful enough, raising her from rags to riches overnight, but still, that bitch continues to stain his honour with her disobedience!"

Rags to riches?

His words pique your interest once more, raising a brow of intrigue that you catch in the stained glass window's reflection.

Does that imply I'm not of noble birth?

Your features appear in its reflective surface, and you're reminded of your charming beauty again. A trait comparable to the stoic beauty of the man in the portrait displayed within the castle, the Master of this household and the Commander of its military, Noel Noa.

I reckoned that might be the case since we looked nothing alike…

You thought back to the limited genealogy records the library had to offer, and the lack of them was suddenly starting to make sense now. It's no wonder you couldn't find a single thing about your heritage, you were adopted this whole time!

But he can't stand me because… I'm not blue-blooded? That's strange…

As far as you can remember, it's not like the Commander's lineage was anything to write home about either. That man was peasant just as much as you, originating from the slums as an impoverished boy with only insatiable hunger to get him by. The only notable difference between yourself and him would be… his impressive feats.

"He's achieved so much: wealth, fame, power! And he's still capable of so much more, but that shrew only holds him back!"

Haha, I guess I can sort of sympathise with his anger now…

The man he looked up to had accomplished greatness despite his poor origins, and it was an achievement widely recognised by the people, even by the Emperor himself who'd rewarded Noel's success with the noble status he holds today.

So, perhaps, seeing his idol, a self-made billionaire be charitable to a useless little cretin like you, rubbed him the wrong way. And you couldn't blame him for it either, considering how the Pifa Empire unusually prioritised meritocracy over nepotism.

To the hardworking knight, you must've looked like a spoiled brat, leeching off another's success. A sight heavily frowned upon in today's society.

Though, again, it's not like you took any offence to his fury. Being fed off a silver spoon was the least fate could deal you with after the utter bullshit it constantly put you through.

Hmm, but why did that man adopt me..?

The Marquisate, while praised for its independence and diverse farmland, is territory known primarily for its highly prized military. A force led solely by the Sword of the Great Pifa Empire, the man who is your adoptive father. What benefit could he possibly get from raising you when he practically had everything already!?

I imagine his reputation among the common folk took a massive hit after his 'rags to riches' transformation. Does he wish to change their opinion by showing them the face of a generous master…?

But why would a man, busy with the critical duty of fortifying the land, regulating cross-border trade, and repelling hostile foreign neighbours even bother with his popularity among the common folk?

Is he planning a revol—?

"I mean, what fool considers the Duke a better suitor than the Imperial Crown Prince?!"

Oh?

It's embarrassing how quick you perk up at the talk of romantic drama, much too entertained by gossip that you somehow seemed to forget was directed at you.

The Duke? And the Crown Prince?!

The box of macarons is still miraculously in your hands, though slightly dented under the force of your trembling fingers. A jitter born from the anticipation that came with the knight's careless disclosure.

And you're even positive that there's literal steam coming out your ears in your bout of peculiar excitement, an emotion you haven't felt since coming into this world.

Well, maybe you did. When you were thinking about your energy drinks…

"He doesn't even return her feelings, for God's sake! And he hasn't even visited her once since she collapsed this past week!"

Unrequited… UNREQUITED FEELINGS?! But— but I'm so beautiful!

You were quite certain the cold duke returned your feelings of affection in his own questionable way, the diary mentioned something about how your efforts weren't in vain after all! And what else was it? Some sort of precious stone you were gifted by him?

You weren't exactly a love expert, but wasn't that basically a love confession?

So what's this sudden talk about unreciprocated feelings?! What moron would even think to refuse your advances?!

"And now that desperate slut sleeps with Hugo?! And that damn greedy bastard has no complaints about it either!"

Well, I am irresistible after all!

The soap opera reaches its climax, and vigour courses through your veins in tandem, running like divine spark as you grin with satisfaction.

You clutch the macarons close to your pounding chest, fingers growing clammy as you mentally debated your next course of action. An internal conversation that barely lasts a moment, for your decision comes as natural as breathing.

Sorry Charles! But you'll have to wait just a bit longer for your sweets! It's getting really good right now—!

"Oh! It's Lady [Name]!"

"GaH—!"

You aren't able to control the noise of absolute horror that escapes you at the sight of the familiar boy.

Something he doesn't even pick up on when he very happily bounds his way over towards you, waving an obnoxious hand about as his intense gaze landed on you— his macarons — a sight that had him comically brighten.

What the hell is he doing here?!

"My lady!" He greets with an overbearing grin, eyes never leaving the decorative box as his fingers twitched by his side with unbridled excitement. "Is that what I think it is~?"

"Y-yes!" You panic, heart climbing up your throat as you grabbed his wrist to pull him closer and away from the knights' line of sight.

Your endeavours are thankfully successful. Charles doesn't protest much to your relief. He obliges rather pliantly, unbecoming of the stubborn contrarian he normally is.

"But more importantly," you collect yourself with a feigned cough, sweat building up at the base of your nape. Discomfort that has you momentarily regret refusing the updo your attendant encouraged earlier. "How come you're here right now..?"

What's with my shitty luck?! When I look for him everywhere he's nowhere to be found, but the moment I start to be grateful for his absence, that's when he decides to fucking turn up!?

Could this get any fucking worse?!

"Me? Well, um…" He pinched his chin in deep ponder, eyes scrunching as he tried to recollect what he was up to before he stumbled upon you. A thought that is clearly too difficult for him to conjure when there's only one thing running on his mind right now. "I think… I think I was supposed to… uh—"

"You were supposed to..?" You encouraged with growing impatience, smile becoming taut as the seconds passed dauntingly.

"Ah! Hugo!" The boy slaps his fist against his palm like it's finally come to him again, blatantly unaware of your horrified complexion. "He wanted to see me here!"

"He did..?" You hummed nervously, your thoughts falling back to the blabbering knight only a short distance away.

I have a bad feeling about this…

Knowing your shitty luck, it'd do you best to leave and to do that now. As soon as possible. There's no telling what the future holds, you could blink, and suddenly, be dealt with another bad hand.

It was a common occurance after all.

"Well, he's not here." You confirm quickly, your restlessness showing in the way your grip around his wrist grew tighter.

"Let's go look for him elsewhe—"

But, alas, you don't get a chance to finish. Not when fate — cruel and untimely — beats you to the punch. Meddling with your affairs the way it loves to put you under trials and tribulations.

"Oho?"

Oh no—!

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the man of the hour. Hugo himself."

Shit!

Dread pools in your stomach in an instant. It consumes you completely, weakening the strength in your knees and the resolve of your heart.

And then, as if to mock your pathetic situation further, something you aren't even aware is possible, Charles begins to resist.

Your attempt to ignore the blabbermouth and lug the blond away is terribly futile when he comes to a sudden standstill, refusing to leave as he stares across the courtyard to identify whatever has caught his elusive interest.

You follow his gaze, eyes wavering as they settled on what you prayed wouldn't be the case: Hugo surrounded by the group of knights, clueless to the spiteful remarks they were spouting of him just earlier.

"So? How tight is it?"

They snigger amongst themselves, finding cruel enjoyment in Hugo's growing confusion. A sentiment you don't share, not when you're burning with shame as Charles turn towards you, question loud in his deafening silence.

"Or is it loose from all that whoring around? What's so enjoyable about that?"

Hugo says something to them in response, but it's so quiet and barely audible, you don't hear a single thing over the thunderous beat of your heart.

You can only see, vision bleary as their amusement quickly vanishes. Replaced with unbridled fury, an overwhelming rage that spurs the leading assailant into action.

Everything happens all at once.

How the man grows defensive, how he aggressively grabs the collar of Hugo's tunic, and how he reels his other hand back with the promise of peril.

And you're not sure what comes over you in that moment either.

Whether it's the warning signs that blare in your ears, of Hugo getting hurt and blaming you for it, or if it's the adrenaline that comes with imminent violence, but your feet move before your mind gives them time to think.

"Hugo!"

Thankfully, the distance separating you is short. Barely existing, and only a couple of meters away. A fact that has you appear before your worst fears could manifest into reality.

"[Name]..?"

Hugo's bewilderment is palpable in the way your name rolls off his tongue without formality, but it's also visible, in the way his eyes widen with alarm when they land on you.

The defaming knight seems just as surprised, repeating your name slowly, as if trying to recall the last time he'd heard of it. An endeavour that he quickly gives up on when it reaps no answers.

"The— the vice-commander," you stammer, breath falling short as you return the redhead's questioning stare, absolutely intent on ignoring how the rest of them are staring at you too. "He, he uh— wished to see you…"

Silence ensues following your announcement, it stretches uncomfortably long, and you have to resist the visceral urge to rip your hair out from the unfortunate turn of events.

Just why does this shit keep happening to me?!

"Julian?" Hugo finally comes to his senses, casually shrugging off his aggressor's hold like it took no effort at all.

"Yes, he says it's a desperate matter." You nearly weep with joy when Hugo approaches you with the intention of leaving, but regrettably, your joy is only short-lived.

For the other man doesn't appreciate the lack of answers.

"Desperate?" The guy raises a brow, recognition woven in his curiosity as he addresses you. "Ah, I know what this is."

You try to ignore him, you really do, but his next words stop you dead in your tracks.

"The desperate matter here is the bastard lady's loose legs, isn't it?"

"…."

I said I wouldn't get involved… but—

"Oh? Did I hit the nail right on its head? Were you all supposed to participate in ménage à trois?"

But, your gaze falls on Hugo beside you as your thoughts drift to Charles a short distance away, but I'm not longer at a disadvantage.

"…What is your name?"

Your voice is low but levelled as you speak, every word controlled as you raise your eyes to meet his with unwavering confidence. Something you weren't aware you were capable of until today.

Plus, he's insulted you to your face now. Dismissing this level of insolence as a noble woman would do you no favour in the future. It'll only create a breeding ground for much worse treatment.

"What—"

"Your name, state it."

There's unusual coldness that accompanies your order. A frigid temperature you aren't familiar with hearing despite how easily it leaves your mouth.

"My name..? Why? So you can tattle to the vice-commander and warm his coc—"

"I asked you for your name." You repeat, tone sharp as you follow it up with an insult. "Are you a fool, unable to comprehend such a simple question?"

"What—!"

"You have no problem using that foul mouth of yours to insult your master." You sneer, eyes narrowed as you cut him off for the umpteenth time, leaving him with no chance to affront you again.

"But you have trouble answering a question that a mutt would have no problem doing? Do they accept just anyone in the Marquisate?"

"You bitch—!"

The man, raged beyond rationality, speeds towards you, expression contorted and fist raised. It's bright white, you note offhandedly. Clenched tight with fury that spurs him into doing something completely unwise.

You briefly register a noise beside you, perhaps it's Hugo, but you're too focused on the way the guy's closing in to confirm it.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he's an arms length away. And that's exactly when your adrenaline spikes.

Your hand holding the box of macarons reels back to aim, and after a short pause, it swings with intent.

The metal box is suddenly airborne. The macarons are falling out from the force. And the trajectory is perfect. On route to hit its moving target with eerie precision.

BONK!

"Argh—!"

And it's a perfect bullseye!

He shrieks from the abrupt impact, rubbing at his head furiously to ease the pain that spreads across his skull. A futile effort that only fuels his whiplash and dismantles his balance.

The knight flails about for a moment, grabbing uselessly at thin air before he trips over himself and ultimately falls to the ground headfirst, where his trauma is at its peak.

Thud!

"…."

You finally breath, shoulders sagging with relief as you took it all in. The now unconscious knight, the ruined macarons that he tread all over in his helpless flounder, and the solace of silence that ensues.

Silence that doesn't last.

"THOSE WERE MY MACARONS! MINE!!!"

You blink, brows shooting up with horror as Charles, blinded with rage, sped towards you with a sparring sword in his hand.

I'm— I'm going to die!!!

Though what you fear doesn't come.

Not in death or a painful beating like you expect. Not when Hugo's arm encircles around your waist and pulls you back quickly. Into the warmth of his chest and just a hair's breadth away from where Charles lands — right on top of the unconscious man with no regards for his well-being.

"AND YOU STEPPED OVER THEM ALL! YOU BASTARD!"

It seems, that the young knight's anger was not aimed at you, but at your assailant.

And you can only watch, expression contorting with mild pity as he took another beating from Charles. One that was sure to leave him knocked out cold for more than just a few days…

STATUS UPDATE:

[Vivian Hugo is glad that you're seeing eye to eye with you aptitude again.]

[+10 love points]

[Total progress: 80/150]

Aptitude…? I don't know what means but… he's gonna kiss my ass with gratitude now, isn't he? Heh!

"My lady," Hugo addresses you, voice husky as his breath fanned over your cheek from his proximity. A warmth that snaps you back to reality.

Hurry up and start complimenting me already—!

"You didn't keep your promise to Charles." He states matter-of-factly, turning to face you with a look of disapproval.

"…." Your delusions are shattered instantly, and the aura of your arrogance follows suit, wilting pitifully as you squirm under his pointed stare.

What was I expecting..?

"I'm very disappointed." He shakes his head, kissing his teeth passionately, as if the childish promise has completely broken his heart.

[-20 love points.]

WHAT?!

"D-disappointed?!" You're appalled by his nerve, more than just caught off-guard with the excessive drop in his love meter.

Was he really that disappointed? Over some fucking sweets? Sweets that were so easily replaceable?!

"I was trying to defend myself over here!" You can't even hide your outrage as you meet his gaze head on, only wavering when he returned your stare with complete coolness, scrutinising you down to the very bone.

"What do you mean?" Hugo's eyes don't leave your face, even as he tilts his head with question, like he can't seem to comprehend the reasoning behind your actions. "Gabriel would've never managed to do anything."

"Huh?" You're taken aback from his bluntness, a jarring deadpan that triggers your instinct and urges you to struggle helplessly in his vice-like grip. "Ugh! Let go of me!"

"And…" His voice trails fondly, as he heeds to your wish by gently freeing you from his protective hold. "I would've protected you if anything did happen."

You safely distance yourself from him, crossing your arms as you scoffed in his face with dubiety "Oh really?"

"Yes, it's my duty as your personal guard." Hugo nods, the lengths of his red hair bopping from the sudden movement. "Just like I did now when I protected you from getting caught up in the middle of Charles' and Gabriel's duel."

He calls that one-sided beating a duel..?

"…."

Your eyes narrow with suspicion when he blinks softly in response, not at all bothered with your blatant disbelief.

"If you have any doubts, we can go to Julian and confirm this arrangement." He notices your uncertainty and quickly offers a compromise, a measure that would only come from someone who's been keeping a careful eye on you. "You said he called for me? It's two birds with one stone."

You consider his offer for a short moment, only to realise the mess your little white lie from earlier has caught you up in.

"Oh… um, about that…"

"Yes?"

Shit.

LOVE INTERESTS:

Vivien Hugo: 60/150

Julien Loki: 40/100

comment to be added to taglist!

✧˖*sae itoshi

he was ready to leave for practice, bag slung over his shoulder. you walked him to the door hold his water bottle. before he left he looked at you with a soft and loving gaze and leaned in to kiss you. but at the last minute, you swerved, feigning concern about his shoelaces. when he ties them, he leaned in again and you dodged it once again by saying you left the oven on. he was genuinely confused under that blank expression.

“did I do something?”

“oh, no. why?”

his brows furrowed while he watched you left for the kitchen. he followed you, hovering at the entrance of the kitchen and he announced “I’m leaving now”

“okay good luck at practice” you walk up to him. he was expecting a kiss. But you gave him a hug and skipped away. he left anyway. upset and confused. and with no goodbye kiss

“sae-chan is distracted today what happened?” shidou questioned as he inched closer to sae.

sae, inching away from him, “mind your own business you horny demon”

his jaw was tight. the events of the morning plagued him so much. he started questioning everything: had he done something wrong? did he upset you somehow? did he forget something important? is she pranking me?

whatever the reason was, it subtly tormented him for the rest of practice. and shidou was right—he was distracted..

by the end of practice, he was a mess. he replayed every interaction you had with him in the morning, over analyzing every action, word and moment.

when he got home, he sought you out immediately. found you laying on the couch, on your phone completely unaware of the emotional torment you had put him through. he walked up to you, gently grabbing your chin to face him.

“did I upset you in some way?”

“no you didn’t”

he searched your expression for a lie but found none. “okay” he let out a soft sigh and his shoulders relaxed.

still holding your chin, he tilted his head and gave you a slow, passionate kiss.

✧˖*julien loki

the moment you dodged his kiss at the last second, he paused. his eyes narrowed and a smug smirk formed. “interesting” he teased “is that how it is now?” Before you could react he walked away.

he made you play the long game and good god did he make you feel every second of it. he constantly and relentlessly teased you.

he deliberately spoke near you, tempting you and when you tried to kiss him he pulled away. and he wasn’t subtle about it either. he would straight up seduce you, his lips grazing yours, but when you try to close the gap he dodged, pulled away or straight up blocked you.

it became a game of who would cave in first and it was clear that it wouldn’t be him.

“oh cmon it was a joke give me a break”

“hmm no. youll crack before I do.”

it has been three days, and he still hasn’t kissed you. you marched into the kitchen and cornered him. “im tired of this” you cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him. But he swerved. You let out an exhausted sigh. “okay fine you win” you said, head held down, under your breath.

a smug smile formed and he tilted his head to see your expression. “whats that?”

“I said you win. happy now?” you snapped and stomped away in defeat. he gently grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back

“no need to be so snappy, mon amour” he slid his arm around your waist, his face inches from you with a childish grin. “you were the one who started this” he began kissing you slowly and deliberately from the neck going up, to your jaw, then your cheek. his thumb was teasingly tracing the pattern of your lips, as if he wanted to kiss you. you leaned in and he pulled back, with that sly grin.

you huffed and pushed him away, but he cupped your face and leaned in, finally kissing you, slow and deep like he was trying to compensate for the last three days. you felt him smiling against your lips at your defeat.

✧˖*michael kaiser

michael did not take it lightly. You were in the kitchen completely absorbed in whatever you’re doing. he came up behind wrapping his arm around you and turned you around. he began to kiss you slowly from your neck, then your jawline, then cheek. when he reached your lips, he leaned in but you swerved. “what?” “hm?” “why did you dodge my kiss?” “I didn’t?”

he tried again and leaned in but you dodged it again and ducked out of his embrace.

“big mistake, liebe” he yelled lunging at you.

you scurried out of the kitchen, your laughter echoing in the corridor

“you think this is funny?”

your home was a battlefield. he chased after you. you were doing the most: jumping over sofas, crawling under tables, running into the kitchen and circling the island a couple of times.

when you ran into the bedroom you were at a dead end. he cornered you in the bedroom and pinning you down onto the bed. you were still laughing.

“game over, I win” he said, chest heaving. “and now im going to take my prize”

“no fair you cheated” you protested, still breathless from the running and the laughter.

“schatzi, you don’t know?” he purred, his lips hovering over yours. “I always get what I want."

he claims the kiss he’d been chasing you for. it was a deep and possessive kiss, stealing your breathe once again.

he pulled back with a smug grin, he traced your lips and kissed you again, softer and needier. he whispered between the kiss “never again, Schatz.”

✧˖*reo mikage

reo was genuinely offended. he went through the five stages of grief.

first, denial. he was in utter disbelief and couldn't fathom what was happening. noone's ever withheld affection from him before. especially not you. then anger. not at you, but at himself. he started replaying every interaction and revised every date, wondering what he'd done wrong or forgot an important date.

then he started bargaining: what if she forgot? what if I'm reading into it too much? what if she is pranking me?

then depression: he mopped around the whole day, his head down and did not want to do anything.

but he didn’t go through the acceptance stage. he refused to.

it became a mission to win you over. he bought you the most expensive flowers and showered you with gifts, as an apology for something he didn’t know he did wrong.

“reo enough!!” you yelled

“no. are you still mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you?”

“you didn’t kiss me”

“oh my gosh, I cant joke around with you”

reo paused. “IT WAS A JOKE!!?? WHY WOULD YOU PREY ON AN INNOCENT MAN LIKE THAT”

“I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D TAKE IT THIS FAR”

there was a moment of awkward silence after the yelling match. reo began to pout. you sighed and pulled him in by the collar and kissed him. it was brief and sweet. “happy now?”

“no” he pulled you in by your waist and kissed you, like he was compensating for lost time. he pulled back, his lips still lingering on yours. “don’t joke around like that” he placed a kiss on your cheek, hovering over your ear. “just don’t stop kissing me.

✧˖*seishiro nagi

you didn’t kiss him good morning, but he did not think much of it. you probably forgot. so he didn’t make much of fuss. but when you left for errands without a goodbye kiss, he became a bit confused. when you came back and didn’t kiss him, he noticed the pattern and he did not like it..

nagi didn’t think much about anything. but this? he started to think too much into it. were you fed up with his laziness? you always initiated kisses. it never seemed to bother you much. but now that you’re not giving him any attention at all, and it sent him into a spiral.

you noticed it immediately. he hadn’t touched his gaming gear for the whole day and he followed you around like a lost kitten.

“are you okay, sei?” you asked.

“yea” he said,but he his eyes were desperate.

he clung to you like a baby koala. sitting so close to you or resting his chin on your shoulder while you're doing dishes or waiting for you outside the bathroom door. he wanted you to address the situation, to notice his despair.

finally he was fed up. He cupped your face, murmuring “why are you not kissing me? are you mad at me?”

he didn’t give you a chance to answer. he softly squeezed your face making your lips pucker up and gave you a clumsy kiss.

when he pulled back he looked at you with a soft, relieved expression. “don’t do that again. it felt so wrong”

♡ top divider: @designlikenonsense butterfly dividers: @moonstoneandmoonlight

♡ a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while. proofread to an extent

♡ pardon if there are any mistakes. english is my first language, but I'm still on the learning curve of actually writing.

♡ thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated

“I'm not gatekeeping the bathroom.”

“You literally are.”

“I'm gatekeeping my apartment.”

“Same thing!”

“Not even remotely the same thing.”

“LOKI—”

Loki pointed at both of them.

“Neither of you are getting in.”

“Wow,” Charles gasped, clutching his chest like he'd just been personally betrayed. “After everything we've been through.”

Loki rolled his eyes with the statement. But that was all it took. The moment his attention slipped for even a second, Charles darted past him.

“THANKS LOVE YOU—” He ducked under Loki's arm and sprinted inside.

“OH YOU LITTLE—!”

“SORRY CAN'T HEAR YOU—EMERGENCY.”

Before Loki could grab him, Charles bolted up the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the house. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and turned around, only to find Hugo calmly stepping inside as if none of that had just happened.

“I’m glad you didn’t overreact,” Hugo jokingly said, glancing toward the stairs, “now could you point me to the kitchen?”

And in his head, the thought came in right away. This is the worst decision I have ever made in my entire life. Why did I open the door. Now there's two unsolicited guests on my apartment.

“No.”

“I’m going to the kitchen.”

“You’re not.”

Hugo kept walking.

“Destiny has led me to your refrigerator.”

“You’re just hungry.”

“That's what the refrigerator wants you to think.”

Loki was already preparing himself to physically drag Hugo away from his kitchen when Hugo suddenly stopped.

"...Oh."

Loki immediately knew that tone.

It was the tone people used when they found something unexpected. Or better yet, someone. And while following Hugo's line of sight, Loki looked toward the living room.

And there, sitting on the couch, was you.

Curled up comfortably beneath a blanket, completely unaware of the chaos that had just barged through the front door, you glanced up from your phone at the sound of voices.

“Oh, you’re back—”

You paused when you noticed Hugo standing there.

“Oh. Hi.” Hugo blinked. Then, after a brief pause, cleared his throat to ask the most important question.

“Do you know where Loki keeps the snacks?”

Loki sighed.

“Hugo.”

You looked between the two of them, immediately sensing that you had walked into the middle of something.

“Uh...” Your gaze landed on Hugo. “Am I missing context here?”

Hugo looked completely serious.

“Yes,” he said. “The location of the snacks.”

“Sorry?”

A small crease formed between your brows. Hugo blinked once.

“...Aren't you the maid?” he asked. “I thought you'd know where they were.”

Loki closed his eyes, already refusing to engage with whatever direction this conversation was about to take. He genuinely didn’t have the energy to unpack it.

Before Hugo could add anything else and somehow make everything worse, a new voice suddenly echoed from upstairs.

“LOKIII!” Charles shouted. “WHERE DO YOU KEEP THE GOOD TOWELS?” His voice cut off abruptly, pausing to reassess his surroundings. Then his eyes landed on you.

“OHHHH. LOKI HAS A MAID?”

“NO—THE TWO OF YOU LISTEN.” Loki snapped, pointing between Charles and Hugo. “You are both completely misunderstanding the situation.”

He gestured toward you, clearly offended now, like the assumption itself was the real problem. A pause hung in the air, just long enough for the tension to build, Loki’s jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words without making things worse.

“…She is actually my girlfriend.”

The room short-circuited. Charles blinked once. Twice. Then made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a malfunction.

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!”

“Yes,” Loki said immediately, like it was the most obvious fact in the world, then added with a flat look, “she is standing right there. Do I need to start pointing things out for you, or are we good?”  

“YOU’RE LYING!”

“I’m literally not.”

Charles slowly turned toward you, as if you were the only stable point left in a suddenly collapsing reality. “Please tell me he’s joking—”

“He isn’t.”

Hugo, meanwhile, looked genuinely distressed, like reality had failed a basic verification check.

“I calculated the absence of your love life,” Hugo said calmly, as if he were stating a weather report. “Up until now, the model consistently predicted solitude as your long-term outcome.”

Loki slowly turned his head toward him.

“…I’m sorry?”

Hugo blinked, unbothered. “It was the most stable projection.”

There was a beat of silence, just long enough for the statement to sink in. Charles immediately dropped onto the couch like his bones had decided they were no longer participating in reality.

“Now, now,” Charles said, pointing between the two of you like he was assembling evidence. “How did you two even meet? What was Loki like back then? And more importantly,” he gestured at Loki like this was the biggest mystery of all, “HOW DID HE PULL YOU?”

You then proceeded to tell Charles and Hugo bits of details like how you first kept running into Loki as kids in the same neighborhood, always at odd times and quieter corners of the city. How he never really talked much back then, just noticed things in passing, starting with small “hello”s whenever you passed each other, then slowing down just a little so those hellos turned into short conversations about nothing important. After that, it became walking the same way home on purpose, sharing snacks sometimes, and waiting a few extra minutes just in case the other showed up. Over time, it turned into something soft and unspoken, until it just felt natural to stay by each other’s side.

As you spoke, Charles kept reacting dramatically at every small detail, while Hugo went quietly still, staring at Loki like he was trying to reconcile the version he had built in his head with the very normal fact that he had apparently been in a long, steady relationship this entire time without anyone noticing.

You were still talking like it was just another part of the story when you added, “…We got engaged recently, actually.”

The room stopped instantly.

Charles jolted so hard he nearly fell off the couch. “YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT LIKE IT’S A SIDE NOTE!”

You just continued smoothly, unfazed. “It felt right, though. We’ve known each other for so long that it didn’t really feel like a big decision. We just didn’t see the point in waiting forever to make it official.” As you spoke, your hand found Loki’s without hesitation, fingers slipping between his like it had always been the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t react, already used to it, only tightening his hold on yours in quiet ease, as if it had always been that way.

For a rare moment, even Charles and Hugo fell quiet, their chaos softening as they watched the two of you with something that almost resembled fondness, like they’d accidentally walked into something too soft to interrupt.

It lasted all of three seconds.

Then Charles leaned forward again. “Okay,” he said, pointing between you and Loki. “One more question. How did you even put up with Mr. Sonic over here?

Loki frowned, clearly offended. “Why is everyone acting like I’m difficult?”

All three of them turned to look at him at once, unblinking, and the weight of it made Loki’s frown deepen as he huffed a quiet, “…Continue.”

You only smiled at him, completely unbothered by the collective staring. “Honestly? He’s actually very easy.”

Loki visibly relaxed a fraction. “See?”

“—Because he’s terrified of me.”

The room detonated instantly. Charles nearly fell off the couch, Hugo made a choked sound into his cup, and Loki went still, turning slowly toward you like he had just been personally betrayed.

“I am not terrified.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I’m not.”

You only raised an eyebrow. And just like that, Loki looked away, exhaling through his nose like he had already lost the argument before it even started.

“…This is unfair,” he muttered under his breath, low and resigned, still not looking at you, like he already knew you had him wrapped around your fingers and there was no point pretending otherwise.

Charles snapped upright, pointing with shocking intensity. “OH MY GOD. HUGO DID YOU SEE THAT?”

“I saw it.”

“HE FOLDED. SPEEDY MCFEETFACE ACTUALLY FOLDED TO HIS GIRLFRIEND!”

“I hate both of you,” Loki said flatly, though it lacked any real heat.

Charles leaned back, satisfied. “Yeah yeah, say that now. We’re still coming to the wedding. Hey Hugo!” he suddenly perked up again, snapping his fingers like he’d just remembered something life-changing. “Dibs on best man!”

“…Sure,” Hugo added a second later, already looking mildly uninterested again. “I do not particularly care, but I am claiming it to prevent further discussion.”

Loki opened his mouth like he was about to shut the entire conversation down again, but you were faster. You gently squeezed his hand, leaned in close, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before brushing your lips near his ear.

“Sweetheart,” you whispered, soft enough that only he could hear, “we should definitely invite them. You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun… in a very loud, very chaotic way. But I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

Loki paused, breath catching for half a second, then slowly exhaled like all his objections had just lost their momentum at once.

And just like that, Loki didn’t just gain two unexpected house visitors for the afternoon, but two equally unexpected wedding attendees who had already appointed themselves roles he absolutely did not approve of.