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#through the fire and flames is out of the question but maybe lilia could nail it death metal style
r-aindr0p · 3 months
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Probably how the song cover yuu au would start, it branches from this headcanon post nothing too interesting as he mostly does it while alone but I figured I'll draw a little introduction in case I do random doodles of this little au.
Basically, he tries and sings >regrets it >posts the song >regrets it again >it gets shared >oh no >oh please no no no >ah fuck it, might as well film a clip for a cover at some point >not showing his real self tho
He labeled the songs as lost media as an excuse but he's not wrong and not right either, somehow... Since the songs are not from twisted wonderland they were never lost, but rather never existed but he can't tell this so yeah.
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curekibouka-writing · 4 years
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Sleep Tight, My Dears (twst one-shot fanfiction)
Summary: The long centuries of conflicts had etched hundreds upon hundreds of bloodshed in his eyes, yet never once had Lilia trembled this much.
Warning: major character death
Genre(s): Tragedy, family
Word count: 1120
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Why?
What went wrong? How did it go wrong? Why... this was not supposed to happen.
The long centuries of conflicts had etched hundreds upon hundreds of bloodshed in his eyes, yet never once had Lilia trembled this much.
There laid a dragon, blood oozing out beneath an enchanted sword that pierced through its skin and impaled its heart.
And squashed under its talons was a young knight whose aurora coloured eyes were still misty with tears.
With one last deafening screech, the dragon exhausted all its power. A burst of green flames enveloped its gargantuan body, leaving behind ashes in the form of the once elegant and dignified Prince of Thorns himself.
This was not supposed to happen— Then what was? Lilia inwardly jeered. Did he really expect a battle of destiny to leave them unscathed? Did he truly believe he could rewrite this twisted tale into a happily-ever-after?
Maybe he did, because he tried, and failed royally. Expected.
But now he wished he had tried harder. Now he wished he had been wiser. For he had never felt so... so helpless, as Malleus and Silver, his children, sprawled out in front of him, on the verge of death.
His stomach churned when they both looked to him, embers of life still persevering in their eyes, seeking wisdom, guidance, and assurance from him as if that would keep the light of life burning.
He had none to give.
They should not be gazing at him with such gentle eyes, for he was what made everything go so wrong. They should be condemning this poor, simple fool. A fool who made a wish that costed too much.
Oh but was it not at times like these that he must indulge them? Did he not owe at least this much to them? To the wonderful sons that he had always been so immensely proud of?
His eyes stung. His throat was tight. And his heart was this close to leaping into green flames, let it all burn down. But he smiled. Grinned maybe.
For them, he told himself.
“Fa... ther...” Silver coughed out, trying to sit up, but he couldn’t feel his torso at all. Shakily, he extended a hand instead.
“F... fa... ther...”
“Right here,” Lilia enfolded Silver’s hand in his smaller ones, kneeling down. He coated his words with layers of poise, to the best of his ability at least.
“It ap..pears... I have... failed you...” the young knight wheezed, a mess of guilt, sorrow and barely holding on. “Plea..se forgive...”
“You’ve done well, my boy. Your gallant stance wouldn’t have been inferior to any esteemed warriors of the past.” He placed Silver’s head on his lap — when was the last time his son slept on his lap?
“Lilia...”
He looked up at Malleus approaching, hunched over in pain, each step an ugly stagger, dripping with blood, dripping with fear.
“Lilia, answer me...”
Lips quivering, breaths rapid, a visage of fright smeared all over the Thorn Prince’s usual indifference.
“Did I... did I do this...?”
His emerald eyes darted around the seared surroundings, then returned to his retainers. His family. Silver.
“...I did this?”
Silver denied without a second to waste, “Malle...us-sama... no! It was... overblot... It is... I who must... apologi—”
“Lilia...! Tell me,” Malleus seemingly could not hear it, and urged Lilia to answer instead, “Please. Am I...”
When was the last time he allowed himself to put on such a graceless display?
“Am I a monster…?”
Lilia recalled, Malleus had asked this very same question the last time he’d been this frightened. So small had he been, unable to control the fire in his small body, nor the fire in his young heart.
“Come closer,” Lilia whispered gently, fatherly, gesturing for Malleus to lean on his shoulder.
“That’s right, scooch in,” he rested a hand on the side of Malleus’s head, the other caressing Silver’s forehead. A promising smile still plastered over his features.
They sought assurance, so assurance he shall offer.
“You are not a failure. And you are not a monster.”
They sought guidance, so guidance he shall offer.
“Loathe not yourselves. You owe this cursed world nothing.”
They sought wisdom, and so the truth he shall impart.
“Loathe me instead,” he hissed, his words envenomed with detest, “I’m to blame.”
There was a lump in his throat, which he was trying to ignore. Now, of all times, he could not afford to show even a fleck of doubt.
Otherwise he might be convinced to forgive himself.
“I’m to blame for never truly understanding you, Malleus. Had I known to do more, say more than ‘Cease your sulking’, perhaps all this could have been prevented. Loathe me, for not fulfilling my role as your guardian, and your confidant.
“And I’m to blame for thrusting this fate onto you when you were but a toddler, Silver. Had I given you a choice, a different path, perhaps you could’ve been enveloped in flowers and light instead of thorns and blood. Loathe me, for being too weak to do it myself.”
Yes, blame him for this massive miscalculation. For forgetting that love blossoms in peace, making conflicts exponentially more heartbreaking than when there had only been hostility.
And yes, before today, he’d thought his aged heart could never be more broken.
But that was fine. May all the ache be his. So that the youths could sleep forever in peace and tranquillity. Free from cruel fate, free from needless hatred, free from any more conflicts.
He even deliberately left out the apology, so that they wouldn’t be obligated to forgive him
.
.
.
Damn the Great Seven for bestowing upon him these wonderful children.
“Lilia... Not even... when hell freezes over... shall I loathe you.”
“Fa...ther... Being your... son... has been an... ho..nour...”
With their hands over his — dedicating their final glimmers of warmth to him, they both asserted,
“Thank you.”
And then their fingers slipped. Fell. And Lilia didn’t bother to cling onto them.
Somewhere behind him, he could hear gasps and cries, and a particularly booming voice now reduced to something close to a whimper, “Young Lord! Silver...!”
Still it was too loud.
Lilia breathed — so soft, so weak, “Hush, Sebek; hush, all of you. We wouldn’t want to disturb their slumber, now would we?”
He was thankful there were no further disturbances.
“Sleep tight, my dears.”
Still smiling. Still poised. Still fatherly. Still strong.
Until he could no longer sense a single bit of warmth. He let go of them, digging his nails into his face,
and screamed.
The End
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