If Eliza Hadnt Rejected Lilia On The Grounds Of Him Being Too Cute, She Definitely Wouldve Done So After

If Eliza hadn’t rejected Lilia on the grounds of him being too cute, she definitely would’ve done so after finding out he’s a single father.

actual representation of what it feels like to crack open the entire plot of twst ch7 with @bluelightning16

I'M CRYING THIS IS BOTH THE CUTEST AND SADDEST THING I'VE READ, THANK YOU!! LET'S JUST IGNORE ANY LILIA-GENERATED ANGST, WE'RE ALL FINE, IT'S FINE...! HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU TOO! (with an emphasis on happy, no Diasomnia Depression here... ^^;)

for @bluelightning16 ♥ have the most wonderful of holidays, and thank you for being such a lovely writing partner ♥

a very merry (vanrouge) christmas; 1/3

It was perfect.

Silver sat back on his hands and knees and admired the small wristlet of acorns as if they were jewels stunning enough to rival that of the Queen herself.

With the help of the squirrels who lived in the woodlands around their modest home, he had been able to find eight acorns left untouched by the foraging creatures— it was certainly a lucky find, and not at all a generous donation of their winter stockpile given for the reward of his rare smile each time he picked one up.

Silver had hidden them safely within his pockets on the return home, but he hadn't needed to be worried. Papa was yet to return from his visit to the castle despite the late afternoon hour, and there was still enough daylight available for what had remained to be accomplished.

Each acorn had been pierced in the center very carefully by one of his father's sewing needles until a hole large enough for a piece of twine could be ran through them all, with the ends tied snugly to fit around a certain fae's wrist. To any untrained eye, it was a crude attempt at a bracelet; to Silver, it was nothing less than his greatest wish for his Papa made tangible.

"Have you prepared a gift for Lilia-sama yet?" Sebek had asked him curiously the other day as they scampered about in the woods behind the Zigvolt home, waving swords of sticks and gleefully rolling about in the fresh build of massive snow drifts. "My father says that it's a human tradition this time of the year, to celebrate family."

" . . . I've never heard of that before, perhaps Papa doesn't know about this tradition," Silver had reflected in wonder, ignoring Sebek's wrinkled up nose at the utterly domestic title for the great General Vanrouge. Letting his 'sword' hang slack in the snow and ignoring the unsubtle way that the younger boy was trying to knock it out of his grip for a cheap win, he had worried the end of his new mitten against his mouth, brows furrowing fretfully together. " . . . Did your father say it had to be something specific?"

Having given up his blatant sabotage, Sebek had merely shrugged, kicking up a puff of snow into the air. "I think it's just a weird excuse to give us things. My father told this ridiculous story about some kind of fat man who travels across the world and delivers gifts to every child to give them joy, all at the same time in one night— as if! He'd have to be more powerful than Waka-sama in order to do that, and no one can beat him! Just the other day, I saw—"

Silver shook his head to rid himself of the unfortunately loud memory of Sebek's effusive Malleus-sama praises, touching a finger gently to the shiny, smooth pericarp as if it were just as silky smooth as the rabbits outside.

A gift to give someone joy.

It had been all he could think about as he had considered various ideas as to what could replace the typical mischievous smile on his Papa's face with a true one as equally rare as Silver's own. An edible gift was simply out of the question— thanks to his unpredictable sleeping, Silver could not be trusted to cook on his own, and seeking out help from Malleus-sama, although he would be kind enough to assist, would defeat the purpose of Silver presenting a gift that he had created all by himself. Buying something was also a moot point— his father did not allow him to wander by himself to the village, and he would have to ask his papa for money which would raise all kinds of teasing questions. Which meant, the only option that remained was for Silver to craft something out of his own hands with materials from around the cottage and woods.

But what?

The answer revealed itself a few days later, having been tucked away in one of his father's old alchemy books that Silver had been dutifully copying to work on his penmanship. The sentence only truly sunk into his brain as he read over his scrawny letters that still weren't as firm and crisp as his papa's, voice soft and halting.

The oak tree, a prominent symbol of immortality, has long since been regarded as a powerful source of magic by countless traditions, as it is held in the highest of sacred honors among all other trees. Acorns in particular are often considered talismans imbued with that great power, associated with such benefits as longevity, pain relief, prosperity, and protection (especially from evil, lightning, and illness)—

He had needed to read no further. A charm that could aid not only in his father's protection and health, but to potentially bring him the relief of the pain that plagued his hips each morning? And even better, something small enough that Silver could readily find outside and make into the kind of trinket his father could keep by him at all times for maximum effect!

His smile dares to creep a bit wider on his face as he closes small fingers around the strung brown nuts, an unfamiliar eagerness beginning to build inside of him. He had even finished just on time too! Tomorrow would be the supposed holiday that Sebek had told him about, and he could reveal his present to his father who would smile at him with that special warmth actually reaching his crinkled crimson eyes this time—

"Silver?" His father's cheerful voice rings out suddenly through their quiet home, a clattering noise resounding from the front room. "Your dear old papa is home, and with dinner too~"

With a flustered start, Silver hurriedly hides the bracelet under the soft mounds of his pillows before his father's clever ears could sense a ruse, secure for now in the stacks of plump feathery down. Hastily clambering to his feet, it's with equal caution and welcome that he peeks out around the corner of the hallway at the grinning figure, scanning the room warily for any kind of noxious, smoking dish that might signal gastro-related doom for the evening. Finding none, that small smile breaks over his face once again, and he darts eagerly out to fall into the safe embrace of his father's arms around him, face pressed snugly into the fae's stomach.

"Welcome home, Papa," he murmurs into the wine-red tunic, lifting up his chin to beam shyly up at that pointed face. "Was your visit to the castle well? Did you get to see Malleus-sama while you were there?"

Dark, gentle talons stroke through his silvery locks, and his father's sharp features somehow softens as he allows Silver to cling to his middle, directing them both smoothly to the kitchen.

"Yes, yes to all things, child— Malleus sends his best wishes, and wanted me to tell you that he is greatly appreciative of your latest artwork. 'A most fearsome depiction of a gargoyle he had not seen before' I believe were his exact words," his father chortles while Silver hides a confused frown— gargoyle? Hadn't Malleus-sama realized it was a drawing of him as a dragon? He better practice his drawing skills as much as his handwriting now . . .

"And because the Queen kept me so long, I was able to sway her into sending me home with fresh dishes from their kitchens in apology to my little beast at home," Papa gently tweaks at his nose and Silver laughs unexpectedly, playfully batting the fae's hand away as his eyes light up with delight at the prospect of having a meal from the castle tonight. The kitchen table is lined with several sealed tureens and what looks to be a marvelous example of a cake, studded high with generous pieces of dried fruit.

"Really, Papa?! This is all for us?" It's even better than he could have hoped for! They'd have so much left over for tomorrow, and his father wouldn't even have to think about 'cooking' to celebrate this new holiday, they could simply dine on delicious leftovers with plenty of dessert to share!

"All for you," his papa corrects with a smile, and Silver blinks up at him as the fae delicately extracts himself from Silver's embrace.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow morning for a few days on an errand from Her Majesty, so this ought to tide you over in the meantime. I really did think I could whip you up several nutritional potions to keep you hale and hearty, but with how long the discussions took today, I just simply did not have the time. Perhaps we ought to invest in that strange refrigerator contraption that the Zigvolts use so that we don't run into these situations in the future, I wonder if it could be modified to run on magic—"

But Silver hears none of his father's merry ramblings, swallowing down the devastated feeling in his stomach as he's pushed numbly towards the table to receive a heaping plateful of what should have been fragrant, enticing food. All he can think of is the innocuous little bracelet resting underneath his pillows, and even the cake crumbles to ash in his mouth along with the visions of spending a wonderful day with just his father by his side.

For how would they ever celebrate together now?

Glass Pieces!!

I just finished the brief glassblowing course I was taking today, so here are some of my pieces! They’re not very good, but hey, doing this by hand is harder than it looks… TT Shot glasses and bottles are my specialties. ;)

@llondonfog & @bluelightning16 's very self-indulgent and WILD twst wonderland ch 7 theory —buckle up

The child hadn't perished after all.

Failure— she had forgotten in her long, long reign its bitter taste as she stares at the thinly veiled concern building in her once-hardened General's crimson eyes, tapered fingers tightening imperceptibly along the arm of her throne as he explains in a strained voice that the palace healers had discovered his adopted human son was somehow cursed with a sleeping spell.

How? What had gone awry?

Everything had been so intricately planned, the silken seduction of a spider's web laid in place to ensnare all those fools who thought to challenge their very existence, to challenge her. The war had been in their favor from the very beginning, the measly human kingdoms no match for fae power, majesty, and might. It would have been all too easy to subdue those that remained, to let them remember the cost of what it meant to incur the wrath of those far superior to them. An all but assured victory would have been in their grasp, the opportunity to finally smite the greedy who had dared for so long to ravage their lands and seize the power within, had it not been for one rebellious kingdom that thought it had the right to sue for peace.

And then, her idiotic son had somehow gone soft, had actually proposed that they bend a knee to the humans and listen to their compromise! As if none of their suffering had mattered, as if the despair of their people who had been persecuted by humankind meant nothing to him! If he had been a changeling, she might have laughed— for he surely could not have been any blood of hers. It was unfortunate, for even she could be sorrowful, that he and his wife mysteriously perished in an apparent human ambush, leaving behind their only son now hers to claim.

It was also unfortunate that there needed to be arrangements for an old court ally to purr promises of wealth and power to a greedy mage privileged enough to serve as a confidant to the human royals, in exchange for a very simple task indeed. A fae curse of sleeping death, a painless end (and far more than they deserved) that would eradicate the royal family and incite the people into a frenzy that somehow they had been betrayed. It had only been too easy for her esteemed General to overpower the now leaderless kingdom, satisfied with the reports of the royal family's elimination.

Yet, those reports hadn't been accurate.

She knows that now, staring at the silver-haired child clinging to Vanrouge's leg, auroral eyes so much like that of his mother. The sleeping curse had somehow failed on the child, and fickle, gleeful fate had delivered him straight into the arms of the very fae who had led the assault to decimate what would have been his own kingdom.

But this child in complete ignorance of his inheritance, this little, precious, gleaming tool yet to be molded— Silver, was it?

Vanrouge had always been so quaint with his names.

Perhaps all was not yet lost. She had seen the way those opalescent eyes stare with utter adoration at Vanrouge, and watch Malleus perform his magic with wonder and awe. There was promise there, formation of vulnerable bonds that could set the course of the next century in motion.

The human would die for her grandson.

She'd ensure it.

Wow, Sebek is a little dick (I say lovingly), but housewife Silver??? I think you’re onto something here… :)